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Scanned  from  the  collections  of 
The  Library  of  Congress 


AUDIO-VISUAL  CONSERVATION 
at  Thr  LIBRARY  of  CONGRESS 


Packard  Campus 

for  Audio  Visual  Conservation 

www.loc.gov/avconservation 

Motion  Picture  and  Television  Reading  Room 
www.loc.gov/rr/mopic 

Recorded  Sound  Reference  Center 
www.loc.gov/rr/record 


Soggv 


Pnir-'ier's  Bind. 


COME  AND  VISIT 


AN  EXCLUSIVE  HOME  STORY  WITH  FULL  COLOR  PICTURES 


»OR*y,  OCHTlCMeN, 

THIS  CONTEST 

FOR 

WOMEN 

OHLYl 


In  honor  of  this  year's  June  Brides... Camay  offers 


iw  prizes t 

.■  .MM  . 


EVERY  WOMAN  CAN  ENTER... YOU  MAY  WIN! 

This  is  the  season  of  beauty  and  romance  and  brides! 
To  honor  the  June  Brides  of  1948,  Camay  is  running 
a  new  kind  of  contest  ...for  women  only!  And  this 
contest  is  really  five  contests— you  may  enter  every 
week  for  5  weeks.  Every  week,  Camay  will  award  a 
$1,000  bill.  And  there  are  2,630  prizes  in  all! 

So  easy  to  enter  —  here's  what  you  do! 

First,  try  Camay.  Your  first  cake  of  Camay  can  bring 
a  smoother,  clearer  skin— if  you  give  up  careless 
cleansing— stay  ort  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet,  de- 
scribed on  the  wrapper.  And  try  Bath-Size  Camay, 
too.  Daily  baths  with  Bath-Size  Camay  can  make  you 
lovelier  from  head  to  toes! 

Tips  that  may  help  to  make  you  a  winner! 

Discover  Camay's  advantages— and  enter  the  Contest. 

Finish  the  sentence  "I  like  Camay  because ," 

in  25  additional  words  or  less,  following  the  contest 
rules.  Write  about  Camay's  mildness— its  fragrance— 
any  quality  you  prefer.  You  may  win  $1,000! 


EVERY  WEEK  ££ 

First  Prize- *|,OO0  in  Cash 
25  Prizes- $IOO  Each  in  Cash 

AND 

500  MIRRO-MATIC 

PRESSURE  COOKERS 

(4-Quart  Size) 

2,630  WINNERS  IN  ALL! 


READ  THESE  EASY  RULES! 


THE  SOAP  OF  BEAUTIFUL  WOMEN 


1.  Complete  this  sentence,  "I  like 
Camay  because "in  25  addi- 
tional words  or  less.  Get  an  official 
entry  blank  from  your  dealer  or 
write  on  one  side  of  a  plain  sheet 
of  paper.  Print  plainly  your  name 
and  address. 

2.  Mail  to  Camay,  Dept.  PM,  Box 
357,  Cincinnati  1,  Ohio.  Enter  as 
often  as  you  wish,  but  be  sure  to 
enclose  the  wrappers  from  one  reg- 
ular-size and  one  bath-size  cake  of 
Camay,  or  three  regular-size  wrap- 
pers, or  facsimiles,  with  each  entry. 

3.  Any  female  resident  of  the  con- 
tinental United  States  and  Hawaii 
may  compete,  except  employees  of 
Procter  &  Gamble,  their  advertis- 
ing agencies  and  their  families. 
Contests  subject  to  all  Federal  and 
State  regulations. 

♦.  There  will  be  five  weekly  con- 
tests, each  with  an  identical  list  of 
prizes.  Opening  and  closing  dates— 

CONTEST         OPENS  CLOSES 

1st  contest         Now  Sat.,  Juno  12 

2nd  contest  Sun.,  June  13  Sat.,  June  19 

3rd  contest  Sun.,  June  20  Sat.,  June  26 

4th  contest  Sun.,  June  27  Sat.,  July   3 

5th  contest  Sun.,  July   4  Sat,  July  10 

5.  Entries  received  before  mid- 
night, Saturday,  June  12,  will  be 


entered  in  the  first  week's  contest. 
Thereafter,  entries  will  be  entered 
in  each  week's  contest  as  received. 
Entries  for  the  final  week's  contest 
must  be  postmarked  before  mid- 
night, July  10  and  received  by 
July  24,  1948. 

6.  Prizes  awarded  each  week  will 
be: 

1st  Prize— SI. 000.00  in  cash. 
25  Prizes  of  $100.00  each  In  cash. 
500  additional  prizes,  each  a  Mirro- 
Matic  Pressure  Cooker  (4-quart  size) 

7.  Entries  will  be  judged  for  orig- 
inality, sincerity,  and  aptness  of 
thought.  Judges'  decisions  will  be 
final.  Only  one  prize  will  be 
awarded  to  a  person.  In  case  of 
ties,  the  full  prize  tied  for  will  be 
awarded  to  each  tying  contestant. 
No  entries  will  be  returned.  En- 
tries,  contents,  and  ideas  therein 
become  the  property  of  Procter  & 
Gamble. 

8.  First  prize  winners  will  be  an- 
nounced on  Camay's  radio  pro- 
gram, "Pepper  Young's  Family," 
about  3  weeks  after  the  close  of 
each  weekly  contest.  All  winners 
will  be  notified  by  mail.  Prize  win- 
ner lists  will  be  available  approx- 
imately one  month  after  the  close 
of  the  last  contest. 


Thornton  cutie  Patti  Marcheret 
of  Flushing,  L.  I.,  has  a  smile  that 
takes  her  places.  C'mon  along! 


Going  around  in  circles  (the  nicest 
circles!)  is  pert  Patti  Marcheret— 
a  famous  name  model  at  18 !  Patti 
is  a  teen-queen  with  more  dates 
than  a  history  book.  Know  why? 
Because  the  same  bright  'n  beautiful 
Ipana  smile  that  makes  her  such 
a  terrific  fashion  model  has  a 
devastating  effect  on  every  lad  she 
meets.  Take  a  leaf  from  her  date-book 
—get  Ipana  today ! 


Music  has  charms  — but  even  a  Stardust  mel- 
ody can't  outshine  the  charm  of  Patti's  smile 
for  current  escort  Bill  Sommer!  Because  Patti 
knows  this :  firm,  healthy  gums  are  important  to 
sparkling  teeth,  a  radiant  smile.  So  she  never 
skips  her  Ipana  care ! 


iffltfkiZ^patfe 


Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


Limber-r-r-r!  Patti  believes 
in  ballet  routines  for 
keeping  her  figure  see- 
worthy.  And  she  follows 
this  "model"  dental  routine 
for  guarding  her  dazzling 
smile:  regular  brushing 
with  Ipana  Tooth  Paste, 
then  gentle  gum  massage. 


itn.  utrut  <|ig^$*>&"<£ 


/ 


H&3.. 


Dentists  recommend  Ipana  2  to  1 
over  any  other  tootli  paste.  And  9  out  of 
10  dentists  recommend  massage  regu- 
larly or  in  special  cases.  (Facts  from 
recent  national  survey.)  Ask  your  dentist 
about  massage— and  follow  his  advice. 
Helv  him  guard  your  smile  of  beauty! 


"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safelyP'  


LATER-Thanlcs  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Always  use 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
after  you  eat  and  before 
every  date 


JULY,  1948 


VOL.  30,  NO.  2 


J&WS0 


W T£££17S/6W 


KEYSTONE   EDITION 


PEOPLE  ON  THE  AIR 


Radio's  No.   One   Fan 29 

Come  and  Visit  Don  McNeill by  Helen  Bolstad  30 

Covering  the  Conventions '. by  Quincy  Howe  34 

Is  Lou  Costello  On  the  Level? by  William  Tusher  38 

Twenty  Questions by  Thea  Traum  40 

Holly  Sloan — In  Pictures 42 

My  Winning  Nights  with  Heidt by  Dick  Contino  48 

The  Made-for-each-other  Bride  and  Groom by  John  Nelson  50 

Perry  Mason — In  Pictures 56 

The  Wife  in  the  Life  of  Dennis  Day by  Robbin  Coons  58 

Traveler  of  the  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  60 


Radio  Mirror  Quiz by  Joe  Kelly  3 

Facing  the  Music by  Duke  Ellington  10 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  12 

Collector's  Corner by  Louis  Prima  13 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Information  Booth 20 

Tex  Beneke — Facing  the  Music 23 

Barbara  Whiting 27 

Truth   or   Consequences — In   Color 62 

Inside  Radio 70 

It's  Here! 73 


FOR .  BIT.TI 


Your  Children — and  Other  People's by  Terry  Burton  6 

Sun  Spots by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  8 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 16 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  46 

Green  Stuff \ by  Kate  Smith  64 


v:. 


WMCA:  Golden  Boy  Ted  Steele 4 

KDKA :    Pittsburgh   Newsman    18 

WIBG:     A  Day  With  Chuck  and  By 22 

WBEN:   All  Kinds  of  Music 24 

UBffiBM 

People  in  Television 52 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 54 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 


"Bless  This  Ring" — a  Rosemary  Novelette by  Helen  Christy  Harris    66 

ON  THE  COVER:  Don  McNeill  and  his  sons;  color  portrait  by  Vories  Fisher 


Editorial  Director 
FRED    R.    SAMMIS 

Managing  Editor 
EVELYN    L.   FIORE 


Editor 
DORIS    McFERRAN 

Associate  Editor 
MARJORIE    WALLACE 


Art  Director 
JACK   ZASORIN 

Associate   Art  Director 
FRANCES    MALY 


Television 
JOAN     MTJRPHY     LLOYD 


Research 
TERC    GOTO 


Hollywood  Office:  Editor,   ANN    DAGGETT  Managing    Editor,   McCCLLAH    ST.   JOHNS 
Staff  Photographers.HYMlE  FINK,  STERLING  SMITH;  Assistant,   BETTY    JO    RICE 


KADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACPADDEN  PUBLICATIONS  INC.,  New  York,  N.  V. 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Advertising  Offices,  200  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Hollywood— Beverly  Hills 
Office-  32  1  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills.  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President:  Harold  Wise,  .Senior  Viee  President; 
Herbert  Drake.  Vice  President;  Joseph  Srhultz,  Vlee  President:  S.  O.  Shapiro,  Vice  President;  Meyer  Dworkln.  Socre- 
tory  and  Treasurer;  Edward  P.  Lethcn.  Advertising  Director.  Chicago  Office:  221  North  La  Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gage, 
Mer.  San  Francisco  (mice:  1  (1 1  3  Runs  BulldlnE,  Joseph  M.  Dooher,  Mgr.  Los  Angeles  Office:  Suite  908,  649  South 
Olive  St.,  George  Wcnthcrhy,  Mgr.  Reentered  as  Second  Class  matter  March  I,  1948,  at  the  Post  Office  at 
New  York,  N.  Y.,  under  the  Ac!  of  March  3,  1879.  Subscription  rales:  U.  S.  and  Possessions.  Canada  ond  Newfound- 
land S2.0O  per  vear.  All  other  countries  $0.00  per  year.  Price  per  copy:  20c  In  the  United  States  and  Canada. 
While  Manuscripts,  Photographs  and  in  acini's  arc  submitted  at  the  owner's  risk,  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return 

those  found    unavull; ■    il    accompanied   bv  sufficient  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and  address.   Contributors 

are  esnec  ;    Iv  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions;   otherwise  they  are  taking  unnecessory  risk. 
The  contents  of  this  magazine  may   not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or   In   part  without  permission, 
me  lunviuui  »  .>         (Member   of    Marfadden    Women's    Croup)  .,._,„„ 

Convrlght.    1948,  bv  Macfadden  Publications,   Inc.   All    rights  reserved    under  International   Copyright  Convention.    All 
rivlfls   reserved   in  dcr   pan-American   Copyright  Convention.      Todos  dercchos   reservados  segun   La  Convention   Pan- 
"KriWrnTde  Propcdod  Llterarlo  y   ArtlstlcS.      Title  trademark  registered    >£«.   8.  Patent  Office. 
Printed   in  U1.   R.   A.  by  Art  Color  Printing  Co.,   Dunellen,   N.   J. 


RADIO  MIRROR  QUIZ 


Joe  Kelly,  this 

month's    Guest 

Quizmaster,  is 

M.C.  of  NBC's 

Quiz  Kids,  Sunday 

4:00  PM,  EDT. 


1.  This  screen  star 
is  radio's  newest 
comedy  hit.  Who 
is  she? 


2.  He's  Fred  Allen 
to  his  millions  of 
fans,  but  what  is 
his  real  name? 


3.  Charlie  Cantor, 
well-known  radio 
actor,  was  a  col- 
lege teacher. 
What  character 
is  he  on  what  fa- 
mous program? 


4.  What  singing  star  of  his  own  show 
was  taught  by  his  mother,  a  former 
concert  singer? 

5.  On  what  program  did  Eddie  Cantor 
and  Edgar  Bergen  get  their  start 
in  radio? 

MY  FAVORITE  QUIZ  QUESTIONS 

A.  Who   was   the   first   President   to   live   in 
the  White  House? 

B.  Who  invented  the  automobile? 


wa|Mi 


ANSWERS: 
'69Z.  I  u!  's!JDd  *°  +°"6rO  SDlOLP!N  '8 

pajiufi    941  jo   juapi'sejj-  puj    'suuDpy    ui^op   y 
•jno|_|  A-fsuD^  s^anD^  Apn^j   -g 

'ujbadj_  sAynQ   uo 
SSkoid    5,110.10111    D    0|   J3MSUD    3L|4-    i  'u o6au u i-j m    '£ 
-UDAj||ng  souajO|-j   uijop  '3 

•duij|  'puaiJj  Kyi  sd  *uos|;^  euo^j  '\ 


Everybody  loves 
SAN  FRANCISCO! 

Its  hills,  cable  cars,  bright  sunshine  and  fog,  bridges,  cosmo- 
politan atmosphere,  invigorating  all-year  climate,  people, 
life — there  is  so  much  to  like  about  San  Francisco.  Every- 
where are  breath-taking  views.  Beautiful  homes  cling  to 
the  hillsides.  Stately  buildings  reveal  its  civic  pride,  edu- 
cational and  cultural  achievements. 

Here  where  a  gay  and  fascinating  city  contributes  so 
much  to  the  pleasure  of  living,  and  visiting,  it  is  natural 
that  San  Franciscans  enjoy  the  fine  flavor  of — 

Beech-NuUGum 


It  has  the  flavor 
everyone  likes 


\Beech-Nut  BEECHIES 
\Com/y  Coated  Gum 
—  good,  too  — 


Ted .  Steele,   gentleman  farmer — the  role   that's   dearest  to  his  heart. 


Ted's  only  complaint:  a  day  is 
limited    to    twenty-four    hours! 


<mm>m 


^Jed  Steele 


e 


Band   leader,   platter    spinner,    and    more — Ted   has    a    deep, 
rich  baritone  which  he  accompanies  on  the  Hammond  organ. 


A  VERSATILE  young  man  is  WMCA's  Ted  Steele,  the 
disc  jockey  extraordinary,  whose  only  complaint 
with  life  is  the  archaic  custom  which  limits  a  day  to 
twenty-four  hours.  As  it  is,  the  "Golden  Boy"  of  the  air 
now  manages  to  be  one  of  the  busiest  men  in  radio  and  a 
highly  successful  gentleman  farmer  on  the  side  by 
double-timing  from  dawn  to  dusk. 

As  a  platter  spinner  on  the  New  York  Independent 
station,  the  one-time  NBC  page  boy  goes  on  the  air 
twice  daily  from  11  to  11:45  A.M.,  and  from  2  to  5  P.M. 
on  days  no  baseball  is  scheduled.  On  baseball  days  he 
precedes  the  baseball,  starting  2  P.M.  He  plays  the  latest 
records,  coaxes  sweet  music  from  the  Hammond  organ 
and  sings  in  a  deep,  rich  baritone  when  he's  not  inter- 
viewing big  names  from  the  show  business  whirl. 

From  WMCA  Ted  hustles  each  night  to  the  famous 
Casino-on-the-Park  in  the  Essex  House  to  lead  his  re- 
organized band  which  is  attracting  recognition  as  one  of 
the  most  promising  of  the  new  musical  aggregations. 

But  it's  down  on  his  farm*  at  Doylestown,  Pa.,  in  the 
heart  of  celebrity-conscious  Bucks  County,  where 
Farmer  Ted  Steele  really  has  a  chance  to  work  at  a 
hobby  that  has  turned  out  to  be  almost  as  profitable  as 
his  entertainment  endeavors. 

The  thirty-year-old  showman  grew  up  on  a  dairy 
farm  in  Belmont,  Mass.  He  was  milking  cows  and  rais- 
ing rabbits  before  he  was  six.  At  the  age  of  thirteen 
he  won  a  scholarship  to  the  New  England  Conservatory 
of  Music  and  farming  was  temporarily  shelved  while  he 


pursued  his  musical  career. 

Success  came  fast  to  the  handsome  New  Englander 
and  just  before  World  War  II  he  purchased  a  modest 
farm  at  Pearl  River,  N.  Y.  .  .  .  He  raised  thousands  of 
white  mice,  guinea  pigs  and  rabbits  for  wartime  medical 
research  and  was  awarded  a  special  citation  by  the  War 
Department. 

The  next  step  was  a  modern,  150-acre  farm  at  Doyles- 
town. Here  Steele  raises  pure-bred  Guernsey  cattle 
which  have  brought  him  many  blue  ribbons  at  county 
and  state  fairs.  In  addition,  he  has  become  the  largest 
poultry  breeder  in  the  area. 

Steele  is  now  recognized  as  an  authority,  particularly 
on  modern  farming  methods.  Last  year  he  was  hired 
by  Westinghouse  as  a  special  farm  consultant.  He 
personally  answers  hundreds  of  letters  a  week  from 
farmers  throughout  the   country. 

Obviously,  Ted  couldn't  maintain  his  pace  of  pro- 
ductive activity  without  help.  And  the  head  of  the 
assistance  department  is  pretty  Doris  Steele,  his  wife. 
Mrs.  Steele,  a  former  agent,  manages  her  husband's 
business  affairs,  runs  the  farm  while  he's  away  and  still 
finds  time  to  raise  two  handsome  little  Steeles — Susan, 
six,  and  Sally,  age  five. 

There's  never  time  for  a  dull  moment  in  the  busy 
lives  of  this  unique  young  family.  Now  if  someone 
would  only  pass  a  bill  in  Congress  making  each  day 
forty-eight  hours  long,  the  Steeles  could  accomplish 
twice  as  much. 


Look,  Buttercup, 

your  trouble 
is  right  under  your  nose ! 


There's  a  new  man  in  her  life.  It's  her 
first  real  date  with  him  and  she's  been 
getting  ready  for  it  all  day  long.  He  is 
the  one-and-only  and  tonight  is,  in- 
deed, the  night  for  romance. 

Unfortunately  it  isn't  going  to  work 
out  that  way. 

Before  nine  o'clock  he'll  be  wonder- 
ing what  he  ever  saw  in  her  .  .  .  Cupid 
will  put  the  arrow  back  in  his  quiver  . . . 
and  she'll  cry  herself  to  sleep  wonder- 
ing whatever  happened  to  turn  his 
ardor  into  indifference. 


Nonsense!  Don't  waste  your  sympathy 
on  her!  She  doesn't  deserve  it.  No 
woman  does  who  blindly  takes  her 
breath  for  granted  .  .  .  even  for  one 
night.  After  all,  nothing  puts  you  in 
such  a  bad  light  as  halitosis  (unpleasant 
breath). 

Isn't  it  just  common  sense  and  good 
grooming  ro  always  rinse  the  mouth 
with  Listerine  Antiseptic  before  any 
date  where  you  wish  to  be  at  your  best? 
You  go  forth  with  a  wonderful  sense  of 


assurance  that  your  brearh  is  fresher, 
sweeter,  less  likely  to  offend. 

While  some  cases  of  halitosis  are  of 
systemic  origin,  most  cases,  say  some 
authorities,  are  due  to  the  bacterial 
fermentation  of  tiny  food  particles 
clinging  to  mouth  surfaces.  Listerine 
Antiseptic  halts  such  fermentation,  then 
overcomes  the  odors  fermentation 
causes.  Use  it  night  and  morning, 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company 
St.  Louis,  Missouri 


"Poor  thing!  Poor  thing!"  you  say.         Before    any    date     LISTERINE    ANTISEPTIC     for   oral     hygi 


NEW!  Have  you  tasted  the  zippy  MINT  flavor  of  today's  Listerine  TOOTH  PASTE  with  25%  more  Lusterfoam? 


rouB  Childben 


mm 

1^ 

/-J 

Commissioner  James  B.  Nolan,  of 
the  NYC  Police  Department,  had  ideas 
about  children  to  offer  the  radio 
audience  of  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton. 

- 

H  %1 

•*?-.'  ipl 

1 

> 

• 

h 

M       <  M         I    i 

«J 

^1 

**".■(<'■■  •'':''"■  Ifefthv                                                t'M^/ 

^W '*7fve& MeMm/ 


EVER  since  Commissioner  Nolan  of  the 
New  York  City  Police  Department 
visited  us  here  in  Dickston  I've  been 
doing  a  lot  of  thinking  about  some  of  the 
things  he  told  me.  I've  talked  it  over  with 
Stan,  too,  and  he  agrees  with  me  that  the 
Commissioner  had  some  extremely  stimu- 
lating things  to  say  about  the  duty  of 
women  toward  their  own  youngsters  and 
other   people's'. 

In  what  better  way  could  any  woman 
spend  her  free  time  than  in  constructive,  interesting 
work  that  is  of  real  benefit  to  the  community  in  which 
she  lives?  And  any  community,  regardless  of  size, 
Commissioner  Nolan  told  me,  can  have  a  really  active 
recreational  program  for  youngsters  which  would  be 
interesting  and  of  real  benefit  to  the  town.  The  way 
to  get  it  started?  Cooperation  between  the  women  of 
the  community  and  the  police  department,  patterned 
after  New  York  City's  Police  Athletic  League. 
(  "Through  ;  the  PAL,"  the  Commissioner  told  me, 
"New  York's  policemen  instill  in  youngsters  good 
character,  a  sense  of  responsibility,  and,  so  very  im- 
portant, a  friendly  attitude  between  the  boys  and 
girls  and  the  police  officers.  The  program  provides  an 
opportunity  for  youngsters  to  pursue  any  activity  in 
which   they're   interested." 

What  can  work  in  New  York  can  work  anywhere 


By 

TERRY 
BURTON 


else,  too.  In  fact  there  are  already  many 
police-sponsored  youth  programs,  all  over 
the  country,  giving  youngsters  a  chance  for 
some  real  fun  that  they'd  never  have  if 
such  programs  hadn't  been  brought  into 
being.  Of  course,  there  are  already  many 
agencies  and  organizations  that  seem  to 
have  aims  and  objectives  very  much  like 
the  PAL.  Commissioner  Nolan  explained 
that  the  policeman's,  as  well  as  the  whole 
town's  concern  should  be  the  youngster 
who  isn't  served  by  any  other  organization — the  one 
who  needs  help  most  of  all.  They  won't  be  hard  to 
find,  those  children — it's  up  to  us  to  find  them  and 
offer  them  the  opportunities  they  need.  Through  our 
own  efforts,  and  with  the  cooperation  of  neighbors 
and  friends,  combined  with  the  always-ready  service 
of  the  police  of  our  towns,  we  can  make  our  own 
community  a  better  place  for  growing  up. 

I'd  like  to  pass  along  to  you  what  Commissioner 
Nolan  said,  just  before  he  left  us.  In  answer  to  my 
thought  that  the  main  duty  of  a  Police  Department 
was  to  patrol  the  streets,  to  keep  law  and  order,  he 
said,  "The  prevention  of  crime,  Mrs.  Burton,  is  only 
one  of  the  responsibilities  of  the  police.  There's  a 
bigger  responsibility  involved — that  of  shaping  the 
future  of  our  young  citizens.  We  must  extend  to  every 
growing  boy  and  girl  a  helping  hand." 


Every  Wednesday  a  Family  Counselor  vi.it..  II..  Second  Mrs.  Burton  ,h.ard  Monday*  through  Fridays  at  2  P.  M.  EDT,  on  CBS)  to  discuss  a 
problem  of  interest  to  homemnkers.  On  this  paKe  eB<.n  montn  Terry  Burton  reports  on  one  of  these  discussions  to  readers  of  Radio  Mirror.  If 
you  have  n  problem  vou  would  like  to  hear  discussed.  w„n't  you  „nn(j  |,  n|ong  to  Terry  Burton,  in  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


In  Nation-wide  test...  New  Woodbury  Powder 

Preferred  on 
Every  Beauty  Count ! 

M/VS  4-  TO  foVER  ALL  LBAD/A/6  BRANDS  OF  POWPSR 


Rovers  s*m' 


The  Winner!  The  new  and  overwhelm- 
ing favorite  of  women  in  a  recent 
nation-wide  test  is  the  amazing  New 
Woodbury  Powder  I 
4  out  of  5  preferred  Woodbury  to  the 
powder  they  had  been  using! 

In  this  most  exacting  test  of  all— against 
a  woman's  own  favorite  face  powder— 
Woodbury  won  decisively.  Actually, 
Woodbury  won  over  17  leading  face 
powders!  And  women  preferred  New 
Woodbury  Powder  for  every  beautv 
quality! 

Today  see  the  exciting  difference  on 
your  skin . . .  the  astonishing  beauty 
that's  yours  in  New  Woodbury  Powder! 


TWICE  NEW  I 
New  Secret  Ingredient!  New  Woodbury 
Powder  contains  a  secret  ingredient 
that  gives  a  satin-smooth  finish  to  your 
skin.  It  gives  a  natural,  "unpowdered" 
look,  yet  covers  tiny  blemishes! 
New  Revolutionary  Process!  In  all  cos- 
metic histoiy  there  lias  never  been 
anything  like  Woodbury's  new  blend- 
ing machine.  It  whirls  color  into  pow- 
der and  powder  into  color  with  a  force 
so  violent  a  tornado  would  seem  tame 
in  comparison.  Result:  fineness  of  tex- 
ture that's  "incredible!". . .  richness  of 
shade  that's  "unbelievable!". . .  freedom 
from  streaking  that  "couldn't  be  true" 
before  New  Woodbury  Powder! 


^     6  exciH shades 


(TS  LUCE  STAZT/m  LIFE  ALL  OVER  AGAIN  WITH  AAL  UVCREO/SLY  LOVELIER,  COMPLEX/ON/ 


ut/n,  'wwuwt  we  a, 

twiel  £we  wwrubteti  eac/i 

tide,  to  btavt  yx)WH  toot/ 


MARY  JANE 
FULTOIV 


Lucille  Norman  is  beard  on 
NBC,  Sat.  10:30  P.M.,  PDT. 


BEING  a  fair-skinned,  blonde,  and  blue-eyed  girl, 
Lucille  Norman  has  always  had  to  be  careful  when 
in  the  sun.  In  fact,  like  all  sensitive-skinned  gals, 
she  never  could  stay  in  it  for  any  length  of  time  without 
suffering  a   painful   burn. 

However,  when  she  married  actor  Bruce  Kellogg 
(Lucille  stars  in  NBC's  Saturday  night  program,  The 
Music  Hour  from  Hollywood),  they  took  a  cute  little 
house  right  on  the  beach  at  Malibu,  California.  Bruce 
has  light  brown  hair,  dark  eyes,  and  a  skin  which  tans 
to  a  beautiful  bronze.  He  likes  to  spend  hours  in  the 
sun.  So  Lucille  decided  that,  to  be  a  match  for  her 
surfboard-riding  husband,  she  should  learn  how  to 
take   it,  too. 

She  tried  the  suntan  lotions  and  creams  which  Bruce 
and  their  friends  recommended.  Everyone,  she  dis- 
covered, has  a  favorite  kind.  Finally,  she  hit  on  one 
that  seemed  to  be  just  right  for  her. 

Before  going  to  the  beach,  she  applies  it  to  all  the 
exposed  parts  of  her  body.  Because  her  figure  is  shapely 
and  slender  enough  to  wear  a  brief  bathing  suit  be- 


RADIO   MIRROR  for  BETTER  LIVING 


comingly,  this  means  a  great  deal  of  Lucille!  Into  her 
beach  bag,  along  with  a  miniature  comb  and  brush, 
compact,  and  other  beach  necessities,  goes  her  anti- 
burn,  tan-inducing  remedy."  She  re-applies  it  fre- 
quently, to  keep  her  skin  well  lubricated. 

Although  the  picture  of  her  sitting  on  the  beach 
doesn't  show  her  wearing  sunglasses,  she  does.  She  has 
several  pairs  with  different-colored  frames  to  harmonize 
with  the  colors  of  various  outfits,  and  wears  them  to 
screen  her  eyes  from  the  sun's  strong  glare,  and  to  keep 
her  from  getting  squint-lines  and  crows'  feet  around 
the  corners  of  her  eyes. 

At  first  she  sunned  herself  three  minutes  a  day,  on 
each  side.  Gradually,  she  increased  the  time  each  day. 
Now,  over  a  period  of  months  she  has  become  used  to 
longer  exposure,  and  can  enjoy  the  sun  for  several  hours 
daily.  A  mistake  many  girls  make,  she  now  knows,  is 
trying  to  acquire  a  beautiful  tan  in  too  short  a  time. 

Obtain  one  slowly,  she  advises,  and  either  duck  into 
the  shade  often  or  cover  up  with  a  beach  robe.  Also, 
wear  a  wide-brimmed  beach  hat. 

A  healthy  look  is  better  than  a  burned-to-a-crisp  one. 
If  you  don't  get  to  a  beach  often  enough,  you  can  achieve 
an  even  fake  tan  with  the  aid  of  this  season's  lovely 
suntan  make-ups.  So  why  risk  too  much  sun  and  wind 
exposure?  "I  know  from  experience,"  says  Lucille,  "that 
a  sensitive-skinned  girl  is  in  for  trouble,  unless  she 
learns  how  to  get  along  with  Old  Sol." 


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Cary  Grant,  recent  guest  on  NBC  Music  Hall  (Thurs.,  9) 
heard  some  of  star  Al  Jolson's  best  off-mike  comments. 


Dick  Brown  and  Kay  Armen  sing  the  mys- 
tery songs  on  ABC's  new  Stop  the  Music! 


Through   Dr.   Wayland   Hand   of   UCLA, 
Jo  Stafford  establishes  a  Folklore  Prize. 


By 

DIKE  ELLINGTON 


10 


DON'T  be  too  surprised  if  Frank  Sinatra  blossoms  out  as 
a  full-fledged  movie  director.  You  see,  the  big  boys  over 
at  MGM  are  very  keenly  interested  in  a  soon-to-be- 
made  screen  test  of  singer  Beryl  Davis.  The  big  secret  is 
that  Frankie's  directing  the  test.  If  it  pans  out  successfully, 
Frank  will  receive  a  musical  film  for  his  first  official  assign- 
ment. 

*  *         * 

Now  that  the  CBS  Club  15  stint  for  Bob  Crosby  is  over 
until  the  coming  Fall,  Bob  will  debut  his  newly  organized 
band  at  the  Strand  Theater  in  New  York.  There'll  be  several 
of  the  old  "Bobcats"  in  the  new  group. 

*  *         * 

So  successful  were  Lena  Home's  recent  European  and 
Mexican  personal  appearance  tours  that  rumor  now  has  her 
making  preparations  for  another  overseas  trip  this  year.  This 
time,  Lena  will  probably  visit  the  Scandinavian  countries. 

*  4i  lit 

The  introduction  of  London  Records  to  the  American 
public  has  lost  England  some  of  her  best  musical  talent. 
Thus  far  Denny  Dennis,  pianist  George  Shearing,  guitarist 
Dave  Goldberg  and  drummer-vocalist  Jack  Parnell  have 
arrived  in  America  for  personal  appearance  tours,  while 
songstresses  Vera  Lynn  and  Anne  Shelton  are  also  sched- 
uled to  make  the  transatlantic  crossing.    And  that's  only 


Eddie    Duchin,    vacationing    at    Sun   Valley,    shared    his 
birthday  cake  with  Mrs.  Duchin  and  Tyrone  Power  (1.) . 


On  Duke  Ellington's  WMCA  show,  guest  Lena  Home  spoke 
happily  of  her  European  tour,  looked  forward  to  another. 


fair,  what  with  such  American  talent  as  Danny  Kaye,  Mae 
West,  Mickey  Rooney,  The  Ink  Spots,  Martha  Raye  and 
Lena  Home  having  invaded  England  recently. 

*  *         * 

On  Jean  Sablon's  recent  trip  to  England  he  was  signed  to 
make  an  unusual  soundtrack-only  recording  of  a  musical 
introduction  to  the  new  Gainsborough  film,  "Miranda."  The 
song  is  the  title  tune,  written  especially  for  the  motion 

picture. 

*  *         * 

Dinah  Shore  has  a  promise  from  Columbia  Records  that, 
just  as  soon  as  the  ban  on  discing  is  over,  she  will  be  allowed 
to  wax  "Melissa,"  written  in  honor  of  her  daughter  by  an 
Ohio  fan.  Those  who  have  heard  the  song  claim  it's  a  real 
"sleeper." 

*  *         * 

Ralph  "Muffit"  Moffat,  disc  jockey  on  Allied  Forces  Net- 
work in  Munich,  Germany,  writes  that  he  is  featuring 
Johnny  Long  records  on  his  "Music's  No  Mystery"  program. 
It's  a  show  primarily  aired  for  GIs  in  occupied  Europe,  but 
Moffat  has  a  large  audience  of  Europeans  who  appreciate 
good  American  popular  music. 

*  *         * 

By  this  time  most  of  the  Kenton  fans  will  know,  but  for 
the  few  who  haven't  heard,  there  have  been  some  important 


changes  in  the  group.  Shelly  Manne  has  turned  over  the 
drum  chair  to  Irving  Kluger  and  Conti  Condoli  is  on  one 
trumpet  in  place  of  Al  Porcino. 

*  *         * 

And,  speaking  of  the  Kenton  band,  those  who've  been 
wondering  what  happened  to  Kai  Winding,  who  was  Stan's 
trombone  star  for  a  long  time,  take  note  of  the  following 
fact.  Kai  and  be-bopper  Red  Rodney  have  a  little  group  of 
their  own  that's  doing  quite  well  for  itself  in  the  Midwest. 

*  *         * 

We  don't  want  to  believe  that  a  fan  could  do  something 
like  this  but —  A  recent  robbery  of  an  Atlantic  City  record 
shop  resulted  in  the  loss  of  all  the  proprietor's  cash  and  his 
complete  stock  of  Sarah  Vaughan  records!  So,  if  you  see 
police  hanging  around  Sarah's  next  concert  appearance 
you'll  know  whj'  they're  there. 

*  *         * 

Already  known  as  one  of  the  best  golfers  in  show  busi- 
ness, Sammy  Kaye  is  readying  himself  for  his  entry  into 
the  National  Amateur  Golf  Championship  Tournament  to 
be  held  early  in  September  at  the  Memphis  Country  Club, 
in  Memphis.  Tennessee.  And  readying  himself  is  no  easy 
job,  considering  that  he's  involved  in  making  one  of  those 
gruelling  trips  of  one  night  stands  with  his  band. 


11 


<g$w 


any  day  of 
the  month 

with 
Tampax 


BECAUSE  it's  "that  time  of  month" 
do  you  stay  out  of  the  water  pre- 
tending you  don't  care?  You  do  care  and 
others  are  likely  to  know  it.  So  why  not 
use  Tampax  and  take  your  swim?  Women 
everywhere  now  are  doing  just  that  .  .  . 
Tampax  is  modern  sanitary  protection 
worn  internally.  There  are  no  belts,  out- 
side pads  or  anything  else  that  can  show. 
In  bathing  suit  wet  or  dry,  you  are  safe 
from  the  most  watchful  eyes. 

Made  of  compressed  absorbent  cotton, 
Tampax  was  invented  by  a  doctor  for  this 
monthly  use. Individual  applicators  make 
insertion  easy  and  when  the  Tampax  is 
in  place  it  cannot  be  seen  or  felt.  It  is 
quick  to  change  and  easy  to  dispose  of. 
Also,  no  odor  can  form.  Do  you  wonder 
that  millions  of  women  are  now  using 
Tampax? 

Buy  Tampax  and  swim  to 
your  heart's  content.  At  drug 
stores  and  notion  counters 
Regular,  Super  and  Junior 
absorbencies.  Month's  supply  fits  into 
purse.  Or  get  the  economy  box  with 
4  months'  supply  (average).  Tampax 
Incorporated,   Palmer,  Mass. 


)w  using 

■ 


R 
M 

12 


Accepted  for  Advertising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 


c^Look  at  the 

RECORDS 


By    Joe    Martin 


Doris  Day's  Columbia  record,  reviewed  be- 
low, has  its  humorous  side — but  the  other 
side  balances  with  something  sentimental. 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

DORIS  DAY  (Columbia) — Doris  pairs  a  pseudo-hillbilly  tune,  "It's  A 
Quiet  Town,"  with  a  dreamy  ballad,  "It's  The  Sentimental  Thing  To  Do." 
The  first  side  includes  some  humorous  patter  and  fine  vocal  support  from 
the  Modernaires.  The  reverse  has  possibilities  as   a  popular  favorite. 

JULIA  LEE  (Capitol) — Julia  and  Her  Boyfriends  present  "Crazy  World" 
and  "That's  What  I  Like."  Instrumental  support  on  each  of  these  is  by  a 
group  of  fine  jazz  musicians.  Julia's  piano  and  voice  combination  is  tops. 
Oddly,  though,  saxist   Benny  Carter  plays  trombone  on   "Crazy  World." 

JOSEPH  FUCHS  (MGM)— The  brilliant  young  violinist  caresses  two  lovely 
selections,  supported  by  Macklin  Marrow's  string  group.  The  familiar  "inter- 
mezzo" may  be  your  favorite — we  prefer  the  haunting  "Lotus  Land." 

FRANKIE  LAINE  (Mercury)— The  highly  stylistic  Mr.  Laine  is  particu- 
larly effective  with  "That  Ain't  Right" — strictly  12  bar  blues  and  well  done. 
Reverse,  "May  I  Never  Love  Again"  is  a  melody  of  some  merit. 

FREDDY  MARTIN  (RCA  Victor)— Who  cares  about  technical  musician- 
ship when  Freddy  Martin  pairs  "The  New  Look"  with  "Jungle  Rhumba?" 
The  lyric  on  the  former  is  inspired,  and  much  the  same  can  be  said  for 
Barclay  Allen's  piano  solo  on  the  latter. 

KATE  SMITH  (MGM)— The  perennial  Kate  offers  "Long  After  Tonight" 
and  "The  Miracle  Of  The  Bells."  We  much  prefer  the  first  side  for  its 
beautiful  melody  and  restrained  vocal.  Smith  fans  will  undoubtedly  welcome 
either  one. 

HADDA  BROOKS  (Modern) — Another  gal  who  is  equally  effective  with 
a  vocal  or  piano  solo  is  Hadda  Brooks.  Her  version  of  "Honey,  Honey,  Honey" 
is  as  sensuous  a  disc  as  we've  ever  heard.  It's  barrelhouse  piano  on  "Holly- 
wood House  Party  Boogie." 

ANNE  SHELTON  (London) — She  of  the  husky  voice  is  at  her  very  best 
with  "Oh  My  Darling."  We'll  take  it  for  the  best  she's  ever  done.  Most 
will  probably  prefer  "Love  Of  My  Life."  But  even  Cole  Porter  can  be  wrong 
sometimes. 

JIMMY  DURANTE  (MGM)— The  label  says  Jimmy  sings.  Call  it  what 
you  will,  it's  Durante.  That  should  be  enough  to  tell  you  that  "The  Day 
I  Read  A  Book"  and  "Chidabee-Ch-Ch"  are  happy,  hokum,  hoarse,  hysterical 
and  humdingers. 

THE  HARMONAIRES  (Majestic)— A  vocal  group  that  sings  with  taste, 
vigor  and  vitality.  David  Newlin  handles  the  solo  part  on  "I'll  Get  Along 
Somehow,"    while    the    group    presents    "Runnin'    Wild"    as    a    choral    classic. 

EDDY  HOWARD  (Majestic)— "Encore,  Cherie"  is  the  tune  that's  been 
recorded  by  many  a  top  artist.  Eddy  and  his  trio  sparkle,  however,  on  "Just 
Because."    That's    the    side    that's    based    on    a    hillbilly    hit    of    a    while    ago. 

ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

INSIDE  U.  S.  A.  (Columbia)— Buddy  Clark  and  Pearl  Bailey  shine  bril- 
liantly in  this  three-record  set.  Pearl  sings  "Blue  Grass"  and  "Protect  Me" 
in  her  inimitable  fashion.  Buddy  and  the  Mitchell  Ayres  Orchestra  combine 
to  offer  "My  Gal  Is  Mine  Once  More,"  "Rhode  Island  Is  Famous  For  You," 
"First  Prize  At  The  Fair"  and  "Haunted  Heart." 

RUMBA  DE  CUBA  (Capitol  I— It's  Chuy  Reyes  and  his  Hollywood 
Mocamho  Orchestra  who  play  this  group  of  eight  tangy  and  piquant  Cuban 
rumbas.  Close  your  eyes  and  you'll  imagine  yourself  in  the  famous  Mocambo 
or  the  Nalionale  in  Havana — take  your  pick.  "Blen!  Blen !  Blen!"  and  "Negra 
Leono"  are  our  favorites. 


FACING  the  MUSIC 


L^oltector  5   L< 


orner 


By  LOUIS  PRIMA 


Very  much  as  expected,  this  month's 
guest  collector,  Louis  Prima,  selected 
novelty  songs  as  his  topic.  Louis'  series 
of  novelties  recorded  with  his  band  for 
RCA-Victor  would  in  themselves  make 
a  good  basis  for  a  collection. 

The  close  race  for  popularity  be- 
tween ballads  and  novelties  continues 
neck  and  neck.  It  would  be  interesting 
to  know  what  exact  percentage  of  fans 
gets  the  bigger  kick  out  of  such  lush 
tunes  as  "Love  Of  My  Life"  or  the 
sentimental  "You  Were  Meant  For 
Me,"  as  contrasted  with  the  zany, 
screwball  appeal  of  "Three  Little 
Fishies,"  "The  Music  Goes  Round  and 
Round"  or  my  own  recent  "Oh,  Flor- 
ence." It's  a  toss-up,  I'm  sure.  The 
current  crop  of  wacky  ditties,  however, 
bears  out  my  contention  that  as  long 
as  we  keep  our  sense  of  humor,  these 
inspired  bits  of  zany  za-zu-zaz  will 
keep  up  the  spinning.  I'd  just  as  soon 
start  collecting  with  some  of  the  more 
recent  daffy  discs. 

The  irrepressible  Spike  Jones  demon- 
strates a  frantic  and  imaginative  tech- 
nique in  his  riotous  effect  for  RCA- 
Victor  with  "Down  In  Jungle  Town,v" 
a  corn  treatment  in  the  style  of  "way 
back  when."  The  modern  touch,  how- 
ever, includes  a  miniature  "darkest 
Africa"  travelogue  with  a  "Peg  O'  My 
Heart"  interpolation.  But  then  maybe 
you'll  prefer  the  coupling.  "Ugga  Ugga 
Boo  Ugga  Boo  Boo  Ugga." 

You  were  no  doubt  as  surprised  as  I 
was  with  Ray  Noble's  droll  rendition 
of  "Suspicion,"  on  Columbia,  a  fast 
patter-type  of  song  sung  by  the  maestro 
himself  with  an  anglicized  Phil  Harris 
style  of  expression.  Ray  tells  in  a 
veddy,  veddy  British  manner  about  a 
husband's  confusion  in  figuring  out  his 
wife's   behavior. 

There's  a  place  in  my  heart  for  that 
great  hit,  "Mahana,"  which  I  believe 
will  be  one  of  the  lasting  novelties. 
The  ingratiating  manner  in  which 
Peggy  Lee  lets  loose  with  the  lyrics 
really  knocks  me  out.  Her  cute  ac- 
cented characterization  is  tops. 

Dorothy  Shay  is  a  gal  with  a  way 
with  a  ditty,  and  her  "Sample  Song" 
is  a  prime  example  of  her  talent  for 
a  provocative  phrase.  The  lyrics  would 
call  for  lyrical  praise  from  any  record- 
ing artist. 

•If  you're  fond  of  these  goofy  tunes, 
then  latch  on  to  the  ones  lately  made 
by  the  Prima  band,  "Tutti  Tutti  Piz- 
zicato" and  "The  Bee  Song."  We're 
kind  of  proud  of  that  disc.  If  you  have 
as  much  fun  listening  as  we  did  wax- 
ing,   you'll    make    both    of    us    happy. 


10' 

New  patented  grip  •Holds  144%  better! 


holds 

your  hair  in  place 

144%  better 


Here's  the  first  real  improvement  in  bobby  pins! 
A  radically  new  patented  shape,  scientifically  designed  to 
hold  better.  Stronger,  yet  flexible,  easy  to  open.  Yes,  certified, 
unbiased  tests  prove  that  Supergrip  holds  144%  better! 


6cm§£cC 


"GAYLA"  MEANS  THE  BEST  IN  BOBBY  PINS,  HAIR  PINS,  CURLERS 


COPYRIGHT  1948,  GAYLORO  PRODUCTS,  INCORPORATED,  CHICACO  16,  ILLINOIS 


•T.  M.  REG.  U.S.  PAT.  OFF. 


13 


Dinah    Shore,    chosen    as   favorite    girl 
vocalist,    shows   her    scroll    to   Johnny. 


Radio  Mirror  editor  Doris  McFerran  pays  a  visit 
to  Sports  Newsreel  to  present  Bill  Stern,  chosen 
favorite  sports  announcer,  with  his  Award  scroll. 


Three  top  favorites  get  together:  Don  Wilson,  best 
announcer;  Jack  Benny,  favorite  comedian,  and  Ralph 
Edwards,  M.C  of  Truth  or  Consequences,  best  quiz. 


On  these  two  page's  ure  pictures  made  during 
the  presentation  of  scrolls  to  the  winners  of 
the  first  annual  Radio  Mirror  Awards  poll. 


My  Friend  Irma,  best  new  program :  Marie  Wilson — 
Irma — Mac  St.  Johns,  Radio  Mirror's  Hollywood 
managing    editor,   with    Cathy    Lewis,    Cy    Howard. 


A  SPECIAL  network  is  being  established 
within  the  city  of  Philadelphia  by  the 
Mutual  Broadcasting  System  for  its 
coverage  of  the  Republican  and  Democratic 
conventions  in  that  city  during  June  and 
July.  Lines  are  being  installed  within  Phila- 
delphia tying  together  the  six  hotels  where 
the  delegates  and  candidates  will  be  housed, 
Convention  Hall,  Mutual  affiliate  WIP,  po- 
litical headquarters  and  Mutual's  own  con- 
trol point  in  one  of  the  most  comprehensive 
political  coverage  plans  ever  made  by  any 
network.  With  these  arrangements  the 
entire  city  will  be  linked  to  Mutual's  special 
master  control  unit. 

*         *         * 
The    G.O.P.    national    convention    will   be 
meeting  some  stiff  radio-video  competition. 


The    Louis-Walcott    fight    is    scheduled    for 
June  23rd,  the  third  day  of  the  convention. 

Raised  eyebrows  department  .  .  .  We  have 
a  little  item  here  which  states  that  a  recent 
visitor  to  the  African  Congo  reports  that  once 
fierce  African  tribes  have  abandoned  their 
tom-toms  and  are  going  in  for  record  col- 
lecting. Guess  whose  are  most  popular,  yet — 
Guy  Lombardo's! 

*         *         * 

Whenever  you  feel  a  bit  hopeless  about  the 
future — think  of  this.  We're  probably  leaving 
it  in  pretty  good  hands,  judging  by  results  on 
MBS's  Keep  Up  With  The  Kids  program. 
To  date,  the  kids  have  scored  some  380  points 
ahead  of  their  celebrity  parents.  Stage, 
screen  and  radio  stars  appearing  on  the  pro- 


14 


Vote  for  best  comedy  program  went  to 
Red  Skelton- — a  proud  and  happy  fellow  I 


Bill  Bivens,  Jane  Wilson  accept  best  orehestra 
leader  award  from  Fred  Sammis,  Radio  Mirror's 
supervising  editor,  for  vacationing  Fred  Waring, 


Radio  Mirror's  Mac  St.  Johns  presented  the  award 
to  Joan  Davis,  and  announcer  Ben  Gage  offered  con- 
gratulations   to    the    listeners'    favorite    comedienne. 


Ann  Daggett,  Hollywood  editor  of  Radio  Mirror, 
finds  a  moment  to  chat  with  Bing  Crosby,  winner- 
and-still-ehamp    listeners'    favorite    male    singer. 


B¥  DALE  BANKS 


gram  with  their  offspring*  have  had  their 
confidence  shaken  and  their  IQs  shattered. 
For  example,  actor  Jimmie  Gleason's  grand- 
son walloped  him  70  to  30  during  a  broad- 
cast. Penny  Singleton's  daughter  white- 
washed mamma  to  the  tune  of  50  to  nothing. 
Walter  O'Keefe's  son  scored  110  to  40  over 
his  father,  while  Lee  Bowman's  daughter 
showed  him  up  by  a  140  to  10  victory.  A 
couple  of  mothers  have  come  out  ahead — 
Butch  Jenkins'  mamma  made  it  90-60  and 
Quiz  Kid,  or  rather  ex-Quiz  Kid,  Harve 
Fishman's  mother  won  60-40. 
*         *         * 

Ralph  Edwards  plans  to  run  about  half  a 
dozen  Truth  or  Consequences  contests  an- 
nually.  All  will  have  a  charity  angle.    "The 


Walking  Man"  stunt  was  the  most  successful 
of  his  ideas  in  terms  of  mail  pulling,  money 
received  and  prizes  awarded.  Edwards 
turned  some  1,500,000  dollars  over  to  the 
American  Heart  Fund. 

*         *         * 

Delayed  broadcast  recordings  of  shows  to 
be  played  back  to  affiliated  stations  at  the 
same  hour  in  each  community,  regardless  of 
differences  due  to  daylight  saving  time,  will 
be  used  by  the  ABC  network  through  Scotch 
sound  recording  tape.  The  network  has  pur- 
chased the  greatest  amount  of  magnetic 
recording  tape  so  far  sold  to  one  purchaser — 
2,500,000  feet.  The  tape  is  said  to  be  a  vast 
improvement  over  all  other  methods  of 
recording.  (Continued  on  page  25) 


15 


lfm  Coast  to  Coast 


Radio  Mirror  editor  Doris  McFerran  pays  a  visit 
to  Sports  Newsreel  to  present  Bill  Stern,  chosen 
favorite  sports  announcer,  with  his  Award  scroll. 


Bill  Bivens,  Jane  Wilson  accept  best  orchestra 
leader  award  from  Fred  Samnris.  Badio  Mirror's 
supervising  editor,  for  vacationing  Fred  Waring. 


rhree  top  favorites  get  together:  Don  Wilson,  best 
announcer;  Jink  Benny,  favorite  romedian,  and  Balph 
Edwards,   M.C   of  Truth   or   Consequences,  best   qniz. 


On  thcuc  l«n  |iuk*»  »'rr  pictures  made  during 
•  he  presentation  of  srrolls  lo  I  lie  winners  of 
Che  first  annual  Kmlio  Mirror  Award*  pull. 


My  Friend  Irraa,  best  new  program:  Marie  Wilson — 
Iriiw — Mac  St.  Johns,  Radio  Mirror's  Hollywood 
managing    editor,    with    Cathy    Lewis,    Cy    Howard. 


A  SPECIAL   network   is   being   established 
within   the  city   of  Philadelphia  by  the 
Mutual     Broadcasting     System    for     its 
coverage  of  the  Republican  and  Democratic 
conventions   in  that  city  during  June  and 
July.  Lines  are  being  installed  within  Phila- 
delphia tying  together  the  six  hotels  where 
the  delegates  and  candidates  will  be  housed, 
Convention  Hall,  Mutual  affiliate  WIP,  po- 
litical  headquarters  and  Mutual's  own  con- 
trol point  in  one  of  the  most  comprehensive 
politic^  coverage  plans  ever  made  by  any 
letwork.     With     these     arrangements     the 
attire  city  wV\i  be  linked  to  Mutual's  special 
er  control  unit, 

The   G.O.P.    nation^  contention   will   be 
.eeting  some  stiff  tadiQ^-ide0  competition. 


The    Louis-Walcott    fight    is    scheduled    for 
June  23rd,  the  third  day  of  the  convention. 

Raised  eyebrows  department  .  .  .  We  have 
a  little  item  here  which  states  that  a  recent 
visitor  to  the  African  Congo  reports  that  once 
fierce  African  tribes  have  abandoned  their 
tom-toms  and  are  going  in  for  record  col- 
lecting. Guess  whose  are  most  popular,  yet-— 
Guy  Lombardo's! 

Whenever  you  feel  a  bit  hopeless  about  the 
future — think  of  this.  We're  probably  leaving 
it  in  pretty  good  hands,  judging  by  results  on 
MBS's  Keep  Up  With  The  Kids  program. 
To  date,  the  kids  have  scored  some  380  points 
ahead  of  their  celebrity  parents.  Stage, 
screen  and  radio  stars  appearing  on  the  pro- 


Radio  Mirror's  Mac  St.  Johi 
lo  Joan  Davis,  and  announcer 
gratuhttions    to    the    listeners 


nted    the    award 
age   offered   can- 

te    comedienne. 


Ann  Daggett,  Hollywood  editor  of  Radio  Mirror, 
finds  a  moment  to  chat  with  Bing  Crosby,  v.  inner- 
find-etill-champ    listeners'    favorite    male    sin«er. 


gram  with  their  offspring  have  had  their 
confidence  shaken  and  their  IQs  shattered. 
For  example,  actor  Jimmie  Gleason's  grand- 
son walloped  him  70  to  30  during  a  broad- 
cast. Penny  Singleton's  daughter  white- 
washed mamma  to  the  tune  of  50  to  nothing. 
Walter  O'Keefe's  son  scored  110  to  40  over 
his  father,  while  Lee  Bowman's  daughter 
showed  him  up  by  a  140  to  10  victory.  A 
couple  of  mothers  have  come  out  ahead — 
Butch  Jenkins'  mamma  made  it  90-60  and 
Quiz  Kid,  or  rather  ex-Quiz  Kid,  Harve 
Fishman's  mother  won  60-40. 

Ralph  Edwards  plans  to  run  about  half  a 
dozen  Truth  or  Consequences  contests  an- 
nually.   All  will  have  a  charity  angle.    "The 


BY  DUE  BANKS 


Walking  Man"  stunt  was  the  most  successful 
of  his  ideas  in  terms  of  mail  pulling,  money 
received  and  prizes  awarded.  Edwards 
turned  some  1,500,000  dollars  over  to  the 
American  Heart  Fund. 


Delayed  broadcast  recordings  of  shows  to 
be  played  back  to  affiliated  stations  at  the 
same  hour  in  each  community,  regardless  of 
differences  due  to  daylight  saving  time,  will 
be  used  by  the  ABC  network  through  Scotch 
sound  recording  tape.  The  network  has  pur- 
chased the  greatest  amount  of  magnetic 
recording  tape  so  far  sold  to  one  purchaser — 
2,500,000  feet.  The  tape  is  said  to  be  a  vast 
improvement  over  all  other  methods  of 
recording.  (Continued  on  page  25) 


Put  life  into  your  hair 
with  shampoo  containing 

Emulsified 
Lanolin 


16 


A  completely  new  kind  of  cream 
shampoo!  Its  emulsified  lano- 
lin overcomes  dryness  .  .  . 
leaves  hair  soft  .  .  .  radiantly 
glowing  .  .  .  magically  obedient 
to  your  touch.  That's  why 
professional  beauticians  use  this 
shampoo  most.  Even  in  hard 
water,  billows  instantly  into 
fleecy  lather.  Deep-down 
cleansing  action  removes  dan- 
druff. Not  a  soap — leaves  no 
film;  needs  no  after  rinse. 
Helene  Curtis — most  famous 
name  in  hair  beauty — means 
quality.  Ask  any  beautician! 

twice  as  much  for  your  money 
five  full  ounces  60c 

full  pound  $J50 

family  size       JL. 

Meime&tnfa 

creme  shampoo 


Favorite  of 
Beauticians 

f>   Guaranteed  by   w 
i  Good  Housekeeping  j 


AT  YOUR  BEAUTY  SHOP, 

DRUG  AND  DEPARTMENT  STORES 


/C6W& 


THERE'S  SOMETHING  TO  OFFER 
Radio  Mirror's  Best  Letter  of  the  Month 

Dear  Papa  David: 

All  my  life,  up  till  the  past  year,  I've 
taken  for  granted  my  lack  of  looks  and 
lack  of  any  particular  talent  or  ability. 
After  high  school  I  took  a  job  in  one  of 
the  local  offices  and  have  been  there 
these  fifteen  years.  I've  never  married 
and  while  I  did  participate  in  church 
gatherings  and  small  social  events 
sponsored  by  our  community,  I  was  al- 
ways part  of  the  crowd. 

After  work  one  day  last  year,  I 
dropped  into  the  corner  grocery  to  buy 
the  week's  supplies.  "I  wish,"  I  told 
the  grocer,  "food  wasn't  so  expensive. 
It  cuts  such  a  hole  into  my  budget." 
The  grocer  looked  at  me  and  said,  "I 
wish  I  could  speak  English  so  good  as 
you." 

I  thought  about  the  grocer  all 
through  the  next  day  and  after  work  I 
returned  to  the  store.  I  was  a  little 
embarrassed  as  I  said  it,  but  I  did  man- 
age to  ask  the  grocer  if  he  would  like 
me  to  give  him  English  lessons.  His 
face  lit  up  like  a  Christmas  tree. 

And  so  started  my  giving  lessons  in 
English  to  the  grocer.  After  he  had 
taken  a  few  lessons,  he  asked  if  he 
might  bring  his  wife.  "I  only,"  he  ex- 
plained, "have  to  teach  her  when  I  go 
home.  She's  so  eager  to  learn,  so  the 
children  won't  laugh  at  her." 

Anna,  the  wife,  was  just  as  eager  a 
pupil  as  her  husband  and  soon,  she 
asked  if  she  could  bring  the  butcher's 
wife  whose  store  was  next  to  theirs.  I 
agreed.  This  practice  of  spreading  the 
class  to  include  all  the  foreign  born 
wishing  to  attend,  continued.  Soon  I 
had  about  fifteen  pupils. 


Word  got  around  that  I  was  doing 
this,  and  I  found  people  going  out  of 
their  way  to  speak  to  me  who  never 
noticed  me  before.  Also,  I  worked  bet- 
ter as  an  employee  with  this  new  in- 
terest. My  boss  called  me  in  one  day, 
to  tell  me  how  proud  .  he  Was  of  my 
homeschool  teaching  and  to  ask  if  I  had 
any  suggestions  about  starting  a  public 
speaking  class  for  the  office. 

And  one  day,  as  I  was  hurriedly  leav- 
ing the  office  to  prepare  for  my  night 
class,  I  overheard  some  of  the  office 
workers,  men  and  women  discussing 
me.  "There,"  said  our  most  promising 
salesman,  "goes  that  nice  schoolteacher. 
Isn't  she  attractive!" 

I  felt  attractive  all  the  way  home.  I'm 
not  really,  but  life  is  opening  up  such 
new  vistas,  since  I  got  outside  myself 
and  tried  to  help  others. 

And  while  I've  not  been  transformed 
from  an  ugly  duckling  into  a  swan,  I 
have  changed  so  much  for  the  better! 

I  hope  I  have  made  my  point  clear. 
That  no  matter  how  little  we  may  think 
we  have  to  offer,  in  offering  it  we  may 
find  it  means  a  great  deal  to  others. 

B.  K. 

Following  are  this  month's  ten-dollar 
letters : 

WHAT  COLOR  IS  HUMANITY? 

Dear  Papa  David: 

One  night,  a  few  years  ago,  my  sister 
and  I  walked  down  to  the  corner  ice 
cream  parlor  for  a  malt.  All  was  not 
right  with  our  worlds,  since  both  our 
husbands  were  off  fighting  a  war.  A 
war  to  free  the  enslaved  peoples  of  the 
world.  A  war  to  free  the  world  of  hate 
and  racial  prejudice.  I  was  thinking  of 
this    very    thing    when    we    noticed    a 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50  EACH  MONTH  FOR  YOUR  LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a  key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-for- 
gotten friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant  incident,  which  suddenly  illumi- 
nated the  whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring  such  a  memory,  won't  you 
write  to  Papa  David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers  best  each  month,  Radio 
Mirror  will  pay  fifty  dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have  room  enough  to 
print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters  can  be  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  let- 
ter to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York. 


white-haired  old  colored  man  a  little 
way  ahead  of  us.  On  either  side  of  him 
were  two  small  boys,  one  about  six,  the 
other  about  two.  As  we  watched  the 
grandfather  was  explaining  something 
to  the  older  of  the  two  boys  and  the 
little  one  lagged  behind.  A  few  steps 
brought  us  even  with  him.  We  parted 
a  little  and  he  looked  up  with  the  most 
beautifulsmile  in  the  world  on  his  dark 
little  face.  He  held  up  two  chubby 
brown  hands  and  my  sister  took  one,  I 
the  other.  We  had  walked  only  a  few 
steps  when  the  white  haired  old  gentle- 
man noticed  his  small  charge  was  not 
beside  him,  and  turned  to  see  where  he 
was.  When  he  saw  the  little  fellow's 
hands  in  ours,  he  stopped  and  called  to 
him  sharply.  The  little  boy  looked 
abashed.  He  didn't  know  what  he  had 
done  that  was  wrong,  but  he  ran  on 
ahead.  The  old  negro  scolded  him  un- 
mercifully, then  looked  at  us  apolo- 
getically before  he  walked  on. 

The  old  man,  in  his  wisdom  and  the 
experience  of  many  years,  knew  that 
that  little  boy — because  of  his  skin  be- 
ing dark  would  suffer  many  hurts  and 
indignities  from  such  as  us.  If  he  could 
teach  him  now  to  avoid  white  men,  he 
could  save  him  at  least  a  part  of  the 
hurts  later.  He  was  trying  to  prepare 
him  for  what  he  would  meet  in  just  a 
few  short  years.  We  didn't  need  to  be 
told  what  was  in  the  old  man's  heart — 
we  could  read  it  in  his  eyes.  He  did  not 
distrust  the  kindness  we  had  shown, 
but  he  knew  the  little  fellow  wouldn't 
meet  much  of  it,  and  it  would  be  easier 
if  he  learned  not  to  expect  it. 

I  have  a  son  now — three  years  old. 
Like  all  mothers,  I  day  dream  about 
what  he'll  be  when  he  grows  up.  A 
doctor?  A  lawyer?  President,  maybe? 
And  I  often  think  of  that  other  little 
boy.  Yes,  he  can  be  a  doctor  or  a  law- 
yer— if  he's  exceptionally  brilliant  and 
has  an  un Usual  amount  of  courage  and 
determination.  If  he's  an  ordinary  little 
boy,  or  if  he's  a  little  bit  shy,  about  the 
best  he  can  do  is  hope  to  be  a  porter, 
cook,  bellhop,  or  some  other  servile  job. 
My  son  can  be  almost  anything  he  wants 
to  be  or  has  the  ability  to  be,  even 
though  he  is  an  average  little  boy  and 
even  if  he  grows  up  to  be  an  average 
man,  for  this  is  America. 

The  little  negro's  dad  may  have  been 
fighting   for    (Continued   on   page    19) 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby 
and  Don  Becker,  is  heard  Monday  through 
Friday  on  NBC  stations  at  12  noon,  PDT; 
1    P.M.    MDT;    2    P.M.    CDT;    3   P.M.    EDT. 


<r"1 


/.  "Here's  how  I  manage  desk-to-dining 
dates,"  says  this  smart  career  girl.  "I  wear 
a  simple  black  linen  dress  to  the  office,  with 
the  smartest  of  tailored  jackets.  And,  of 
course,  rely  on  new  Odorono  cream  to  keep 
my  clothes  free  from  perspiration  stains 
and  odor."  One  dah  of  Odorono  in  the  A.M. 
keeps  you  dainty  a  full  24  hours. 

And  wait  till  you  see  how  creamy-smooth 
Odorono  stays  in  the  jar.  Never  gritty  (even 
if  you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks). 


2.  "When  date  time  comes,  I  remove 
the  jacket,  add  beads  and  crisp  white 
petticoat,  flowers  and  gloves — and  I'm 
set  for  a  romantic  evening.  I'm  confident 
of  my  charm  all  evening  too,  thanks  to 
new  Odorono  cream."  Because  the  Halgene 
in  Odorono  gives  more  effective  protection 
than  any  deodorant  known. 

Yet  stainless  Odorono  is  so  safe  and 
gentle — you  can  use  it  even  after  shaving. 
Try  Odorono  yourself — and  see. 


ilW  Oltfunva  Gagoa*  %^A\ 


17 


Put  life  into  your  hair 
with  shampoo  containing 

Emulsified 
Lanolin 


A  completely  neiv  kind  of  cream 
ihaiD] !  It3  EMULSIFIED  LANO- 
LIN overcomes  dryness  .  .  . 
leaves  hair  soft  .  .  .  radiantly 
glowing  . .  .  magically  obedient 
to  your  touch.  That's  why 
professional  beauticians  use  this 
shampoo  most.  Even  in  hard 
water,  billows  instantly  into 
fleecy  lather.  Deep-down 
cleansing  action  removes  dan- 
druff, Not  a  soap— leaves  no 
film ;  needs  no  after  rinse. 
Helene  Curtis— most  famous 
name  in  hair  beauty— means 
quality.  Ask  any  beautician! 

twice  tu  much  for  your  money 
five  full  ounces  60c 


full  pound  $150 
family  size       J. 

tveme  shampoo 


Favorite  of 
Beauticians 


■aa^f^y 


THERE'S  SOMETHING  TO  OFFER 
Radio  Mirror's  Best  Letter  of  the  Month 

Dear  Papa  David: 

All  my  life,  up  till  the  past  year,  I  ve 
taken  for  granted  my  lack  of  looks  and 
lack  of  any  particular  talent  or  ability. 
After  high  school  I  took  a  job  m  one  ot 
the  local  offices  and  have  been  there 
these  fifteen  years.  I've  never  married 
and  while  I  did  participate  in  church 
gatherings  and  small  social  events 
sponsored  by  our  community,  I  was  al- 
ways part  of  the  crowd. 

After  work  one  day  last  year,  I 
dropped  into  the  corner  grocery  to  buy 
the  week's  supplies.  "I  wish,"  I  told 
the  grocer,  "food  wasn't  so  expensive. 
It  cuts  such  a  hole  into  my  budget." 
The  grocer  looked  at  me  and  said,  "I 
wish  I  could  speak  English  so  good  as 
you." 

I  thought  about  the  grocer  all 
through  the  next  day  and  after  work  I 
returned  to  the  store.  I  was  a  little 
embarrassed  as  I  said  it,  but  I  did  man- 
age to  ask  the  grocer  if  he  would  like 
me  to  give  him  English  lessons.  His 
face  lit  up  like  a  Christmas  tree. 

And  so  started  my  giving  lessons  in 
English  to  the  grocer.  After  he  had 
taken  a  few  lessons,  he  asked  if  he 
might  bring  his  wife.  "I  only,"  he  ex- 
plained, "have  to  teach  her  when  I  go 
home.  She's  so  eager  to  learn,  so  the 
children  won't  laugh  at  her." 

Anna,  the  wife,  was  just  as  eager  a 
pupil  as  her  husband  and  soon,  she 
asked  if  she  could  bring  the  butcher's 
wife  whose  store  was  next  to  theirs.  I 
agreed.  This  practice  of  spreading  the 
class  to  include  all  the  foreign  born 
wishing  to  attend,  continued.  Soon  I 
had  about  fifteen  pupils. 


Word  got  around  that  I  was  doiner 
this,  and  I  found  people  going  out  of 
their  way  to  speak  to  me  who  never * 
noticed  me  before.    Also,  I  worked  bet- : 
ter  as  an  employee  with  this  new  in- ' 
terest.    My  boss  called  me  in  one  day 
to  tell  me  how  proud  he  was  of  my  I 
honieschool  teaching  and  to  ask  if  I  had', 
any  suggestions  about  starting  a  public?' 
speaking  class  for  the  office. 

And  one  day;  as  I  was  hurriedly  leav- 
ing the  office  to  prepare  for  my  night 
class,  I  overheard  some  of  the  office 
workers,  men  and  women  discussing 
me.  "There,"  said  our  most  promising' 
salesman,  "goes  that  nice  schoolteacher.  L 
Isn't  she  attractive!" 

I  felt  attractive  all  the  way  home.  I'm; 
not  really,  but  life  is  opening  up  such* 
new  vistas,  since  I  got  outside  myself  i" 
and  tried  to  help  others. 

And  while  I've  not  been  transformed  F 
from  an  ugly  duckling  into  a  swan,  It- 
have  changed  so  much  for  the  better!  r 

I  hope  I  have  made  my  point  clear. 

That  no  matter  how  little  we  may  think  £ 

we  have  to  offer,  in  offering  it  we  may  ■ 

find  it  means  a  great  deal  to  others,     t 

B.  K.    I 

Following  are  this  month's  ten-dollar  K 
tetters : 

WHAT  COLOR  IS  HUMANITY? 

Dear  Papa  David: 

One  night,  a  few  years  ago,  my  sister 
and  I  walked  down  to  the  corner  ice 
cream  parlor  for  a  malt.  All  was  not 
right  with  our  worlds,  since  both  our, 
husbands  were  off  fighting  a  war.  A I 
war  to  free  the  enslaved  peoples  ofttiej 
world.  A  war  to  free  the  world  of  hate  1 
and  racial  prejudice.  I  was  thinking  oij 
this    very    thing    when    we   noticed  a 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50  EACH  MONTH  FOR  YOUR  LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a  key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  haH-Jo* 
gotten  friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant  incident,  which  suddenly  illumi- 
nated the  whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring  such  a  memory,  won't  yon 
write  to  Papa  David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers  best  each  month,  Radio 
Mirror  will  pay  fifty  dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have  room  enough  lo 
print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters  can  he  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  let- 
ter to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York- 


white-haired  old  colored  man  a  little 
way  ahead- of  us.  On  either  side  of  him 
were  two  small  boys,  one  about  six,  the 
other  about  two.  As  we  watched  the 
grandfather  was  explaining  something 
to  the  older  of  the  two  boys  and  the 
little  one  lagged  behind.  A  few  steps 
brought  us  even  with  him.  We  parted 
a  little  and  he  looked  up  with  the  most 
beautiful  smile  in  the  world  on  his  dark 
little  face.  He  held  up  two  chubby 
brown  hands  and  my  sister  took  one,  I 
the  other.  We  had  walked  only  a  few 
steps  when  the  white  haired  old  gentle- 
man noticed  his  small  charge  was  not 
beside  him,  and  turned  to  see  where  he 
was.  When  he  saw  the  little  fellow's 
hands  in  ours,  he  stopped  and  called  to 
him  sharply.  The  little  boy  looked 
abashed.  He  didn't  know  what  he  had 
done  that  was  wrong,  but  he  ran  on 
ahead.  The  old  negro  scolded  him  un- 
mercifully, then  looked  at  us  apolo- 
getically before  he  walked  on. 

The  old  man,  in  his  wisdom  and  the 
experience  of  many  years,  knew  that 
that  little  boy — because  of  his  skin  be- 
ing dark  would  suffer  many  hurts  and 
indignities  from  such  as  us.  If  he  could 
teach  him  now  to  avoid  white  men,  he 
could  save  him  at  least  a  part  of  the 
hurts-  later.  He  was  trying  to  prepare 
him  for  what  he  would  meet  in  just  a 
few  short  years.  We  didn't  need  to  be 
told  what  was  in  the  old  man's  heart — 
we  could  read  it  in  his  eyes.  He  did  not 
distrust  the  kindness  we  had  shown, 
but  he  knew  the  little  fellow  wouldn't 
meet  much  of  it,  and  it  would  be  easier 
if  he  learned  not  to  expect  it. 

I  have  a  son  now — three  years  old. 
Like  all  mothers,  I  day  dream  about 
what  he'll  be  when  he  grows  up.  A 
doctor?  A  lawyer?  President,  maybe? 
And  I  often  think  of  that  other  little 
boy.  Yes,  he  can  be  a  doctor  or  a  law- 
yer— if  he's  exceptionally  brilliant  and 
has  an  unusual  amount  of  courage  and 
determination.  If  he's  an  ordinary  little 
boy,  or  if  he's  a  little  bit  shy,  about  the 
best  he  can  do  is  hope  to  be  a  porter, 
cook,  bellhop,  or  some  other  servile  job. 
My  son  can  be  almost  anything  he  wants 
to  be  or  has  the  ability  to  be,  even 
though  he  is  an  average  little  boy  and 
even  if  he  grows  up  to  be  an  average 
man,  for  this  is  America. 

The  little  negro's  dad  may  have  been 
fighting   for    (Continued   on   page    19) 


Ufe  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby 
and  Don  Becker,  is  beard  Monday  througb 
Friday  on  NBC  stations  at  12  noon,  PDT; 
1   P.M.   MDT;   2  P.M.  CDT;  3  P.M.    EOT. 


...  fM  %  o'QArA  *\a\"M  %oiw.v^a\ 


/.  "Here's  how  I  manage  desk-to-dining 
dates,"  says  this  smart  career  girl.  "I  wear 
a  simple  black  linen  dress  to  the  office,  with 
the  smartest  of  tailored  jackets.  And,  of 
course,  rely  on  new  Odorono  cream  to  keep 
my  clothes  free  from  perspiration  stains 
and  odor."  One  dah  of  Odorono  in  the  A.M. 
keeps  you  dainty  a  full  24  hours. 

And  wait  till  you  see  how  creamy-smooth 
Odoronostays  in  the  jar.  Never  gritty  (even 
if  you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks). 


2.  "When  date  time  comes,    I    remove 

the  jacket,  add  beads  and  crisp  white 
petticoat,  flowers  and  gloves— and  I'm 
set  for  a  romantic  evening.  I'm  confident 
of  my  charm  all  evening  too,  thanks  to 
new  Odorono  cream."  iinuu.se  the  Hal  gene 
in  Odorono  gives  wore  effective  protection 
than  any  deodorant  knoU/n. 


Yet  stainless  Odorono  is  so  sale  and 
gentle— you  can  use  it  even  after  shaving. 
Try  Odorono  yourself— and  see. 


^rJoU  toea^wft©**  &Ar>A  oAeft' 


Sally  Adamson,  Announcer  W.  H.  Mason  and  Raymond 
Hodkinson  on  BBC's  exchange  news  review  program. 


Don   Reihl,  Editor  Swift  and  Lee   Corey   on   KDKA's 
Saturday   morning   review,   Youth   Looks  at  the   News. 


PITTSMM 


n 


ewSwian 


Jack   Swift   is    Chief   News 
Editor  for  Station   KDKA. 


18 


WHEN  Jack  Swift,  editor-in-chief  of  KDKA's  news 
department,  discarded  his  childhood  ambition  to 
become  a  brain  surgeon  and  entered  the  radio 
broadcasting  field,  he  had  no  idea  that  his  action  would 
take  him  back  to  Pittsburgh  where  he  spent  his  boyhood. 

After  finishing  his  high  school  work,  and  one  year  at 
the  University  of  Pittsburgh  in  the  Steel  City,  his  family 
moved  to  Florida  and  he  thought  he  had  left  Pittsburgh 
forever. 

It  was  while  he  was  a  student  at  the  University  of 
Florida,  where  he  spent  four  years,  that  he  got  into 
radio.  Swift,  working  his  way  through  school  as  a 
waiter  in  the  university  dining  room,  jokingly  asked  a 
friend,  associated  with  WRUF,  the  school  and  state 
broadcasting  station: 

"When  are  you  going  to  arrange  that  audition?" 

He  got  the  audition  and  went  to  work  as  an  announcer 
the  next  day.   He's  been  at  it  ever  since. 

Swift  completed  his  college  work  in  1939  and  joined 
the  staff  of  WSUN  in  St.  Petersburg,  Fla.  He  quit  WSUN 
to  take  the  juvenile  lead  in  a  stock  company,  which  he 
left  to  go  to  Los  Angeles  where  he  freelanced  in  radio 
for  various  advertising  agencies. 

He  returned  to  St.  Petersburg  to  become  chief  an- 
nouncer at  WTSP  where  he  remained  for  two  years 
when  he  resigned  to  join  the  staff  at  WSB,  Atlanta  (Ga.) 
Journal  station. 

Swift  came   to   KDKA  as  a  newscaster  in   1944.    He 


became  chief  editor  last  year. 

During  the  war,  Swift  spent  two  years  in  the  Navy. 
Highlight  of  his  Navy  days  came  when  he  interviewed 
"Ike"  Eisenhower  and  broadcast  his  victorious  home- 
coming at  Abilene,  Kansas. 

Six-feet-one-and-a-half  inches  tall  and  weighing  187 
pounds,  Swift  is  interested  in  athletics  of  all  kinds,  but 
he  has  chosen  golf  as  his  favorite  sport. 

Although  he  has  been  an  announcer,  program  man- 
ager, commercial  manager  and  special  eventer  during 
his  years  in  radio,  Swift  is  best  known  to  KDKA 
listeners  as  a  newsman.  He  was  chosen  as  the  mikeman 
for  the  special  broadcasts  carried  on  all  the  Pittsburgh 
stations  during  the  power  strike  which  crippled  the 
city,  and  he  has  been  heard  many  times  on  the  NBC 
World  News  program. 

In  addition  to  his  work  in  the  newsroom,  Swift  has 
the  7:00  A.M.,  8:00  A.M.  and  12  o'clock  noon  newscasts, 
and  a  special  teen-age  news  feature  every  Saturday 
morning  at  9:15,  Youth  Looks  at  the  News. 

The  Youth  Looks  at  the  News  program  takes  part  once 
a  month,  in  an  exchange  program  with  a  broadcast 
which  originates  in  Manchester,  England,  on  BBC.  Swift, 
as  editor  of  the  program,  discusses  the  week's  news  with 
two  teen-agers. 

Swift  married  Winifred  Wagner  of  St.  Petersburg  soon 
after  finishing  school.  They  have  three  children,  Susan 
Erin  Swift.  6;  Jack,  Jr.,  4;  Robert  Morrision  Swift,  1. 


LIFE  CAN  BE  BEAUTIFUL 

(.Continued  from  page  17) 


humanity  the  same  as  millions  of  others. 
Nobody  told  him  it  would  be  for  hu- 
manity of  only  one  color. 

How  can  life  be  beautiful  for  the 
negro — the  average  negro?  Can't  we 
see  it's  up  to  us  to  make  it  so? 

A.  E.  B. 

A  GREAT  LAW 

Dear  Papa  David: 

There  is  a  business  man  in  Seattle, 
Washington,  who  exemplifies  a  great 
spiritual  law  in  his  daily  living.  The 
curious  fact  is  that  he  does  so  uncon- 
sciously. He  is  not  a  religious  person 
and  his  education  ended  at  the  ninth 
grade.  He  hitch-hiked  and  rode  a  bi- 
cycle from  the  middle  west  to  Seattle 
and  got  small  jobs  there.  Now  he  has 
his  own  factory  which  furnishes  an  im- 
plement of  his  designing  all  over  the 
world. 

When  earnings  began  to  accumulate 
he  grew  troubled.  He  remembered  his 
early  poverty  and  thought  gratefully  of 
those  who  had  befriended  him.  He 
wanted  to  do  something  about  it.  His 
first  step  was  to  build  a  guesthouse  on 
his  property  overlooking  one  of  Seat- 
tle's lakes.  It  was  completely  furnished 
and  the  pantry  was  stocked.  Invitations 
were  sent  to  former  friends,  with  trans- 
portation enclosed,  to  use  this  guest- 
house for  a  month. 

The  man  who  delivered  his  laundry 
had  a  hare-lip  which  disfigured  him 
shockingly.  "Son,"  he  said  one  day, 
"would  you  like  to  get  that  little  thing 
fixed  up?"  The  man  cringed  and  mut- 
tered that  he  could  not  afford  the  ex- 
pensive operation  and  lost  time.  My 
friend  put  him  in  a  fine  hospital  with  the 
best  plastic  surgeon  available  and  saw 
him  triumphantly  through.  Another 
time  it  was  a  returned  veteran  hope- 
lessly crippled.  He  was  installed  with 
his  young  wife  in  the  guest-cottage 
while  a  special  car  was  built  that  he 
could  operate  and  a  small  business  set 
up  for  him.  These  are  but  two  of  many 
such  instances. 

Still  the  money  piled  up,  for  every 
time  he  spent  a  large  sum  on  some  hu- 
man sufferer,  his  business  increased  its 
earnings. 

I  first  knew  him  when  he  had  two 
sons,  married  and  sharing  in  the  admin- 
istration of  the  factory's  business  and 
profits.  He  had  been  widowed  for  years 
but  had  recently  married  an  attractive 
woman.  She  told  me  this  story:  When 
they  were  married  he  told  her  that  she 
would  never  be  a  rich  woman  through 
his  death,  and  that  she  would  be  amply 
provided  for  always,  but  need  expect 
no  big  diamonds  and  expensive  fur 
coats  while  he  could  still  find  somebody 
who  needed  that  money  more;  that  he 
would  not  leave  an  estate  for  his  family 
to  quarrel  over  but  give  all  that  he  had 
to  certain  carefully-inspected  charities, 
such  as  the  hospital  for  crippled  chil- 
dren. 

Life,  which  had  once  been  so  sordid 
and  ugly,  became  very  beautiful  for 
this  man  because  he  stumbled  on  a 
great  law:  we  only  own  that  which  we 
share,  and  in  sharing  we  are  invariably 
blessed — spiritually  and  materially. 

N.  B.  M. 


(to^t/IW  smile  wins 
recruits  for  a  proud  profession ! 


Mary  Louise  Shine,  R.  N.,  didn't  know  she  was 
qualifying  as  a  photographer's  model  when  she 
graduated  from  the  Georgetown  University 
School  of  Nursing.  But  remembering  her  cheer- 
ing smile,  former  patients  won't  be  surprised  at 
her  selection  as  a  Model  Nurse.  Her  picture  is 
appearing  everywhere  ...  in  advertisements  and 
on  billboards  .  .  .  inspiring  young  Americans  to 
join  the  proud  nursing  profession.  Now  a  Chi- 
cago doctor's  bride,  Mary  Louise  says  the  tooth 
paste  she  buys  for  her  honeymoon  apartment  is 
the  same  brand  she  used  at  home  — Pepsodent. 
Yes,  her  winning  smile  is  a  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


The  smile  that  wins 
is  the  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


ANOTHER  FINE  LEVER  BROTHERS  PRODUCT 


Mary  Louise  Shine  knows  it,  people  all  over 
America  agree  — the  smile  that  wins  is  the 
Pepsodent  Smile  !  Pepsodent  with  Irium  is 
their  3-to-l  favorite  for  brighter  smiles. 

Wins  3  to  1  over  any  other  tooth  paste 

—  families  from  coast  to  coast  recently 
compared  delicious  New  Pepsodent  with  the 
tooth  paste  they  were  using  at  home.  By  an 
average  of  3  to  1,  they  said  New  Pepsodent 
tastes  better,  makes  breath  cleaner  and  leeth 
brighter  than  any  other  tooth  paste  they 
tried.  For  the  safety  of  your  smile  use  Pepsodent 
twice  a  day  —  see  your  dentist  twice  a  year  ! 


19 


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IT'S  HOLLY- 
WOOD 

Dear  Editor: 

Kindly  settle  a  dis- 
agreement between 
my  friend  and  my- 
self. I  say  that 
Woman  in  White 
and  Today's  Chil- 
dren are  broadcast 
from  the  West  Coast, 

as  I  have  heard  some  SARA  J ANE  WELLS 
of  the  actors  on  Lux  Theater.  My  friend 
tells  me  it  is  Chicago. 

Miss  M.  S. 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 

You're  right!  These  two  serials  do  orig- 
inate in  Hollywood.  And  here's  Sarajane 
Wells  (Eileen  Holmes)  of  Woman  in  White. 


STORY  TELLER 

Dear  Editor: 

Can  you  give  me 
any  information 
about  Nelson  Olm- 
sted? I  have  found 
his  short  stories 
more  interesting 
than  any  other  pro- 
gram on  the  air. 
Mrs.  M.  K. 
Burlington,  N.  C. 


NELSON  OLMSTED 


NBC's  Nelson  Olmsted  (Sun.  2:00  P.M. 
EDT),  although  born  in  Minneapolis,  spent 
most  of  his  youth  in  Texas.  He  became 
interested  in  acting  while  attending  the 
University  of  Texas  where  he  received  his 
Bachelor  of  Science  degree.  He  broke  into 
radio  via  a  local  Austin,  Texas,  station. 


ON  BROADWAY 

Dear  Editor: 

Could  you  give  me 
some  information 
about  the  Goldbergs  ? 
They  have  been  off 
radio  for  nearly  two 
years.  I  would  love 
to  hear  that  lovable 
program   again. 

Miss  M.  H. 
New  York,  N.  Y. 


GERTRUDE  BERG 


It  looks  as  though  it'll  be  quite  some 
time  before  you  hear  the  Goldbergs  on  the 
air  again  as  they  recently  opened  a  play 
based  on  the  serial  on  Broadway — and  it 
was  a  hit!  They're  playing  at  the  Belasco 
theatre  under  the  title  "Me  and  Molly." 
Among  the  former  "nobodys"  who  learned 
acting  in  The  Goldbergs  and  then  went  on 
to  fame  are  John  Garfield,  Minerva  Pious, 
and  Selena  Royle.  Gertrude  Berg,  the  orig- 
inator of  the  serial,  plays  the  role  of  Molly 
ul  the  Belasco. 


LARRY  HAINES 


ONCE  A  MUG 

Dear  Editor: 

One  of  my  fa- 
vorite programs  is 
Rosemary.  I  have 
been  listening  to  it 
since  the  beginning. 
Can  you  tell  me 
something  about 
Larry  Haines  the 
actor  who  takes  the 
part  of  Lefty  Hig- 
gins. 

Miss  I.  M.  K. 
New  Haven,  Conn. 

Larry  Haines,  born  and  educated  in 
Mount  Vernon,  N.  Y.,  got  his  start  in  radio 
playing  hard-boiled  heavies.  Realizing  that 
he  was  becoming  type-cast  as  a  mug,  he 
cut  down  the  percentage  to  the  point  where 
such  characterizations  comprise  only  about 
half  his  work. 

OFF  THE  AIR 

Dear  Editor: 

In  February,  a 
new  program  was 
introduced  on  the 
air,  called  Twelve 
Players.  However, 
lately,  I  haven't  been 
able  to  find  it  any- 
where on  the  dial, 
and  my  family  is 
disappointed.  It  was 
the  most  interesting 
program     I've    ever 

heard  (speaking  truthfully)  and  we've 
waited  patiently  for  another  of  its  unusual 
plays.    Won't  we  ever  hear  it  again? 

Mrs.  A.  D. 
Perth  Amboy,  N.  J. 

This  show  which  was  heard  Mondays  on 
ABC  was  last  broadcast  on  March  29th. 
Twelve  Players  was  a  stock  company  com- 
posed of  a  dozen  of  Hollywood's  best  radio 
actors,  and  one  of  them  was  Lurene  Tattle. 

FORMER 

BREAKFAST 

CLUBBER 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  appreci- 
ate any  information 
you  may  be  able  to 
give  me  as  to  the 
whereabouts  and  ac- 
tivities of  Nancy 
Martin,  formerly  of 
the  Breakfast  Club. 

Mrs.  L.  H.  Jones 
Arlington,  Mass. 

Nancy  (she  is  now  Mrs.  Sam  McEl- 
downey),  is  in  Hollywood  where  she  fre- 
quently appears  in  television  and  where 
she  is  also  engaged  in  voice  dubbing  at 
the   picture   studios.    Nancy  first   sang   on 


LURENE     TUTTLE 


NANCY   MARTIN 


OOTH 


VICKI    VOLA 


the    Breakfast    Club    in     1939.     replacing 
Annette  King. 

HANK 

Dear  Editor: 

Would  you  please 
give  me  some  infor- 
mation about  Hank 
on  One  Man's 
Family? 

_  Miss  G.  J.  $ 

Sedalia,  Colorado 

Seventeen-year-old     «_, 
Conrad  Binyon    (he 
plays     Hank)     who       CONRAD  BINYON 

was  born  in  Holly- 
wood, joined  the  Family  in  April  of  1939. 
And  is  the  only  member  of  the  cast  lacking 
a  colorful  theatrical  background.  (But  he 
seems  to  be  doing  all  right. )  Conrad's 
greatest  ambition  is  someday  to  write  and 
produce  a  program  like  One  Mans  Family. 

MR.  D.  A.'s 
SECRETARY 

Dear  Editor: 

For  some  time  I 
have  been  a  regular 
listener  of  Mr.  Dis- 
trict Attorney  and 
have  become  greatly 
interested  in  Vicki 
Vola  who  portrays 
the  D.  A.'s  secretary 
Edith  Miller.  Re- 
cently, I  discovered  that  she  is  also  Stacy 
McGill  on  the  Christopher  belles  program. 
What  does  she  look  like? 

Miss  R.  R. 
Toledo  10,  Ohio 

As  you  can  see.  Vicki  Vola  still  manages 
to  look  pretty  despite  the  terrific  pushing 
around  she  gets  on  these  two  programs. 
Although  she  resembles  Luise  Rainer,  Vicki 
is  far  from  Viennese — her  ancestry  is  Span- 
ish and  French. 


THEME  SONGS 

Dear   Editor: 

I  listen  to  the 
radio  every  day,  and 
I  would  like  to  have 
some  information  on 
some  theme  songs. 
Could  you  tell  me 
what  theme  songs 
are  used  on  The 
Romance  of  Helen 
Trent,  Life  Can  Be 
Beautiful,  When  a  Girl  Marries,  and  Joyce 
Jordan,  M.  D.?  Would  like  to  see  Les 
Tremavne  of  Jovce  Jordan. 

Miss  A.  S. 
New  York,  N.  Y. 

The  tender  "Juanita"  sets  the  mood  for 
The  Romance  of  Helen  Trent,  and  When 
a  Girl  Marries  is  introduced  by  the  "Sere- 
nade" by  Drigo.  We  weren't,  able  to  help 
you  on  the  theme  for  Life  Can  Be  Beauti- 
ful as  it  is  an  original  piece  and,  so  far, 
is  untitled.  "Poem"  is  the  theme  for  Joyce 
Jordan,  and  here's  Les  Tremavne  who  plays 
the  part  of  Dawson  Blakelv. 


L.ES  TREMAYXE 


Eleanor  sat  on  the  beach 
looking  like  this  . . . 


Jane  looked  slick 


~_  'i,J»*|Si£^*fe*- 


Eleanor  was  a  rag  at  the  party . . . 


Jane  was  smooth 


Mowlmd 


It  was  the  U.S. 

*f     HAIR  DRY  SWIM  CAP 

that  made  the  difference 

Jane  found  out  by  checking  on  the  U.  S.  Howland  what  a  lot  of 
time  and  money  it  could  save  her.  No  hot,  perspiry  hours  in 
summer  for  Jane  under  the  drier.  She  protected  her  hair  with  the 
swim  cap  that  keeps  hair  dry.  Jane  had  good  reasons  for  buying 

it.  You  do,  too. 


1.  Band  of  suction  cups  inside  cap  shuts 
water  out. 

2.  Deep  fit  pulls  cap  closer  to  head. 

3.  Patented  V-shaped  reinforcing  ribs  that 
turn  suction  cups  inward  to  make  a  per- 
fect seal,  protect  ears  and  eliminate 
damp  hair  near  ears. 

4.  Not  just  one  size  but  three  sizes— small, 
medium  and  large — makes  fit  more 
accurate. 

5.  Comes  in  good  sun  colors;  red,  yellow, 
blue  or  white. 

At  leading  stores, 
throughout  the  country. 


A  PRODUCT  OF 


UNITED  STATES 
RUBBER  COMPANY 


21 


Chuck  Thompson  and  Byrum  Saam,  the 
two  WIBG  sportscasters  who  spend  most 
of  their  summer  afternoons  and  even- 
ings in  a  booth  at  Shibe  Park,  giving 
fans     the     ballgames,     play     by     play. 


A  DAY  WITH 

(^kuch  ana  d5i 


v 


22 


THOSE  two  up  there  in  the  WIBG  booth  in  Shibe  Park 
in  Philadelphia,  Byrum  Saam  and  Chuck  Thompson, 
are  a  rather  busy  pair  right  now,  and  they've  been 
mighty  busy  since  the  start  of  the  season  back  in  April. 
What's  more,  they'll  stay  that  busy  until  the  last  out  is 
called,  come  the  end  of  next  September.  Take  an  average 
day  with  By  and  Chuck: 

They're  up  as  early  as  you  are,  for  they  have  to  compile 
a  complete  set  of  records  of  yesterday's  ball  games,  and 
tie  them  in  with  the  season's  totals  to  date,  so  that  at  a 
glance,  they  can  tell  you  what  any  and  every  player  in 
both  the  American  and  National  Leagues  has  done,  right 
to  the  moment. 

After  that,  it's  a  jaunt  to  the  Phillies'  office,  because  the 
club  is  playing  out  of  town  today,  and  they  have  to  get 
any  inside  information  that  headquarters  can  divulge 
about  the  club.  If  it's  a  cloudy  or  rainy  day,  it's  a  con- 
stant check  with  the  A's  office  to  discover  whether  there's 
a  game  at  Shibe  Park  this  afternoon.  If  that  game  is 
rained  out,  they  go  to  the  WIBG  studios  in  downtown 
Philadelphia,  where  a  telegrapher  is  stationed  to  bring 
a  play-by-play  wire  report  of  the  Phillies'  game  from 
out  of  town.  They  do  what  is  termed  a  reconstruction 
game,  from  his  reports,  sitting  at  a  desk  in  a  studio,  with- 
out ever  seeing  a  baseball  pitched  all  afternoon.  If  the 
Phillies  should  happen  to  be  rained  out  too,  our  wire 
game  would  come  from  some  other  city  where  fair 
weather  permits  the  playing  0f  a  game.  That's  why  our 
records  have  to  be  compiled  so  perfectly  every  morning. 
If  the  Cleveland  pitcher  fanned  the  Detroit  baseman,  the 
fans  want  to  know  if  he'd  done  it  before,  and  how  many 


times,  and  when  was  the  last  time?  That  applies  in  the 
case  of  any  batter  against  any  pitcher.  Those  morning 
compilations  are  the  background  of  every  good  baseball 
broadcast.  That's  why  they're  made,  and  kept  so  accu- 
rately. A  sportscaster  has  an  actual  record  of  everything 
a  player  has  done  on  the  field  at  his  fingertips,  from  day 
to  day,  all  season  long.  He  carries  those  records  with 
him  to  the  WIBG  studio,  if  the  game  is  reconstructed  or 
to  Shibe  Park,  if  he's  to  broadcast  from  the  left  field 
radio  booth  there.  When  he  goes  to  the  park,  his  first 
stop  is  the  home  team's  office  for  any  information  he  can 
gather  there,  that  would  make  today's  broadcast  more 
interesting  to  the  fans. 

After  the  visit  to  the  office,  they  stop  into  the  dressing 
rooms  of  both  the  home  and  visiting  teams  to  chat  with 
the  managers  and  players  to  acquire  additional  informa- 
tion that  might  help  their  broadcast.  Then,  they  are 
ready  to  head  for  the  booth  under  the  roof,  and  set  them- 
selves up  for  the  broadcast,  arranging  records  on  the 
players,  line-ups,  commercials  and  information  picked  up 
from  visits  to  the  teams.  With  Saam  and  Thompson  this 
is  practically  automatic.  Having  worked  together  through 
several  seasons,  they  can  practically  read  each  other's 
minds,  and  know  when  and  how  to  do  what,  with  the  least 
expenditure  of  words  and  action. 

When  the  game  starts  it  means  one  hundred  and  fifty 
words  a  minute  of  ad  libbing  for  approximately  two  and 
a  half  hours,  telling  just  what  is  happening  down  there  on 
the  field,  in  a  manner  that  keeps  the  fans  keenly  interested 
every  minute  of  the  game,  the  same  fans  who  say,  "Those 
baseball  broadcasters — what  a  cinch  job  they  have!" 


^adna  iAe  tyMu^tc 


TEX  BENEKE 


RUMOR  has  it  that  one  of  the  reasons 
the  three  branches  of  our  military 
service  were  combined  under  one 
Secretary  was  a  young  man  named 
Gordon  Lee  Beneke.  For  Tex,  of  the 
United  States  Navy,  was  the  man 
selected  to.  lead  the  late  Major  Glenn 
Miller's  Army  Air  Force  Band. 

It  wasn't  fate  that  put  Tex  in  front 
of  Glenn's  post-war  band.  Mrs.  Glenn 
Miller  and  manager  Don  Haynes  also 
knew  that  Glenn  would  have  wanted 
Tex  to  lead  the  band. 

Major  Miller  started  on  a  flight  from 
England  to  France  one  morning  in  De- 
cember, 1944.  He  never  reached  his 
destination.  But  Tex  Beneke  agreed  to 
lead  the  band  only  after  arranging 
that  it  would  be  billed  as  "The  Glenn 
Miller  Orchestra."  That's  how  the 
band  premiered  at  New  York's  Capitol 
Theater  in  January  of  1946. 

Recently,  however,  Mrs.  Miller,  Don 
and  Tex  agreed  that  it  would  be  best 
to  change  over  and  call  the  band  Tex 
Beneke  and  his  Orchestra.  Mrs.  Miller, 
you  see,  is  still  a  partner  in  the  or- 
ganization. Fact  is,  Glenn  is  still  with 
the  band.  Trombonist  Jerry  Priddy,  to 
whom  Glenn  had  handed  his  own  trom- 
bone, has  never  failed  to  carry  Glenn's 
horn  with  the  band's  equipment.  The 
size  and  instrumentation  of  the  band 
are  in  agreement  with  what  Glenn  had 
told  Don  he  wanted  for  his  post-war 
aggregation.  Even  chief  arranger 
Norm  Leyden  was  first  discovered  by 
Glenn   while   in   the   Army. 

More  than  all  this,  the  band  has 
carried  on  in  the  tradition  of  being 
the  miracle  band  of  the  nation.  Glenn 
always  had  a  group  that  was  finan- 
cially on  top.  And  now,  when  many 
orchestras  are  finding  it  difficult  to 
keep  going  in  the  face  of  rising  costs 
and  fewer  jobs,  the  Tex  Beneke  unit 
is  traveling  with  thirty-one  musicians 
and  breaking  records  from  coast  to 
coast.  No  small  reason,  of  course,  is 
the  series  of  hit  discs  the  band  has 
been  turning  out  for  RCA  Victor.  Add 
to  that  national  radio  programs  such  as 
the  Army  Air  Force  show  on  Mutual. 

Most  amazing  of  all,  perhaps,  is  that 
although  Glenn  Miller  last  toured  the 
country  with  his  own  band  in  1940,  the 
most  requested  tunes  even  now  are  the 
old  Miller  records  such  as  "Kala- 
mazoo," "In  The  Mood,"  "Little  Brown 
Jug,"  "Chattanooga  Choo  Choo"  and 
"Ida." 


Miracle  deodorant  ends 


your  perspiration  worries ! 


t 


ETIQUET  actually  ends  under-arm 
perspiration  odor— safely— surely! 


ETIQUET-made  by  specially 
patented  formula— really  checks 
under-arm  perspiration! 


IBIKffftSI 


FLUFFY-LIGHT  AND  SOOTHING  - 

Etiquet  goes  on  easily— disappears 
in  a  jiffy!  No  gritty  particles! 


MORE  ECONOMICAL  TO  BUY- 

Etiquet  won't  dry  out  in  the  jar! 


NO  DAMAGE  TO  CLOTHING 

when  you  use  Etiquet— famous 
cloth-test  proves ! 

PRODUCT   OF  LEHN   a   FINK 


I 


I 


THE    SAFE-AND-SURE 
DEODORANT 

\  t     -"J 

$      ,*t.. 


23 


ALL  KINDS  of 


Clint   Buehlman,   more   than   a 
disc     jockey  —  an     institution! 


Clint,  his  wife,  Marcia, 
and  son  Mark  pose  while 
young     Marcia     sketches. 


R 
M 

24 


CLINT  BUEHLMAN  is  more  than  a  disc  jockey— he's 
an  institution,  but  he'd  be  the  last  to  admit  it  and  the 
first  to  make  a  crack  about  that  word  "institution." 

But  a  fellow  can't  be  on  the  air  for  practically  three 
hours  a  day,  six  days  a  week  for  something  like  fifteen 
years  without  becoming  a  daily  habit.  Besides,  his 
"Hooper"  consistently  indicates  his  shows  pull  more 
listeners  than  all  the  opposition  combined — and  that's 
something. 

In  fact,  you  rarely  hear  the  Buehlman  name  men- 
tioned on  his  show.  It's  generally,  "This  Is  Yours  Truly 
Buehly,"  and  that's  all. 

Buehly  is  a  native  of  Buffalo  and  attended  schools  in 
both  Buffalo  and  Rochester,  graduating  from  John  Mar- 
shall High  in  Rochester.  He  is  now  celebrating  his  silver 
anniversary  in  radio,  but  he's  not  the  greybeard  you 
might  think.  He  first  broke  into  radio  in  a  small  way  in 
Buffalo  back  in  1923  as  a  child  actor.  "Yes — I  was  one 
of  those  brats— don't  you  hate  'em?"  he  says. 

Clint  is  a  proficient  pianist  but  confines  his  playing 
to  his  own  living  room.  His  one  great  hobby  is  fishing 
and,  believe  it  or  not,  he  always  manages  his  schedule 
so  as  to  take  off  a  few  days  periodically  to  fish  with  his 
78-year-old  grandmother.  He  used  to  visit  her  fre- 
quently when  she  lived  down  state  in  Pennsylvania,  but 
now  that  is  unnecessary — Grandmother  lives  with  Clint. 
So  does  one  of  his  favorite  people— his  mother-in-law. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Buehlman  live  in  a  Buffalo  suburb,  and 


have  a  daughter,  Marcia,  six  years  old,  and  a  son,  Mark, 
who  is  one  and  one-half. 

Buehly  has  won  widespread  praise  from  parents, 
pupils,  teachers  and  the  general  public  for  his  auditions 
for  junior  m.c.s.  For  twenty  weeks  this  Winter  and 
Spring  he  conducted  a  contest  at  a  specified  high  school 
to  determine  the  most  promising  radio  personality  in 
each  of  the  four  classes — freshman,  sophomore,  junior, 
senior.  Every  Saturday  morning  he  auditioned  the  four 
top  vote-getters  and  selected  a  boy  to  be  his  assistant  for 
one  week.  Each  week's  winner  received  a  $50  bond  and 
$10  for  expenses — to  cover  cabfare  and  the  like — and  an 
invaluable  boost  in  his  ambitions. 

At  Christmas  time  1946  an  association  organized  to  aid 
underprivileged  children  in  rural  schools  asked  him  to 
broadcast  an  appeal  for  "used"  greeting  cards.  Any  kind 
were  wanted — to  teach  children  color  and  to  provide 
bookmarks,  scrapbooks  and  the  like.  Clint  made  six 
simple,  brief  announcements.  Then  the  postoffice  called 
for  help.  Some  96  mailbags — more  than  three  tons — 
with  something  like  an  estimated  1,500,000  cards  de- 
scended on  WBEN  from  New  York  State,  Pennsylvania 
and  Ontario.  It  was  necessary  to  get  a  special  freight  car 
to  transport  the  cards  to  the  society's  headquarters  in 
New  York  City.  The  company  decided  to  call  a  halt  then 
and  there.  Later  it  was  learned  that  Buffalo  and  Buehl- 
man contributed  more  cards  than  the  rest  of  the  entire 
country  solicited! 


WHAT'S  NEW  from 

COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page  15) 

At  this  writing,  NBC  is  hoping  and 
planning  to  have  Fred  Allen  broadcast 
over  television  as  well  as  radio,  but  the 
comic  is  balking,  because  he'd  have  to 
please  three  separate  audiences — radio 

studio  and  video. 

*  *         * 

William  Bendix,  who's  playing  the 
role  of  the  wonderful  and  forever  re- 
markable King  of  Swat,  in  the  forth- 
coming movie  on  the  life  of  Babe  Ruth 
is  being  flooded  with  letters  giving  him 
advice  on  how  to  play  the  part.  Inci- 
dentally, another  radio  performer  has 
also  been  signed  for  that  picture.  Bobby 
Ellis,  who  plays  Alexander  on  the 
"Blondie"     show,     will     portray     Babo 

Ruth  as  a  boy. 

*  *         * 

More  and  more  like  home!  San  Quen- 
tin  prison  now  has  its  own  disc  jockey. 
The  prison  has  a  big  record  library  and 
music   is   carried   through    an   intercell 

hook-up. 

*  *         * 

Dix  Davis,  who  plays  Randolph  Fos- 
ter on  the  Date  With  Judy  show,  has 
sadly  turned  down  a  summer  stock  bid. 
He'll  be  graduated  from  the  University 
of  Southern  California  this  June  and 
is  going  to  get  to  work  on  winning  his 
master's  degree  with  some  courses  dur- 
ing the  summer  session.  He's  majoring 
in  foreign  trade,  which  sounds  like  a 
forward  looking  idea. 

*  *         * 

There's  some  talk  going  around  that 
radio  will  be  handing  out  its  own 
Academy  Awards  in  the  near  future  for 
outstanding  work  on  the  airlanes.  But 
the  Superman  outfit  isn't  waiting 
around  for  that  to  happen.  For  consist- 
ently outstanding  performances  on  this 
series,  members  of  the  cast  are  getting 
a  Superman  Oscar,  which  consists  of  a 
tiny  silver  figure  of  Superman,  to  be 
worn  on  a  bracelet  or  watch  chain. 

We're  kind  of  sorry  that  Child's 
World  has  been  shifted  from  the  Sun- 
day evening  spot  to  one  on  Thursdays 
at  10  P.M.  We  think  this  unrehearsed 
program  is  one  of  the  best  on  the  air  to- 
day. Anyone  with  any  children  should 
listen,  because  the  show  gives  you  a 
chance  to  find  out  many  things  about 
your  own  children,  from  the  mouths  of 
other  children,  which  you'd  never  be 
able  to  dig  out  in  a  million  years  with- 
out the  help  of  a  competent,  under- 
standing educator  and  psychologist  like 
Helen  Parkhurst,  who  runs  the  doings. 

*  *         * 

Well,  Morton  Downey's  won  his  point. 
He's  switched  to  NBC,  now,  and  he'd 
have  been  there  a  long  time  ago,  if  it 
hadn't  taken  him  so  long  to  convince 
the  bigwigs  that  his  late  time  spot  was 
the  very  best  spot  for  him  to  be  in. 
Downey  thinks  it's  such  a  good  time  be- 
cause he  feels  that  after  listeners  have 
been  beaten  on  the  ears  for  hours  by 
the  world  news — none  of  which  is  so 
lovely  and  charming  these  days — 
they're  generally  nervous.  And  that's 
not  a  state  conducive  to  slumber. 
Downey  plans  his  programs  very  care- 
fully, so  that  they'll  soothe  his  listeners 
for  those  fifteen  minutes  between  11: 15 

and  11:30. 

*  *         * 

There  are  two  Billy  Roses  in  radio. 
One  of  them,  of  course,  is  the  versatile 
one  who  indulges  in  Pitching  Horse- 
shoes on  his  own  show  of  that  name. 
The    other   is   a    very    busy    and    well 


DOLE 


^(MM^j^t  IpOW 


The  Most  Feminine 
Face  Powder  Color  Ever  Created 

NOW  One  Color  is  Intensely  Flattering  To 
All  Types  of  Skin,  Including  YOURS! 

46 


Here's  something  wonderfully  new 
and  different  in  a  shade  of  face  pow- 
der! A  color  that  is  so  truly  feminine 
it  not  only  flatters,  but  brings  you  a 
charm  that  is  entirely  new  and  com- 
pletely captivating. 

And  my  exciting  new  "Bridal  Pink" 
is  for  you,  because  I  have  tried  it  on 
every  skin-color  type  I  could  find,  and 
without  exception  every  girl,  every 
woman  who  wore  it,  instantly  found 
herself  more  interesting,  more  excit- 
ing than  ever  before. 

IF  you're  a  Blond,  "Bridal  Pink"  will 
intensify  your  blondness,  make  you 
look  more  feminine  than  ever. 

IF  you're  a  Brunei,  with  fair  skin  . . . 
"Bridal  Pink"  glorifies  this  contrast 
with  a  new,  more  feminine  look. 


Jay  Thorpe  Original 

IF  you're  Brown-Haired,  with  a  me- 
dium skin . .  ."Bridal  Pink"  will  bring 
you  the  exciting  lift  of  new  femininity. 

IF  you're  Auburn -Haired,  with  a 
pale  complexion  . . .  Bridal  Pink"  will 
wake  up  your  skin,  giving  it  the  life 
and  warmth  of  real  live  femininity. 

Lady  Esther  "Bridal  Pink"  Now 
at  all  Good  Cosmetic  Counters 

Look  different  tomorrow!  Appear  with 
this  newly  beautiful,  more  feminine 
look.  See  how  your  face  lights  up  with 
instant  new  life  and  warmth.  Find 
out,  as  you  will,  how  much  more 
attractive  you  immediately  become. 

Lady  Esther  Face  Powder  is  sold  at 
the  best  stores  in  500  and  250 
sizes.  Get  your  box  of  Lady  Esther 
"Bridal  Pink"  today! 


26 


©  1-J4H  L«dy  Either 


known  Chicago  radio  actor — and  no  re- 
lation to  the  New  York  fellow — who's 
working  currently  on  the  Tom  Mix 
stanza,  portraying  Tommy,  the  Chinese 
boy. 

*  *         * 

Bill  Lawrence,  who  directs  the 
Screen  Guild  Players  shows,  has  a  tip 
for  young  aspirants  to  radio  careers. 
His  advice  is  for  youngsters  to  stop  try- 
ing to  build  themselves  up  as  character 
actors  with  half  a  dozen  dialects  in  their 
voice  boxes.  Lawrence  says  that  the 
character  field  is  very  tough  to  crack 
because  competition  is  very  stiff,  but 
every  radio  producer  is  constantly 
looking  for  fresh,  new  voices  for 
straight  acting  parts.  Actually,  reading 
straight  lines  and  making  them  con- 
vincing and  dramatically  effective  is  a 
pretty  tough  job. 

*  ■  *        * 

Bret  Morrison  of  Song  of  the  Stranger 
and  The  Shadow  has  been  signed  to  star 
in  a  series  of  six  movies  to  be  made  in 
New  York.  Versatile  Bret  will  play  the 
role  of  a  killer  in  the  psychological 
thriller  series. 

*  *        * 

You  probably  know  that  on  the  Case 
Book  of  Gregory  Hood,  they  sometimes 
use  real  characters  to  give  the  show  the 
proper  touch  of  realism.  Once  in  a 
while,  the  actual  person — say  J.  Edgar 
Hoover,  or  a  Senator,  or  a  band  leader, 
appears  as  a  guest  and  plays  "himself 
in  the  script.  Usually,  an  actor  will  do 
an  imitation  of  the  real  person.  For 
this,  the  program  has  to  get  what's 
called  a  release  from  the  individual  to 
be  portrayed.  That's  normal  enough. 
But  what  strikes  us  a  little  bit  funny  is 
that  when  the  script  mentions  a  place, 
let's  say  the  Wardman  Park  Hotel  in 
Washington,  or  the  Racquet  Club  in 
Palm  Springs,  the  producers  have  to  get 
releases  from  the  places  mentioned! 

*  ■  *        * 

Eastern  agency  representatives  in 
Hollywood  to  buy  summer  replacement 
shows  reveal  that  their  top  budget 
figure  is  $5000 — or  about  50%  below  the 
price  paid  for  "dog  days"  shows  during 
the  past  two  years.  From  the  looks  of 
things,  1948  will  be  the  lightest  com- 
mercial summer  on  the  networks  since 
1940. 

Pat  O'Brien  and  Virginia  Bruce  will 
co-star  in  the  summer  dramatic  series 
replacing  Jimmy  Durante  this  summer. 
Writing  and  direction  will  be  in  charge 
of  True  Boardman. 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  FROM  HITHER 
AND  YON  .  .  .  Wired  music,  with  spon- 
sored commercials,  goes  into  stores 
soon  .  .  .  Mutual's  Mysterious  Traveler 
is  coming  out  in  comic  book  form  with 
a  possibility  of  a  daily  cartoon  strip  in 
the  offing  .  .  .  Hurray,  hurray,  sponsors 
have  renewed  contracts  for  Queen 
For  a  Day  and  Heart's  Desire.  Now 
you  can  relax  .  .  .  Ilene  Woods  is  do- 
ing the  speaking  and  singing  voice 
for  Walt  Disney's  "Cinderella,"  feature 
length  cartoon  .  .  .  Radio  Comic  Herb 
Shriner  is  working  in  his  first  Broad- 
way musical,  "Inside  U.S.A."  .  .  .  Jack 
Smith  has  shifted  from  New  York  to 
Hollywood  and  will  do  most  of  his  sum- 
mer broadcasts  from  there  .  .  .  An- 
nouncer Ken  Niles  has  named  his  sea- 
going cruiser  after  one  of  his  shows, 
The  Life  of  Riley  .  .  .  Don  McLaughlin 
of  David  Harding,  Counterspy,  is  star- 
ring in  the  Broadway  play,  "Happy 
Journey"  ...  A  series  starring  husky- 
voiced  Tallulah  Bankhead  is  being 
readied  for  fall  airing  .  .  .  CBS  offered 
Milton  Berle  an  executive  post  in  tele- 
vision, but  the  comic  turned  it  down. 


Teen-age  Barbara  is  CBS's  new  Junior 
Miss    (Saturdays   at    11:30   A.M.   EDT). 


Barbara    1/1/ hi  tin 


9 


WELL,  that  sidesplitting  Junior  Miss 
of  stage  and  screen  is  all  set  for  a 
long,  long  run  on  the  radio.  You 
hear  it  these  days  on  CBS,  Saturdays  at 
11:30  A.M.  EDT,  with  Barbara  Whiting. 

The  late  Dick  Whiting  left  more  to 
posterity  than  a  whole  list  of  song  hits, 
among  them  "Till  We  Meet  Again,"  "Be- 
yond The  Blue  Horizon,"  "My  Ideal," 
and  "Sleepy  Time  Gal."  The  success  of 
his  two  talented,  lovely  daughters  bids 
fair  to  outlive  the  popularity  of  any 
song.  Margaret  Whiting  has  already 
made  her  mark  as  a  singer.  Now,  it 
looks  as  though  her  little  sister  Bar- 
bara is  likely  to  take  over  a  special 
comedy  "Great"  spot  and  make  it  all 
her  own. 

Barbara  was  born  in  Hollywood,  Cal- 
ifornia, almost  exactly  sixteen  years 
ago.  Last  January  she  was  graduated 
from  University  High  School.  All  of 
which  makes  her  being  cast  in  the  title 
role  of  Junior  Miss  pretty  much  a  job 
of  type  casting.  Besides,  the  whole  pat- 
tern of  the  show  is  more  or  less  familiar 
to  her,  since  she  played  the  part  of 
Fuffy  Adams  in  the  screen  version  of 
Sally  Benson's  play.  While  still  at  high 
school,  she  also  played  in  the  film, 
"Home  Sweet  Homicide." 

Until  quite  recently,  it  was  a  ques- 
tion in  the  Whiting  household  just  what 
Barbara  would  do  for  a  career.  She  is 
very  talented.  She  plays  the  piano  well 
and  is  also  a  pretty  good  song  stylist. 
In  fact,  she  was  the  first  to  sijig  "Pass 
That  Peace  Pipe,"  performing  for 
friends  at  a  party.  Later,  her  sister, 
Maggie,  was  signed  to  make  a  recording 
of  that  song.  Barbara,  still  listing  her 
talents,   also  writes   a  bit. 

Barbara  isn't  entirely  new  to  the 
radio  listener.  She  played  Mildred  in 
the  Meet  Corliss  Archer  series.  In  a 
way,  her  experience  on  that  show  about 
adolescent  girls  can  be  considered  a 
part  of  her  training  for  her  new  role. 
And,  although  she  looks  just  right  and 
.  is  about  the  right  age  for  the  role  of 
Junior  Miss,  let  no  one  think  that  the 
type  casting  goes  all  the  way.  Barbara 
is  a  girl  with  a  bit  of  a  head  on  her 
shoulders  and  she'll  probably  not  wind 
up  the  eternal  sub-ingenue  on  the  air. 


SUNLIGHT  WITCHERY 

.  ..for'Lustre-Creme" 
Dream  Girls  Only 


MANY  A  BRIDE  owes  much  to  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo  for  her  soft,  bewitching  "Dream 
Girl"  hair.  Not  a  soap,  not  a  liquid,  Lustre- 
Creme  is  a  dainty  new,  rich-lathering  cream 
shampoo.  Created  by  cosmetic  genius  Kay^ 
Daumit,  to  glamorize  hair,  to  leave  hair  with 
new  three-way  loveliness: 

1.  Fragrantly  clean,  free 
of  loose  dandruff 

2.  Glistening  with  sheen 

3.  Soft,  easy  to  manage 

Lustre-Creme  is  a  rare  blend  of  secret 
ingredients — plus  gentle  lanolin,  akin  to 
natural  oils  hi  a  healthy  scalp.  Lathers 
instantly  in  hard  or  soft  water 
No  special  rinse  needed.  Try 
Lustre-Creme  Shampoo!  Be 
a  Dream  Girl  ...  a  lovely 
"Lustre-Creme"  Girl. 

Kay  Daumit,  Inc.  (Successorl 

9I9  N.  Michigan  Avenue,  Chicago,  III.   ™ 

Whether  you  prefer  the  TUBE  or  the  JAR 


For 
Soft. 

Glamorous 

Bream-Girl 

Hair 


4-oz.  jar  $1.00;  smaller 
sizes  in  jars  or  lubes.  4l)c  and 
25#.    \i  all  cosmetic  counters 


you'll   prefer   LUSTRE-CREME  SHAMPOO 


You  can  say  "yes" 
to  Romance*  •• 


Veto  says  "no"  Veto  says  "no" 

—  to  perspiration  worry  and  odor!  —to  harming  skin  and  elothes! 

Sofl  ua  a  caress  .  .  .  exciting  .  .  .  new— Veto  is  Colgate's  So  effective  .  .  .  yet  so  penile— Colgate's  Velo  is  harm- 
wonderful  cosmetic  deodorant,  Always  creamy,  always  less  to  any  normal  skin.  Harmless,  too,  even  to  .your 
Bmooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you  lovely  all  day!  filmiest,  your  most  fragile  fabrics.  For  Velo  alone  con- 
Veto  slops  lerarm  odor  instantly  ...  checks  perspi-  tains   Duralex,  Colgate's  exclusive  new   ingredient   to 

ration  effective!) .   You  feel  sure  of  your  o\\  n  daintiness.  make  Velo  safer.  No  oilier  deodorant  can  be  like  Velo! 

Trust  ahrnifH  to    I  Wo  if  i/oii  value  i/our  vhtirm! 


Just  listening  to  radio 

didn't  earn  Bill  this  title.    That  was 

merely  the  way  it  all  began 


NUMBER  ONE  FAN 


WEBSTER  defines  a  fan  as  "an  enthusiastic  devotee 
of  a  particular  diversion."  Take  that  definition, 
multiply  it  by  a  couple,  of  thousand,  and  you've 
got  Bill  Geringer,  radio's  show-goer  extraordinary. 

Slight  nineteen-year-old  Bill  is  the  little  man  who's 
practically  always  there  in  the  studio  audience,  smit- 
ing his  palms  or  giving  with  the  laughs  that  issue  from 
loudspeakers  coast  to  coast.  During  the  past  four 
years — since  he  was  fifteen — young  Bill  has  person- 
ally attended  some  six  to  seven  thousand  radio  shows, 
averaging  four  a  night  on  weekdays  and  seven  or  eight 
on  Saturdays  and  Sundays.  Week  in,  week  out,  morn- 
ing, noon  (he  frequently  skips  lunch)  and  night,  Bill 
haunts  the  studios,  major  networks  or  independents, 
taking  in  audience  shows.  Going  to  radio  shows  is 
Bill's  hobby  and  he  is  an  absolute  fanatic  about  it. 

Here's  the  way  Bill  feels  about  it,  as  he  explained 
to  his  parents  way  back  when  they  first  showed  con- 
cern over  his  devotion  to  radio: 

"It's  a  hobby.  Like  collecting  stamps  or  match-covers 
or  autographs." 

"Yes,"  his  father  agreed,  "but  what  have  you  got  to 
show  for  all  the  time  you  put  in  at  it?" 

"What,"  countered  Bill,  with  all  due  respect  toward 
his  father,  "have  you  got  to  show  for  all  the  movies 
and  plays  you  saw  and  books,  magazines  and  news- 
papers you  read?" 

When  his  dad  pointed  out  that  these  things  either 
entertained  for  the  moment  or  improved  the  mind,  Bill 
just  grinned  meaningfully  at  his  parents;  they  saw  that 
he  had  something  there  and  let  him  keep  at  it  without 
another  word  of  reproof,  save  that  he  keep  up  with 
his  work  and  get  home  at  a  reasonable  hour.  Home  is 
a  small  brownstone  apartment  on  West  End  Avenue, 
in  New  York  City. 

It  all  began  one  summer's  day  four  years  ago.  It 
was  a  broiling  hot  day  and  Bill  was  idling  through 
Radio  City  with  little  money  in  his  pockets  and  much 


time  on  his. hands.  He  noticed  a  long  line  of  people  fil- 
ing through  an  entrance  to  the  NBC  studios  in  the 
RCA  building.  He  got  on  line,  too,  and  soon  was  seated 
comfortably  in  an  air-cooled  studio,  awaiting  he  knew 
not  what. 

As  luck  would  have  it,  the  program  was  Here's  Babe 
Ruth,  a  sustaining  show  featuring  stories  about  the 
Sultan  of  Swat  on  WEAF  (now  WNBC).  It  was  just 
the  kind  of  program  that  would  entrance  an  impres- 
sionable fifteen-year-old,  who,  if  the  truth  be  known, 
wouldn't  have  minded  being  in  the  bleachers  at  the 
Yankee  Stadium,  at  the  time. 

"How  long  has  this  been  going  on?"  Bill  asked  him- 
self as  he  settled  back  in  his  chair  and  gratefully 
sniffed  the  purified  atmosphere  provided  by  NBC.  At 
any  rate,  after  the  broadcast,  he  made  inquiries  and 
learned  that  there  were  many  other  free  audience 
shows  that  afternoon.  Bill  took  them  all  in  and  it 
wasn't  until  dusk  had  cast  long,  cool  shadows  across 
Manhattan's  simmering  sidewalks  that  Bill  quit  the 
building  and  headed  for  home. 

The  next  morning,  bright  and  early,  Bill  was  back 
at  the  studios,  perfectly  willing  for  NBC  to  wile  away 
another  tedious  summer's  day  for  him.  From  9: 00  A.M. 
to  9:00  P.M.  Bill  remained  cloistered  in  the  cool  and 
colorful  confines  of  Radio  City.  He  had  discovered  a 
new  and  fascinating  world  and  he  just  had  no  desire 
to  venture  out  into  the  real  but  none  too  inviting  one 
outside.  He  took  in  seven  or  eight  programs  in  all 
that  day.  He  doesn't  recall  whether  he  even  remem- 
bered to  take  time  out  for  lunch. 

The  rest  of  that  long  summer  vacation  was  more  of 
the  same  thing.  After  a  few  weeks  of  it,  however,  Bill 
began  to  learn  the  ropes  and  to  exercise  discrimination 
in  the  shows  he  chose  to  see.  He  pestered  ushers  and 
receptionists  at  the  various  studios  with  a  flock  of 
questions.  After  a  while  the  studio  employees  and 
even  a  few  performers  came   (Continued  on  page  98) 


29 


EVERY  woman  who  starts  her  day  by  listening 
to  Don  McNeill  on  the  American  Broadcasting 
Company's  Breakfast  Club  must,  at  some  time 
or  another,  have  wondered  if  his  stories  about  Kay 
and  the  boys  weren't  just  too  good  to  be  true. 

She  must,  sometime,  have  turned  to  her  hus- 
band, asking,  "Dear,  do  you  suppose  it  really 
happens  that  way?" 

She  wouldn't  be  human  if  she  didn't  add,  "Don't 
the  McNeills  ever  have  any  problems?" 

Answers  to  the  twin  questions  are  easy. 

To  number  one — yes,  Don's  radio  reporting  is 
accurate.  Daily,  a  goodly  portion  of  McNeill 
living  is  passed  on  to  the  radio  audience.  More,  in 
fact,  than  listeners  realize. 

To  the  second — sure,  the  McNeills  have  prob- 
lems. They  wouldn't  be  the  vital,  interesting 
family  you  hear  on  the  air  if  they  didn't  have. 

But  Don  and  Kay  McNeill  also  have  that  quality 
our  grandparents  used  to  call  "character."  What 
they  believe,  what  they  think,  what  they  want, 
shapes  their  lives  into  a  pattern  which  today  is 
rarely  found  in  the  families  of  stars. 

You  need  to  have  traveled  the  Celebrity  Circuit 
with   big   names   of   stage,    screen   and    radio    to 


By 

HELEN 
BOLSTAD 


v"j 


W 


e 


ww  mi 


d  vUit 


DOM 


]m  j^mJXu  o^  w 


m  WMJL 


— 


b  iki  mmwjim^  maiiib  it  jioiiul 


How  to  spoil  a  father:  Tommy, 

Don  Jr.,  and  Bobby  wait  on  him  hand 

and  foot.    Not  often,  though — 

usually  it's  "him  what  works,  eats." 


Outside,  the  McNeill  house  in  Wiimetka 

welcomes  as  expansively  as  the  smiles  of  Kay  and  Don. 

Inside,  there  are  more  reflections  of 

family  character;  Kay's  "decorator  touch"  is  evident. 


Don    McNeill    and    the   Breakfast   Club    are    heard 
on  ABC,  Monday  through  Friday  at  9  A.  M.,  EDT 


31 


» 


EVERY  woman  who  starts  her  day  by  listening 
to  Don  McNeill  on  the  American  Broadcasting 
Company's  Breakfast  Club  must,  at  some  time 
or  another,  have  wondered  if  his  stories  about  Kay 
and  the  boys  weren't  just  too  good  to  be  true. 

She  must,  sometime,  have  turned  to  her  hus- 
band, asking,  "Dear,  do  you  suppose  it  really 
happens  that  way?" 

She  wouldn't  be  human  if  she  didn't  add,  "Don't 
the  McNeills  ever  have  any  problems?" 

Answers  to  the  twin  questions  are  easy. 

To  number  one — yes,  Don's  radio  reporting  is 
accurate.  Daily,  a  goodly  portion  of  McNeill 
living  is  passed  on  to  the  radio  audience.  More,  in 
fact,  than  listeners  realize. 

To  the  second — sure,  the  McNeills  have  prob- 
lems. They  wouldn't  be  the  vital,  interesting 
family  you  hear  on  the  air  if  they  didn't  have. 

But  Don  and  Kay  McNeill  also  have  that  quality 
our  grandparents  used  to  call  "character."  What 
they  believe,  what  they  think,  what  they  want, 
shapes  their  lives  into  a  pattern  which  today  is 
rarely  found  in  the  families  of  stars. 

You  need  to  have  traveled  the  Celebrity  Circuit 
with   big  names   of  stage,   screen   and    radio    to 


By 

HELEN 

BOLSTAD 


How  to  spoil  a  Father:  Tommy, 

Don  Jr..  and  Bobby  wait  on  him  bund 

-ind  foot.    Not  often,  though — 

usually  it's  "him  what  works,  eats." 


Jfe  ijziumtL  ojj~uW  Wifcfc  m  jjiwniu|  "tfidt  moSm  it  Pioiiii 

v  i 


Outside,  the  McNeill  house  in  Winnelka 

welcomes  as  expansively  as  the  smiles  of  Kay  and  Don, 

Inside,  there  are  more  reflection*  of 

family  character;    Kay's  "decorator  touch"  in  evident. 


Don    McNeill    -ad    the    Breakfait  Club    arc    heard 
on  ABC,  MoDefcV  through  Friday  at  'I  A.  M.,  EDT 


I  >< 


Kjm\L  cundL  visit 


The  limestone  house  is  big;  it  had  to  be,  for  it's 
usually    as    full    of    friends    as    it    is    of    family. 


Icebox-raiding  time  gives  the  McNeill  men  a  chance  to 
kill    two    birds:     they    eat    and    they    talk    about    life. 


In  the  birch-paneled  den,  a  gin  rummy  game 


understand  just  how  rare  it  is. 

You  need  to  know  how  easily,  when 
fans  clamor  around,  you  can  puff  up 
your  ego  like  a  circus  balloon. 

You  need  to  feel  the  weariness  that 
comes  from  everlasting  demands  on 
your  time — demands  that  can  wring 
you  dry  by  the  end  of  the  day,  with  no 
energy  left  to  take  a  normal,  human 
interest  in  your  family  and  friends, 
demands  that  leave  you  but  a  single 
desire — to  sleep. 

YOU  need  to  share  the  tragedy  of  some 
of  the  show  business  divorces  by 
knowing,  over  the  years,  a  few  of  the 
nice  young  couples  who  battled  to- 
gether for  success,  but  when  it  came, 
split  apart  because  they  couldn't  save 
time  for  a  private  life. 

To  complete  the  picture,  you  should 
know  some  of  the  celebrities'  children. 

It's  toughest  on  them.  Some  turn  out 
awful  brats  who  have  learned  to  get 
their  share  of  attention  by  misbehaving. 
Then  there's  the  opposite  kind — the 
frustrated,  silent,  sulky  little  ones.  Both 
kinds  discover  early  that  when  either 
mummy  or  daddy  remains  a  spoiled 
child  and  never  bothers  to  grow  up,  the 
youngsters  get  only  a  taste  of  childhood. 

That  probably  furnishes  the  most  im- 


32 


is  kibitzed  by  the  boys  and  spaniel  Flag. 


Don  Sr.  and  Jr.  have  a  hands-off  agreement  with  Kay 
about  the  bay-window  greenhouse  she  prizes  so  highly. 


portant  clue  to  what  makes  the  Mc- 
Neills tick. 

Both  Don  and  Kay  are  adults.  Men- 
tally and  emotionally,  they  have  grown 
up.  They  enjoy  being  parents.  They 
don't  compete  with  their  kids  for  a 
chance  to  be  children. 

You  in  the  radio  audience  sense  that 
just  as  keenly  as  their  boys  do. 

In  the  100,000  letters  and  cards  you 
write  Don  McNeill  each  year,  you  con- 
fide your  problems  and  share  your  joys. 
Few  of  you  send  mash  notes.  Instead, 
you  realize  he  is  a  good  friend  who 
has  lived  enough  to  understand  your 
worries  and  to  appreciate  the  wonder- 
ful little  things  that  happen  in  your  own 
families.  You're  pleased  when  he,  in 
turn,  passes  them  on  to  the  whole  big 
Breakfast  Club  audience,  all  over  the 
country. 

His  sons  have  the  same  attitude.  If 
an  Academy  of  Family  Arts  and 
Sciences  existed  to  award  "Oscars"  to 
successful  fathers,  Don  McNeill  would 
be  a  sure  winner. 

Most  vital  factor  in  that  success  is 
Don's  way  of  letting  his  boys  know 
they  are  important  to  him. 

If  you  traveled  over  the  winding,  se- 
cluded roads  of  Winnetka,  thirty  miles 
north  of  ABC's  {Continued  on  page  91) 


At  the  breakfast  table  Don  gets  his  briefing  from  the 
boys,  who   are  always   full   of   Breakfast   Club   ideas. 


L! 


(jMUL  (LH(L   VlAit 


don  Hdsiiu 

JIT  > 

|feMi,4>l  hiSr   Ami 

IbW~\  fll 

^^^^iiB*«a*i-i 

The  limestone  house  is  big;  il  had  to  be,  (or  it'- 
ii.nnHv    ni    foil    of    friends    n*    h    i*    of    family. 

"«  "m<  '""'•  «-"  *'*».ill  men  .  chance  to 

kill    two    birds:     tl„.v    Ml    and    ««,    u]k    noolll    ,if,. 


In  the  birch-paneled  den,  a  gin 


understand  just  how  rare  it  is. 

You  need  to  know  how  easily,  when 
fans  clamor  around,  you  can  puff  up 
your  ego  like  a  circus  balloon. 

You  need  to  feel  the  weariness  that 
comes  from  everlasting  demands  on 
your  time — demands  that  can  wring 
you  dry  by  the  end  of  the  day,  with  no 
energy  left  to  take  a  normal,  human 
interest  in  your  family  and  friends, 
demands  that  leave  you  but  a  single 
desire — to  sleep. 

YOU  need  to  share  the  tragedy  of  some 
of  the  show  business  divorces  by 
knowing,  over  the  years,  a  few  of  the 
nice  young  couples  who  battled  to- 
gether for  success,  but  when  it  came, 
split  apart  because  they  couldn't  save 
time  for  a  private  life. 

To  complete  the  picture,  you  should 
know  some  of  the  celebrities'  children. 

It's  toughest  on  them.  Some  turn  out  • 
awful  brats  who  have  learned  to  get 
their  share  of  attention  by  misbehaving. 
Then  there's  the  opposite  kind — the 
frustrated,  silent,  sulky  little  ones.  Both 
kinds  discover  early  that  when  either 
mummy  or  daddy  remains  a  spoiled 
child  and  never  bothers  to  grow  up,  the 
youngsters  get  only  a  taste  of  childhood. 

That  probably  furnishes  the  most  im- 


ts  kibitzed  by  the  boys  and  spaniel  Flag. 


portant  clue  to  what  makes  the  Mc- 
Neills tick. 

Both  Don  and  Kay  are  adults.  Men- 
tally and  emotionally,  they  have  grown 
up.  They  enjoy  being  parents.  They 
don't  compete  with  their  kids  for  a 
chance  to  be  children. 

You  in  the  radio  audience  sense  that 
just  as  keenly  as  their  boys  do. 

In  the  100,000  letters  and  cards  you 
write  Don  McNeill  each  year,  you  con- 
fide your  problems  and  share  your  joys. 
Few  of  you  send  mash  notes.  Instead, 
you  realize  he  is  a  good  friend  who 
has  lived  enough  to  understand  your 
worries  and  to  appreciate  the  wonder- 
ful little  things  that  happen  in  your  own 
families.  You're  pleased  when  he,  in 
turn,  passes  them  on  to  the  whole  big 
Breakfast  Club  audience,  all  over  the 
country. 

His  sons  have  the  same  attitude.  If 
an  Academy  of  Family  Arts  and 
Sciences  existed  to  award  "Oscars"  to 
successful  fathers,  Don  McNeill  would 
be  a  sure  winner. 

Most  vital  factor  in  that  success  is 
Don's  way  of  letting  his  boys  know 
they  are  important  to  him. 

If  you  traveled  over  the  winding,  se- 
cluded roads  of  Winnetka,  thirty  miles 
north  of  ABC's  (Continued  on  page  91) 


Don  Sr.  and  Jr.  have  a  hands-on*  agreement  with  Kay 
about  the  bay. window  gr ilion,,-  she  |iriics  so  highly. 


■ 

.._ 

■f 

• 

' 

1   ll 

I 

y 

■ 

1 

|  1  J|j 

■ 

j|  1  Mm 

~~  JE-»  .-f 

""5 

9^A 

atsH                                       ssTsTs 

1  laafefli                     m  isfjjfl 

Ll  si^Blllalalalalalaa         #  ^VWistss^fl                            1                 )tt 

At  the  breakfa-H  table  Don  geU  hi-  briefing  from  the 

boyti,   who   are   alway    full   of   Hreakfanl    Club    ideas. 

J 

33 

W&^ 


Eric  Scvarcid,  CBS 


/ 


^tatiw^ 


conventions,  described  bv  these  radio  newsmen 


Morgan  Bcatty,  NBC 


Bol,  Trout.  NBC 


Albert  Warner.  MBS 


William  L.  Shirer,  MBS 


Turn  past   for  more  convention   pictures 


*» 


^*Wlrfp\ 


conventions,  described  by  these  radio  newsmen 


Morgan  Realty.  Mid 


William  L.  Sliircr.  MBS 


Turn  pun*  for  man  eonrention  picture* 


Gabriel  Heatter,  MBS 


! 


H.  R.  Baukhage,  ABC 


136 


Henry  J.  Taylor,  MBS 


THIS  year  millions  of  Americans  will  have  ring- 
side  seats  at   two   of  the   greatest   shows   our 

democracy  affords.  In  addition  to  the  radio 
broadcasts  that  will  make  play-by-play  news  avail- 
able to  everyone,  both  the  Republican  and-  Demo- 
cratic  conventions  will  be   extensively   televised. 

Whether  you  are  listening  at  home  or  watching 
one  of  the  screens  now  installed  in  so  many  public 
places,  it  will  be  well  to  know  how  to  interpret 
what  you  will  see  and  hear. 

There  will  be  color,  fun,  .excitement  and  a  cer- 
tain circus  atmosphere,  but  behind  the  carnival, 
democracy  will  be  soberly  at  work. 

These  conventions  will  chart  the  path  our  nation 
will  take  in  the  next  four  years,  and  the  delegates 
know  it.  Beneath  the  froth,  fun  and  fury  will  be 
the  serious  will  of  a  free  people  freely  choosing 
candidates  for  the  presidency. 

More  later  about  how  to  evaluate  the  side  shows 
that  will  be  staged  either  as  political  expedients 
or  in  the  American  spirit  of  fun.   First,  something 


You'll  turn  a  sharper  ear  to  your  radio, 

read  Quincy  Howe's  behind-the-scenes  stories  of  past  conventions 


Walter  Kiernan,  ABC 


about  what  to  expect  as  you  listen  to  the  broao 
casts  from  Philadelphia  when  the  Republican  con- 
vention starts  on  June  21,  and  the  Democrats  get 
under  way  on  July  12. 

Both  conventions  will  follow  the  same  pat- 
tern. 

A  day  or  so  before,  the  official  opening,  party 
delegates  from  all  over  the  country  will  have 
packed  the  hotels.  Some  delegates  will  have 
positive  instructions.  For  instance,  the  New  York 
Republicans  will  be  committed  to  back  Governor 
Dewey  against  all  comers,  and  the  Missouri  Demo- 
crats will  be  solidly  behind  President  Truman. 
The  managers  of  each  candidate  will  have  tried  to 
get  as  many  advance  commitments  as  possible,  but, 
since  some  states  will  not  have  announced  definite 
allegiances,  the  hotels  will  see  plenty  of  high  pres- 
sure campaigning.  Of  course,  the  opening  days 
will  be  blistering  hot.  Political  conventions  and 
heat  waves  seem  to  go  together. 

The  delegates  and  their  {Continued  on  page  79) 


John  MacVane,  NBC 


37 


ID 


136 


ffinrt^-J&s    t^m^&n^ 


this  election  year,  after  you've 


^>y^ 


You'll  turn  a  sharper  ear  to  your  radio, 

read  Quincy  Howe's  behind-the-scenes  stories  of  past  conventions 


H.  R.  Baukhage,  ABC 


THIS  year  millions  of  Americans  will  have  ring- 
side seats  at  two  of  the   greatest  shows  our 

democracy  affords.  In  addition  to  the  radio 
broadcasts  that  will  make  play-by-play  news  avail- 
able to  everyone,  both  the  Republican  and-  Demo- 
cratic conventions  will  be  extensively  televised. 

Whether  you  are  listening  at  home  or  watching 
one  of  the  screens  now  installed  in  so  many  public 
places,  it  will  be  well  to  know  how  to  interpret 
what  you  will  see  and  hear. 

There  will  be  color,  fun,  .excitement  and  a  cer- 
,  tain  circus  atmosphere,  but  behind  the  carnival, 
democracy  will  be  soberly  at  work. 

These  conventions  will  chart  the  path  our  nation 
will  take  in  the  next  four  years,  and  the  delegates 
know  it.  Beneath  the  froth,  fun  and  fury  will  be 
the  serious  will  of  a  free  people  freely  choosing 
candidates  for  the  presidency. 

More  later  about  how  to  evaluate  the  side  shows 
that  will  be  staged  either  as  political  expedients 
or  in  the  American  spirit  of  fun.  First,  something 


Walter  Kiernan,  ABC 


about  what  to  expect  as  you  listen  to  the  broaa 
casts  from  Philadelphia  when  the  Republican  con- 
vention starts  on  June  21,  and  the  Democrats  get 
under  way  on  July  12. 

Both  conventions  will  follow  the  same  pat- 
tern. 

A  day  or  so  before,  the  official  opening,  party 
delegates  from  all  over  the  country  will  have 
packed  the  hotels.  Some  delegates  will  have 
positive  instructions.  For  instance,  the  New  York 
Republicans  will  be  committed  to  back  Governor 
Dewey  against  all  comers,  and  the  Missouri  Demo- 
crats will  be  solidly  behind  President  Truman. 
The  managers' of  each  candidate  will  have  tried  to 
get  as  many  advance  commitments  as  possible,  but, 
since  some  states  will  not  have  announced  definite 
allegiances,  the  hotels  will  see  plenty  of  high  pres- 
sure campaigning.  Of  course,  the  opening  days 
will  be  blistering  hot  Political  conventions  and 
neat  waves  seem  to  go  together. 

The  delegates  and  their  (Continued  on  page  79) 


Quincy  Howe,  CBS 


John  MacVane,  NBC 


By 

WILLIAM 

TUSHEI! 


Behind  the  dignified  entrance  to  the  Cost'ello  Youth  Foundation,  hundreds  of  kids  learn  how  to  have  all  kinds  of 
fun — often,  as  in  the  checker  game,  under  the  expert  tutelage  of  President  Lou  Costello  and  Secretary  Bud  Abhott. 


IS  Lou  Costello  on  the  level? 
Is  his  concern  for  the  welfare  of  youth  a  headline - 
grabbing  sham?    Is  the  Lou  Costello  Junior  Youth 
Foundation,  created  as  a  monument  to  his  son,  a  fraud? 

Ugly  rumors  are  heard:  It's  a  cheap  publicity  stunt 
.  .  .  It's  just  an  act  .  .  .  The  radio  comedian  has  been 
branded  by  a  newspaper  columnist  as  "a  self-advertised 
friend  of  kids." 

Since  the  questions  have  been  raised,  they  should  be 
examined,  and  answered. 

If  these  attacks  have  any  basis  in  fact,  10,280  enrolled 
members  of  the  Foundation  have  been  sold  out,  and 
many  of  the  most  august  pillars  of  the  Los  Angeles 
community  have  been  duped  in  a  fabulous  swindle.  So 
let's  take  a  look  at  the  facts: 

The  Foundation  has  been  in  existence  for  two  years. 


Is  Lou's  Foundation  run  from  the 

heart  ...  or  for  the  publicity?    The  answer 

is  in  the  facts,  and  here  they  are 


In  the  Foundation's  fully-equipped  clinic,  Nurse  Gon- 
zales and  Dr.  Kovner  keep  everyone  in  top  condition. 


Any  time  Bud  and  Lou  can  spare  is  spent  looking 
over  shoulders  in  the  ever-humming  Hobby  Shop. 


For  the  smallest  people,  there's  a  playground  within 
the    larger    playground,    a    haven    for    the    pint-sized. 


From  an  opening  enrollment  of  2,000,  its  membership 
has  swelled  to  10,280  youngsters  from  the  ages  of  six 
to  nineteen,  with  5,000  additional  members  anticipated 
in  the  forthcoming  few  months.  There  are  no  dues,  and 
no  conditions  of  membership. 

Two  thousand  children  were  taught  to  swim  last 
summer  at  the  Foundation's  modern  swimming  pool, 
equipped  with  underwater  lights  for  night  use,  regula- 
tion diving  boards,  lounge  chairs,  tables,  brilliantly  col- 
ored umbrellas,  and  lockers  for  boys  and  girls. 

Foundation  facilities  include,  in  addition,  a  softball 
diamond  with  bleachers,  a  140  by  100  foot  skating  rink 
for  which  skates  are  furnished  free,  basketball  courts, 
a  football  gridiron,  badminton  courts,  tennis  courts,  ping 
pong  tables,  an  outdoor  barbecue,  an  arts  and  crafts 
room,  clubrooms,  workshops,  classrooms,  a  medical  clinic 


and  a   dental   clinic.    Both   clinics   are   fully    equipped. 

Sand  boxes,  a  wading  pool,  teeter-totters,  a  miniature 
merry-go-round,  slides,  a  large  room  for  drawing  and 
games,  a  children's  library,  and  a  record  player  and 
radio  are  among  the  features  of  The  Little  People's 
Department,  an  enclosed  wonderland  for  tots  from  six 
to  eight. 

These  are  available  to  the  public  seven  days  a  week, 
from  10  A.M.  until  10:15  P.M.,  under  the  pleasant,  un- 
obtrusive supervision  of  a  paid  staff  of  college-trained 
social  and  playground  workers. 

Dentists  and  doctors  are  on  call  free  of  charge  for 
needy  youngsters.  Children  suffering  malnutrition  get 
free  vitamins.  Food  is  distributed  at  a  foundation  snack 
bar  that  boasts  a  complete  soda  fountain. 

"Costello  is  worshipped  by    {Continued  on  page   74) 


39 


\bbott  and  Costello  are  heard  on  ABC,  Wednesday  at  9:00  P.M..  Saturday  at  11:00    V.M..   EOT. 


6¥Z 


Behind  the  dignified  entrance  to  the  Costello  Youth  Foundation,  hundreds  of  kids  learn 
fun — often,  as  in  the  checker  game,  under  the  expert  tutelage  of  President  Lou  Costello  i 


to  have  all  kinds  of 
d  Secretary  Bud  Abbott. 


IS  Lou  Costello  on  the  level? 
Is  his  concern  for  the  welfare  of  youth  a  headline- 
grabbing  sham?  Is  the  Lou  Costello  Junior  Youth 
Foundation,  created  as  a  monument  to  his  son,  a  fraud? 
Ugly  rumors  are  heard:  It's  a  cheap  publicity  stunt 
.  .  .  It's  just  an  act  .  .  .  The  radio  comedian  has  been 
branded  by  a  newspaper  columnist  as  "a  self-advertised 
friend  of  kids." 

Since  the  questions  have  been  raised,  they  should  be 
examined,  and  answered. 

If  these  attacks  have  any  basis  in  fact,  10,280  enrolled 
members  of  the  Foundation  have  been  sold  out,  and 
many  of  the  most  august  pillars  of  the  Los  Angeles 
community  have  been  duped  in  a  fabulous  swindle.  So 
let's  take  a  look  at  the  facts: 
The  Foundation  has  been  in  existence  for  two  years. 


Is  Lou's  Foundation  run  from  the 

heart  ...  or  for  the  publicity?    The  answer 

is  in  the  facts,  and  here  they  are 


In  the  Foundation's  fully-equipped  clinic,  Nurse  Gon- 
zales and  Dr.  Kovner  keep  everyone  in  top  condition. 


From  an  opening  enrollment  of  2,000,  its  membership 
has  swelled  to  10,280  youngsters  from  the  ages  of-  six 
to  nineteen,  with  5,000  additional  members  anticipated 
in  the  forthcoming  few  months.  There  are  no  dues,  and 
no  conditions  of  membership. 

Two  thousand  children  were  taught  to  swim  last 
summer  at  the  Foundation's  modern  swimming  pool, 
equipped  with  underwater  lights  for  night  use,  regula- 
tion diving  boards,  lounge  chairs,  tables,  brilliantly  col- 
ored umbrellas,  and  lockers  for  boys  and  girls. 

Foundation  facilities  include,  in  addition,  a  Softball 
diamond  with  bleachers,  a  140  by  100  foot  skating  rink 
for  which  skates  are  furnished  free,  basketball  courts, 
a  football  gridiron,  badminton  courts,  tennis  courts,  ping 
pong  tables,  an  outdoor  barbecue,  an  arts  and  crafts 
room,  clubrooms,  workshops,  classrooms,  a  medical  clinic 


Any  time  Bud  and  Lou  can  spare  is  spent  looking 
over  shoulders  in  the  ever-humming  Hobby  Shop. 


For  the  smallest  people,  there's 
the   larger   playground,   a    have 


t  playground  within 
for   the   pint-sized. 


and  a  dental  clinic.    Both  clinics  are  fully  equipped. 

Sand  boxes,  a  wading  pool,  teeter-totters,  a  miniature 
merry-go-round,  slides,  a  large  room  for  drawing  and 
games,  a  children's  library,  and  a  record  player  and 
radio  are  among  the  features  of  The  Little  People's 
Department,  an  enclosed  wonderland  for  tots  from  six 
to  eight. 

These  are  available  to  the  public  seven  days  a  week, 
from  10  A.M.  until  10:15  P.M.,  under  the  pleasant,  un- 
obtrusive supervision  of  a  paid  staff  of  college-trained 
social  and  playground  workers. 

Dentists  and  doctors  are  on  call  free  of  charge  for 
needy  youngsters.  Children  suffering  malnutrition  get 
free  vitamins.  Food  is  distributed  at  a  foundation  snack 
bar  that  boasts  a  complete  soda  fountain. 

"Costello  is  worshipped  by   (Continued  on  page  74) 


Abbott  and  Coatello  i 


>  heard  on  ABC.  Wednesday  at  9:00  P.M..  Saturday 


Oat  of  sight  of  the  panel,  Ruby  Sheppard  lets  the 
studio   audience   in  on  the  words  to  be  guessed. 


fflHE  Vanderventers  of  Princeton, 
J_  New  Jersey,  are  one  of  the  most  pop- 
ular families  in  America.  Every  Sat- 
urday night  they  play  an  old  fashioned 
parlor  game  called  Twenty  Questions, 
but  unlike  other  families,  they  don't 
gather  in  their  living  room  with  a  few 
friends.  Instead,  they  seat  themselves 
comfortably  in  front  of  Mutual  Network 
microphones  where  they  proceed  to 
amuse  and  often  astound  millions  of 
American  and  Canadian  listeners.  Their 
skill  at  identifying  the  difficult  "animal, 
vegetable  or  mineral"  subjects  has 
prompted  Walter  Winchell  to  dub  them 
"Masters  of  Quizzardry." 

The  whole  idea  for  the  program  orig- 
inated with  the  Vanderventer's  daugh- 
ter, Nancy.  One  night  they  were  enter- 


The  Mystery  Voice  (Jack  Irish)  keeps  the  radio  lis- 
teners up  to  the  minute  on  the  panel's  guesswork. 


When  Cuy  Kibbee 
was  guest,  guesses 
were  wild.  Twenty 
Questions  is  heard 
Saturday  nights  at 
8,  on  MBS  stations. 


The  commercials  on  Twenty  Questions  are  spirit- 
edly read  by  Charlotte  Maneon,  Frank  Waldecker. 


ie  Vanderventers  »aj  a  friendly 


taining  a  dinner  guest  who  was  dis- 
cussing his  idea  for  a  new  radio  quiz 
program  with  Nancy's  Dad,  Fred  Van- 
derventer,  one  of  radio's  top  news- 
casters. Mom,  now  known  to  listeners 
as  Florence  Rinard,  was  being  gracious 
and  polite  to  their  visitor.  Nancy's 
brother,  Bobby,  was  concentrating  on 
his  tomato  soup.  But  Nancy,  whose 
mind  often  seems  jet  propelled  and  who 
is  equally  quick  to  voice  her  opinions, 
told  their  guest  that  she  thought  his 
idea  was  very  stale.* 

"If  I  were  planning  a  quiz  program, 
I'd  like  something  different.  Maybe  I'd 
try  something  along  the  lines  of  the 
game  Twenty  Questions,"  she  informed 
him  authoritatively. 

After   her    (Continued    on    page  95) 


Gary    Stevens,    producer, 
and    quizmaster    Bill    Sla- 
ter   make    things    harder. 

^j 

. 

P" 

w^ 

r 

• 

i 

i 
i 

>*        M       m*     m." 

7 

T^l 

^5^^, 

— i      Tim 

*■- 

— 

■- 

' 

■Bhmm^ 


OM  ol  .l(ht  of  A.  i*>d,  Hnby  Sbeppwo  ku  ike 
MaJi>  «•<««»«  In   on   lb.  "•"••  >•  •»  Me"*1- 


fflHE  Vanderventers  of  Princeton, 
I  New  Jersey,  are  one  of  the  most  pop. 

ular  families  in  America.  Every  Sat- 
urday night  they  play  an  old  fashioned 
parlor  game  called  Twenty  Questions, 
but  unlike  other  families,  they  don't 
gather  in  their  living  room  with  a  few 
friends.  Instead,  they  seat  themselves 
comfortably  in  front  of  Mutual  Network 
microphones  where  they  proceed  to 
amuse  and  often  astound  millions  of 
American  and  Canadian  listeners.  Their 
skill  at  identifying  the  difficult  "animal, 
vegetable  or  mineral"  subjects  has 
prompted  Walter  Winchell  to  dub  them 
"Masters  of  Quizzardry." 

The  whole  idea  for  the  program  orig- 
inated with  the  Vanderventer's  daugh- 
ter, Nancy.  One  night  they  were  enter- 


taining a  dinner  guest  who  was  dis- 
cussing his  idea  for  a  new  radio  quiz 
program  with  Nancy's  Dad,  Fred  Van- 
derventer,  one  of  radio's  top  news- 
casters. Mom,  now  known  to  listeners 
as  Florence  Rinard,  was  being  gracious 
and  polite  to  their  visitor.  Nancy's 
brother,  Bobby,  was  concentrating  on 
his  tomato  soup.  But  Nancy,  whose 
mind  often  seems  jet  propelled  and  who 
is  equally  quick  to  voice  her  opinions, 
told  their  guest  that  she  thought  his 
idea  was  very  stale.' 

'Tf  I  were  planning  a  quiz  program, 
I'd  like  something  different.  Maybe  I'd 
try  something  along  the  lines  of  the 
game  Twenty  Questions,"  she  informed 
him  authoritatively. 

After   her    (Continued    on   page  95) 


W  i..i.n=-..J     on  Twenty  QoetdMU  tre  •pirit< 
tdTj  rod  by  Charlotte  Mum,  Frank  Wildcckcr. 


.A 


*-*.W; 


When  HOLLY  SLOAN  came  to  New  York  City  from  Mait- 
land,  N.  Y.;  she  found  that  merely  leaving  her  home  town 
was  not  enough  to  make  her  a  self-reliant  "career  girl." 
Gradually,  her  city  experiences  have  made  her  more  mature: 
her  job,  for  instance,  as  secretary  to  Wilbur  Ramage,  brilliant 
producer  for  the  NYBC  radio  network:  her  meeting  with 
dynamic  young  Johnny  Starr,  and  the  attraction  that  blazed 
into  love.  And  most  of  all,  perhaps,  Holly's  character  has 
strengthened  through  her  own  determination  to  forge  a  place 
for  herself  as  a  radio  singer.  For  she  understands  how  small 
her  chances  are,  yet  she  continues  to  work  hard,  and  to  hope 
thai  luck  will  favor  her,  (Holly  Sloan  is  played  by  Gale  Page) 


When  Holly  was  eight,  her  mother  died,  and  AUNT 
KETURAH  came  to  keep  house  for  Holly  and  her  father, 
HENRY  SLOAN.  Through  the  years,  Keturah,  who  is  blind, 
has  been  mother,  counselor  and  friend  to  Holly.  When  the 
family'  came  to  New  York  so  that  Dad  Sloan  could  develop 
his  wood-working  business,  Keturah  was  at  first  oppressed  by 
the  noise  and  restlessness  of  city  life.  But  now  she  has 
LAURALEE  to  worry  about — little  Lauralee  McWilliams, 
crippled  and  embittered,  who  became  a  member  of  the 
household  when  her  mother  was  forced  to  go  to  a  hospital. 
(Henry  Sloan  is  played  by  Charles  Seel;  Keturah  is  played  by 
Georgia  Backus;    Lauralee  McWilliams  is  Marlene   Aames  I 


42 


HOLLY 


—  wnv  (etvwib  mat  a  via  all  teemb  fo  exaaae^a/e 


JOHNNY  STARR,  attractive,  charm- 
ing, almost  became  the  typical  "young 
man  about  Manhattan" — except  that 
he  had  too  much  intelligence  to  be 
forced  into  such  a  pattern.  Instead, 
he  has  worked  hard  enough  to  become, 
at  less  than  thirty,  a  vice-president  of 
NYBC.  He  has  successfully  escaped 
his  wealthy  mother's  apron  strings, 
and  is  ready  to  defy  her  over  his 
engagement  to  Holly  Sloan,  whom  the 
despotic  Mrs.  Starr  fears  and  hates. 
(Johnny  Starr  is  played  by  Bob  Bailey) 


HOLLY 

SLOAN 


CLAY  BROWN  is  from  Maitland, 
too — in  fact,  it  was  in  search  of 
Holly  that  he  first  came  to  New 
York.  He  found  a  friend  in  warm- 
hearted SALLY  BROWN,  who  is 
no  relation,  but  who  helped  when 
he  was  in  trouble.  But  Clay  is  so 
much  in  love  with  Holly  that  he  is 
blind  to  everything  else — blind  to 
Sally's  love  for  him,  and  also  to 
the  fact  of  Holly's  love  for  Johnny 
Starr.  (Clay  is  played  by  Vic 
Perrin;    Sally   is    Louise    Arthur) 


MILLICENT  STARR's  world  is  com- 
posed of  her  wealth,  her  position  .  .  . 
and  Johnny.  She  has  never  understood 
why  Johnny  prefers  to  maintain  his  own 
New  York  apartment  rather  than  live 
more  luxuriously  with  her  on  Long 
Island,  and  she  so  despises  Holly  that 
she  will  go  to  any  length  to  prevent 
this  "country  girl"  from  "trapping" 
Johnny  into  marriage.  She  uses  a 
heart  condition  to  k«ep  Johnny  by 
her  side,  and  away  from  Holly  Sloan. 
(Millicent  is  played  by  B.  J.  Thompson) 


WILBUR  RAMAGE,  production  manager  of 
NYBC,  is  one  of  President  PRENTISS  JEF- 
FRIES' most  brilliant  aides.  Wilbur  can  certainly 
help  advance  his  secretary  Holly's  radio  career — - 
if  he  doesn't  complicate  things  by  falling  in  love 
with  her.  (Wilbur  Ramage,  at  left,  is  Bob  Grif- 
fin:   Prentiss   Jeffries   is   played    by   Joe    Forte) 


ADELE  KINGMAN  is  a  successful  career  girl.  As 
Talent  Director  for  NYBC,  she  has  the  respect  of  her 
co-workers,  the  favorable  eye  of  President  Prentiss 
Jeffries,  and  had — until  Holly  Sloan  arrived — the 
particular  attention  of  Johnny  Starr.  Adele  loves 
Johnny,  but  she  fought  to  overcome  her  resent- 
ment of  Holly.     (Adele  is  played  by  Helene  Burke) 


45 


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mu,     .1— .■     M.r»i«l.«        «■«•«•«     *•• 

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n^rw.1  U>  Moll,   SUM.  -W«  1W 

j_mh    «-    Sun   !'«•  "-I  •"'«■• 
fj»b..l .......  fLi-lkrWi 


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'-       n.|,.,^- 

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<  I  \i  HROWN  i.  from  M.ilLn.l 
ti->  in  fi.t.  it  w«»  in  »earrb  "I 
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York  Hr  f.iun.l  t  friend  in  wirni 
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iaka«T.     km     •)»     l—.k)     ..    «m 


BOY  WITH  BIKE 

Radio    Mirror's    Prize    Poem 

I   think  he  has  a   bicycle  up  there, 

Just  like  the  one  he  loved  so  much  on  earth. 

I'm    sure   the    angels,    as   they  stitched    and 

pinned 
And    matched    new    feathers,    noticing    the 

mirth 
That     lingered     roguishly     in     those     bright 

eyes, 
(As    if    they    still    saw    kites    and    tops    and 

things 
Like   that)    decided  then    and   there 
A  boy  would  much   prefer  a  bike  to  wings! 

And   so    I    picture  those  small,  tireless  feet, 
Still  in  the  same  scuffed  shoes  he  wore  down 

here, 
As   pedaling   up  a   gentle,   blue-hazed  slope 
Then    coasting    slowly,     (For    the    Throne    is 

near). 
And   oh,    I    know   all    Heaven    understands 
And  smiles  to  hear  him  shout,  "Look,  God! 

No   hands!" 

— Billie    Marie    Crabb 


SANS  STRINGS 

I  lend  flour  to  the  lady  next  door 

Or  salt  or  butter  or  bread, 

I  don't  get  them  back  from  the  lady  next  door 

(Sometimes  I  borrow  instead.) 

I  lend  books  to  the  man" down  the  way. 
He  must  have  a  dozen  or  more; 


And  dollars  to  people  who'll  never  repay — 
Like  the  lad  in  the  novelty  store. 

I  lend  paper  and  dresses  and  soap 
And  socks  to  the  girl  'cross  the  hall. 
I  let  them  go  with  never  a  hope — 
Not   that  it  matters  at  all. 

Then  one  day  I  offered  my  heart — as  a  gift- 
To  a  stranger  who  just  happened  by, 
And  he  laughed  as  he  took  it — and  dropped 

it — and   broke   it 
And    returned    it — with   scarcely   a   sigh. 

— -Minna  Adams 


TO  ONE  WAYFARING 

If  you  should  reach  your  star 

And  bring  it  down 
To  set  resplendent  in 

Your  chosen  crown, 

0,  I  would  join  my  voice 
To  aH  high  praise 

And  show  my  love  for  you 

In  quiet  ways 
Within  the  radiance  of 

Your  strength  and  power, 

1,  too,  would  know  a  little 
shining  hour. 

But  should  you  fail,  my  love, 

O,  should  you  fail. 
Returning  without  star 

Or  holy  grail. 
Then  might  my  love  in  splendor 

Show  itself. 
Spread  like  a  wing  upon 

The  heart's  wide  shelf, 
Healing  your  wounds  of  pride. 

Of  dork  defeat. 
Until,  in  wonderment. 

You  found  them  sweet. 

—Gladys  McKee 


THE  DIFFERENCE 

Whether    you    like    or    dislike    a 

plan, 
Such  as  "Sharing  the  Wealth"  is. 
Depends  on  whether  the  wealth 

to   be   shared, 
Is  yours  or  somebody  else's. 
— W.  H.  Nusbaum 


TWO  MEN 

One  man  will  shout  his  creed  from  a 
street  corner 

Where  crowds  rush  by,  and  yet  re- 
main unheard; 

While  one  in  silence  lifts  the  stone  of 
Time, 

And    hews    upon    it    one    immortal 
word. 

— Rosa  Zagnoni  Marinoni 


*     *         * 


Browse  a  bit  among  these  verses,  for  one  of  them 


BOBTAILED  TUNES 

My   heart   is   light   with   singing 
Skylarking,  bobtailed  tunes 
With  no  more  rhyme  nor  reason 
Than  fluted  pantaloons. 

I've  soup  to  eat  for  supper 
All  filled  with  luscious  stuff  .  .  . 
And  butternuts  are  in  my  cake, 
But  that  is  not  enough 

To  cause  this  tumbling  music 
My  heart  can  not  define. 
I  wonder  dear,  if  it  could  be 
The  way  your  eyes  meet  mine? 
— Helen  Mitchel 


COMFORT 

You  come  with  reassurance  for 

my  grief, 
And  teach  me  why  I  have  no 

cause  to  mourn. 
Never  a  bough,  you   say,   but 

came  to  leaf 
After    the    weight    of    winter 

had  been  borne; 
Never  a  midnight  yet  but  came 

to  dawn, 
And  no  dark  dream  that  crept 

on  heavy  feet 
But   vanished   lightly   after 

sleep  was  gone. 
All  this  I  know.   And  laughter 

still  is  sweet. 

But  if  you  cancel  every  grief 

with  cheer, 
What  of  this   little  hollow  in 

my  heart, 
Shaped  to  a  memory,  desolate 

and  dear, 
And    for    my   secret   teardrops 

set  apart? 
Your  calm  philosophy  can 

hardly  see 
How  much  my  tender  sorrow 

comforts  me. 

— Silence  Buck  Bellows 


POPULAR  POET 

I  find  her  verses  quite  appealing; 
They    leave    me    with    a    tickly 

feeling; 
And  yet,  despite   the  cash  they 

net  her, 
I  always  think  my  own  are 

better. 
Though  fame  and  fortune  come 

to  woo  her. 
And  editors  en  masse  pursue  her, 
I   dare,   though  ethics   would 

forbid  it, 
At  times,  to  wonder  how  she  did 

it. 
But  if  contrarily  I  question 
Her  methods   (What  a  foul 

suggestion!) 
Or  if  perchance  I'm  over-zealous. 
My  conscience  screams  that  I  am 

jealous. 
The  fact  she's  sometimes 

mediocre, 
Though    insufficient    to    provoke 

her. 
Reminds  me  -that  I  Tnust  be 

gallant 
And  not  reveal  my  hidden  talent. 
— Faye  Chilcote  Walker 


By  TED  MALONE 

Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  morning  program, 
Monday  through  Friday 
at    11:45    EDT,   over   ABC. 


THE  SKY  REMEMBERS 

Woods  listen  still  to  birdsong 
When  all  birds  have  flown: 

The  sky  remembers  rainbows 
It  has  known. 

—Mary  Carolyn  Davies 


will  surely  put  words  to  your  mood  of  the  moment 


MJJHffHHl 


RADIO  MIRROR  will  pay  fifty  dollars 

for  the  original  poem,  sent  in  by  a  reader,  selected  by  Ted  Malone 
as  the  best  of  that  month's  poems  submitted  by  readers.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  submitted  and  printed 
on  the  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Address  your 
poetry  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Poetry  submitted  should  be  limited  to  thirty  lines. 
When  postage  is  enclosed  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  un- 
used manuscripts.  This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase 
poetry  for  Radio  Mirror's  Between  the  Bookends. 


******  *    *  ^ 


Each  Sunday  night,  Dick 

finds  his  heart  in  his  throat — - 

but  his  fingers  go  right 

on  playing  that  winning  accordion 


BECK  COJVTIJVO 


I  CAN  hardly  believe  all  the  wonderful 
things  that  have  happened  to  me  in  the 
last  six  months.  But  there  are  a  few  mil- 
lion witnesses  from  coast  to  coast  who  have 
heard  it  as  it  happened.  And,  maybe  if  I 
tell  my  story,  other  boys  and  girls  who  have 
dreams  like  mine  will  be  encouraged  to  have 
faith  in  themselves  and  keep  trying. 

A  year  ago  I  graduated  from  Fresno  High 
School  at  seventeen  and  entered  Fresno  State 
College.  I  majored  in  music  because  that 
was  the  only  thing  in  the  world  I  cared  about. 
After  two  weeks  at  college  I  grew  restless. 
Just  having  music  in  the  classroom  wasn't 
enough  for  me.  I  had  to  get  out  and  make 
music. 

I  talked  the  matter  over  with  my  parents, 
and  because  they  understood  me  completely, 
they  agreed  that  I  couldn't  be  happy  unless  I 
was  playing  my  accordion. 

So,  with  their  approval,  I  went  over  to  the 
Fresno  Musicians  Union  to  see  about  out- 
of-town  bookings.  I  had  joined  the  Fresno 
Musicians  Union  two  years  previously,  and 
all  the  men  had  been  especially  kind  to  me 
because  I  was  their  youngest  member  when 
I  started  at  the  age  of  fifteen. 

That  night  there  were  no  spectacular  sky- 
rockets fighting  the  Fresno  skies,  but  there 
might  just  as  well  have  been  for  me.    Be- 


Night   with  Horace  Heidt,  on  which  Dick  Contino  may  be 


'I've  made  some  wonderful  friends  in  all  the  places  we've,  stopped." 


cause  it  was  the  evening  I  bumped  into  one 
of  Horace  Heidt's  scouts  who  was  looking 
for  performers  to  compete  in  the  Horace 
Heidt  National  Talent  Contest  radio  program. 

He  explained  to  me  that  Mr.  Heidt  was 
starting  on  a  cross-country  tour,  looking  for 
talented  boys  and  girls  in  some  of  the  smaller 
as  well  as  larger  towns  all  over  the  United 
States.  Every  week  the  Heidt  scouts  would 
gather  up  all  prospective  contestants  in  these 
towns  and  audition  them  carefully.  The  field 
would  then  be  narrowed  down  to  four  or  five 
acts  which  would  appear  on  the  Sunday  night 
program  over  NBC.  The  winner  of  each 
week's  contest  would  be  carried  over  to  com- 
pete against  new  rivals  in  a  new  town  on  the 
following  week. 

Thus  one  individual  could  continue  to  com- 
pete as  long  as  he  continued  to  win. 

The  weekly  prize  was  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars;  the  quarter-finals  award  was 
seven  hundred  and  fifty,  in  addition  to  the 
chance  of  becoming  a  regular  member  of  Mr. 
Heidt's  troupe. 

That  same  evening  I  was  auditioned.  After 
waiting  around  for  a  bewildering  half-hour 
with  my  fingers  turning  from  water  to  ice,  I 
found  myself  standing  in  the  middle  of  a  bare 
stage,  playing  "Lady  of  Spain"  with  a  kind  of 
earnest  desperation.  (Continued  on  page  88) 

heard,  is  a  Sunday  night  feature  on  NBC,  at  10:30  P.M.  EOT. 


"Mom  and  Dad  came 
all  the  way  from 
Fresno  to  New  York 
for  the  quarter- 
finals. I  knew  I  had 
to    win,   for   them!" 


I 


"When  I  started  out 
with  the  show,  Hor- 
ace Heidt  told  my 
folks  I'd  be  well 
taken  care  of.  Those 
weren't  just  words." 


49 


. 


J 


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>))/i    till/'))' 


flrl  II 


>m  ft 


Each  Sunday  night,  Dick 

finds  his  heart  in  his  throat — 

but  his  fingers  go  right 

on  playing  that  winning  accordion 

By 
DICK  COJVTHjVfl) 


I  CAN   hardly    believe   all   the   wonderful 
things  that  have  happened  to  me  in  the 

last  six  months.  But  there  are  a  few  mil- 
lion witnesses  from  coast  to  coast  who  have 
heard  it  as  it  happened.  And,  maybe  if  I 
tell  my  story,  other  boys  and  girls  who  have 
dreams  like  mine  will  be  encouraged  to  have 
faith  in  themselves  and  keep  trying. 

A  year  ago  I  graduated  from  Fresno  High 
School  at  seventeen  and  entered  Fresno  State 
College.  I  majored  in  music  because  that 
was  the  only  thing  in  the  world  I  cared  about 
After  two  weeks  at  college  I  grew  restless. 
Just  having  music  in  the  classroom  wasn't 
enough  for  me.  I  had  to  get  out  and  make 
music. 

I  talked  the  matter  over  with  my  parents, 
and  because  they  understood  me  completely, 
they  agreed  that  I  couldn't  be  happy  unless  I 
was  playing  my  accordion. 

So,  with  their  approval,  I  went  over  to  the 
Fresno  Musicians  Union  to  see  about  out- 
of-town  bookings.  I  had  joined  the  Fresno 
Musicians  Union  two  years  previously,  and 
all  the  men  had  been  especially  kind  to  me 
because  I  was  their  youngest  member  when 
I  started  at  the  age  of  fifteen. 

That  night  there  were  no  spectacular  sky- 
rockets lighting  the  Fresno  skies,  but  there 
might  just  as  well  have  been  for  me.    Be- 

-Ith    Honor    Hrtdl,    on    which    Die*    Contino   -ft*! 


'I've  made  tomt   wonderful   friends   in   all   the   places   we've   itopped." 


cause  it  was  the  evening  I  bumped  into  one 
of  Horace  Heidt's  scouts  who  was  looking 
for  performers  to  compete  in  the  Horace 
Heidt  National  Talent  Contest  radio  program. 

He  explained  to  me  that  Mr.  Heidt  was 
starting  on  a  cross-country  tour,  looking  for 
talented  boys  and  girls  in  some  of  the  smaller 
as  well  as  larger  towns  all  over  the  United 
States.  Every  week  the  Heidt  scouts  would 
gather  up  all  prospective  contestants  in  these 
towns  and  audition  them  carefully.  The  field 
would  then  be  narrowed  down  to  four  or  five 
acts  which  would  appear  on  the  Sunday  night 
program  over  NBC.  The  winner  of  each 
week's  contest  would  be  carried  over  to  com- 
pete against  new  rivals  in  a  new  town  on  the 
following  week. 

Thus  one  individual  could  continue  to  com- 
pete as  long  as  he  continued  to  win. 

The  weekly  prize  was  two  hundred  and 
fifty  dollars;  the  quarter-finals  award  was 
seven  hundred  and  fifty,  in  addition  to  the 
chance  of  becoming  a  regular  member  of  Mr. 
Heidt's  troupe. 

That  same  evening  I  was  auditioned.  After 
waiting  around  for  a  bewildering  half-hour 
with  my  fingers  turning  from  water  to  ice,  I 
found  myself  standing  in  the  middle  of  a  bare 
stage,  playing  "Lady  of  Spain"  with  a  kind  of 
earnest  desperation.  (Continued  on  page  88) 

«*.!••  ShmUt  niahi  fM|Ur*ofi  NBC  at  l#»J»  P.M.  BUT. 


"Mom  and  Dad  ram* 
all  the  way  from 
Freano  to  Ne*  Vorl 
for  the  quarter- 
final*.  I  knew  I 
to    win,    for    them!" 


"Whni  I  iiarted  out 
with  the  ih.»w,  llor 
IfBj  llri.tl  told  "'■ 
folk.  I'd  he  welt 
taken  rare  ol.   Thoaa 

wrrrrt'i  ju»t  mrsW 


THE  MADE-FOR-EACH-OTHER 


£  a^t/ 


Not  till  they  cut  the  cake  did  Don  believe 
Norma  was  marrying  him,  not  his  brother.  Be- 
low, Norma  with  her  father,  who  gave  her  away. 


Ski  clothes  for  their  honeymoon:  an  extra  gift  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Don  Wi 


By 
JOHN 

NELSON 

This  story  is  told  for  Ra- 
dio Mirror  by  the  m.c.  of 
Bride  and  Groom,  heard 
daily  at  2:30  EDT,  ABC. 


MOST  important  of  all,  let's  try  to  keep  it  always  the 
love  story  of  the  boy  and  girl  next  door."  That 
was  how  John  Masterson  summed  up  the  basic 
idea  of  the  Bride  and  Groom  broadcasts,  when  he  orig- 
inated the  program  more  than  three  years  ago.  Instead 
of  a  dreamed-up  "tinsel  and  glamor"  affair,  the  story  of 
each  day's  couple  was  to  be  a  true  romance  that  had 
really  happened  to  the  kind  of  people  we  all  know  in  our 
everyday  life. 

Not  that  this  has  meant  ruling  out  excitement  or 
drama.  Just  the  opposite.  Even  the  world's  best  writer 
of  melodrama  couldn't  dream  up  plots  more  unusual,  or 
exciting,  or  even  hilarious,  than  the  things  that  happened 
in  the  real-life  romances  of  these  couples. 

For  example,  the  couple  who  first  met  when  the  boy 
placed  the  girl  under  arrest  (he  was  a  traffic  cop),  and 


The  young  sculptor  regarded  the  Rose  Queen 


Norma  and  Don  wanted  the  ski  clothes  for  the  Sun  Valley  honeymoon  that  was  an  important 
part  of  their  Bride  and  Groom  collection  of  wedding  presents.  Tuck,  one  of  Sun  Valley's 
hunting  dogs,  became  a  good  friend;  he  skis  as  well  as — or  better  than — many  of  the  customers. 


presented  by  John  Nelson. 


the  couple  whose  love  story  took  place  in  the  hush-hush 
atmosphere  of  the  atom-bomb  project — and  the  couples 
whose  proposals  had  the  various  settings  of  a  pawn- 
shop, a  locked  museum,  and  a  war-torn  European  city, 
with  one  proposal  even  being  made  over  a  trans- oceanic 
phone  when  the  boy  and  girlhad  no  idea  if  they  would 
ever  again  see  one  another. 

Yes,  those  of  us  who  have  listened  to  the  hundreds  of 
love  stories  of  the  "boy  and  girl  next  door"  know  that 
truth  really  is  stranger  than  fiction.  That's  why  unknown 
bridal  couples  have  so  greatly  out-numbered  the  head- 
line celebrities  on  Bride  and  Groom.  We've  had  front- 
page names,  yes — war  heroes,  motion  picture  people, 
writers,  and  artists — but  in  each  case  the  couple  was 
chosen  not  because  they  were  celebrities,  but  because 
theirs  was  an  outstanding  love  story. 


That  was  true  of  the  recent  appearance  of  just  about 
the  most  beautiful  bride  and  the  most  handsome  groom 
ever  to  appear  on  our  broadcasts — Norma  Christopher 
and  Donald  Winton,  of  Pasadena,  California.  We  weren't 
the  first  ones  to  be  aware  of  Norma's  unusual  beauty, 
either.  In  fact,  a  whole  city  beat  us  to  it. 

Norma  was  attending  the  Pasadena  City  College  when 
the  events  started  that  were  to  make  her  name  and  face 
so  well  known  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people 
everywhere.  Her  school  was  one  of  the  two  colleges 
from  which  candidates  were  chosen  for  the  royal  role 
of  Queen  for  the  famous  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses. 

A  total  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  candidates  were 
chosen  from  the  colleges — on  the  basis  of  beauty,  poise, 
and  scholastic  ability — and,  of  course,  the  beautiful 
Norma  was  included.   But  being  (Continued  on  page  78) 


with  suspicion.  She  was  too  busy  being  beautiful,  he  thought,  to  have  time  to  be  anything  else. 

51 


1 


THE  MADrMM-KMH-OTItEll 


Not  till  they  cut  the  cake  did  Don  believe 
Norma  WOH  marrying  hiin,  not  his  brother.  Be- 
Inw.  Norma  with  licr  father,  who  gave  her  away. 


Norma  and  Don  wanted  the  ski  clothes  for  the  Sun  Valley  honeymoon  that  WDi  an  important 
part  of  their  Bride  and  Groom  collection  of  wedding  presents.  Tuck,  one  of  Sun  Valb-yV 
a  good  friend;  he  skis  as  well  as — or  better  than— muny  of  the  customers. 


By 

JOIN 

NELSON 

■torj  la  told  for  Itu- 
>lio  Mirror  by  Hit-  m.c.  of 
Hriit<-  and  Groom,  hrard 
dully  ol  2:30  EDT.  ABC. 


Ski  clothes  for  the 


MOST  important  o£  all,  let's  try  to  keep  it  always  the 
love  story  ol  the  boy  and  girl  next  door."  That 
was  how  John  Masterson  summed  up  the  basic 
idea  of  the  Bride  and  Groom  broadcasts,  when  he  orig- 
inated the  program  more  than  three  years  ago.  Instead 
of  a  dreamed-up  "tinsel  and  glamor"  affair,  the  story  of 
each  day's  couple  was  to  be  a  true  romance  that  had 
really  happened  to  the  kind  of  people  we  all  know  in  our 
everyday  life. 

Not  that  this  has  meant  ruling  out  excitement  or 
drama.  Just  the  opposite.  Even  the  world's  best  writer 
of  melodrama  couldn't  dream  up  plots  more  unusual,  or 
exciting,  or  even  hilarious,  than  the  things  that  happened 
in  the  real-life  romances  of  these  couples. 

For  example,  the  couple  who  first  met  when  the  boy 
placed  the  girl  under  arrest  (he  was  a  traffic  cop),  and 


The  young  sculptor  regarded  the  Rose  QueH 


the  couple  whose  love  story  took  place  in  the  hush-hush 
atmosphere  of  the  atom-bomb  project — and  the  couples 
whose  proposals  had  the  various  settings  of  a  pawn- 
shop, a  locked  museum,  and  a  war-torn  European  city, 
with  one  proposal  even  being  made  over  a  trans-oceanic 
phone  when  the  boy  and  girl  had  no  idea  if  they  would 
ever  again  see  one  another. 

Yes,  those  of  us  who  have  listened  to  the  hundreds  of 
love  stories  of  the  "boy  and  girl  next  door"  know  that 
truth  really  is  stranger  than  fiction.  That's  why  unknown 
bridal  couples  have  so  greatly  out-numbered  the  head- 
line celebrities  on  Bride  and  Groom.  We've  had  front- 
page names,  yes — war  heroes,  motion  picture  people, 
writers,  and  artists — but  in  each  case  the  couple  was 
chosen  not  because  they  were  celebrities,  but  because 
theirs  was  an  outstanding  love  story. 


That  was  true  of  the  recent  appearance  of  just  about 
the  most  beautiful  bride  and  the  most  handsome  groom 
ever  to  appear  on  our  broadcasts — Norma  Christopher 
and  Donald  Winton,  of  Pasadena,  California.  We  weren't 
the  first  ones  to  be  aware  of  Norma's  unusual  beauty, 
either.  In  fact,  a  whole  city  beat  us  to  it. 

Norma  was  attending  the  Pasadena  City  College  when 
the  events  started  that  were  to  make  her  name  and  face 
so  well  known  to  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people 
everywhere.  Her  school  was  one  of  the  two  colleges 
from  which  candidates  were  chosen  for  the  royal  role 
of  Queen  for  the  famous  Pasadena  Tournament  of  Roses. 

A  total  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  candidates  were 
chosen  from  the  colleges — on  the  basis  of  beauty,  poise, 
and  scholastic  ability--and,  of  course,  the  beautiful 
Norma  was  included.  But  being  (Continued  on  page  78) 


with  suspicion.  She  was  too  busy  being  beautiful,  he  thought,  to  have  time  to  be  anything  else. 


MRS.  DIONE  LUCAS's  special  skill  has  made  her 
WCBS-TV  show,  To  the  Queen's  Taste,  one  of  the 
most  popular  on  television.  Well,  most  everyone  is 
interested  in  good  food,  and  Mrs.  Lucas  is  an  expert 
on  the  subject.  She  is  a  graduate  of  L'Ecole  du  Cordon 
Bleu  in  Paris — which  has  been  issuing  diplomas  in 
European  cookery  to  graduates  for  centuries.  She 
and  another  English  alumna  opened  a  London  replica 
of  L'Ecole  15  years  ago.  The  venture  was  approved 
by  the  Paris  director,  who  gave  them  permission  to 
bestow  the  "Cordon  Bleu"  on  graduates.  Mrs.  Lucas 
opened  her  New  York  restaurant-school  in  1942.  To 
date  she  has  taught  thousands  of  Americans  to  ap- 
preciate European  cooking.  Her  television  cooking 
lesson  (Thursdays,  8: 15  P.M.)  comes  from  her  "Cor- 
don Bleu"  kitchen  under  the  same  conditions  enjoyed 
by  pupils  of  her  school. 


DENNIS  JAMES  has 

built  up  an  enthusi- 
astic following  with 
his  Dumont  sports- 
casting.  He  injects  so 
much  humor  into  his 
television  sports  com- 
mentary that  many 
fans  consider  it  the 
most  important  part  of 
the  telecast.  He  snaps 
a  little  gadget,  when 
wrestlers  are  in  a  particularly  tight  hold,  that  sounds 
exactly  like  bones  cracking.  And  he  is  the  one  who 
discovered  and  spotlighted  "Hatpin  Mary" — that 
energetic  middle-aged  woman  who  had  a  ringside 
seat  at  every  wrestling  match,  and  if  she  "didn't  con- 
sider the  action  fast  enough  or  if  the  wrestlers  stayed 
in  a  locked  position  too  long,  would  scamper  up  to 
the  ropes  and  jab  the  top  man  with  a  long  hatpin. 


ADRIENNE:  Eighteen 
bachelors  of  Forest 
Hills,  Long  Island, 
have  formed  one  of 
the  very  first  fan  clubs 
in  television.  It  is  in 
honor  of  a  tall,  dark, 
beautiful  girl  with  a 
thrilling  voice.  Her 
name  is  Adrienne. 
Just  Adrienne.  She  is 
seen  and  heard  on  Du- 
mont's  Champagne 
and  Orchids. 

Each  week  Adrienne 
has  an  attractive  man- 
about-town  as  a  guest. 

She  use's  a  set  that  televises  like  a  corner  of  a  sump- 
tuous apartment.  She  is  always  exquisitely  gowned — 
all  this  plus  an  outstanding  voice  makes  her  program 
a  joy. 

Adrienne's  mother  is  the  famous  Margaret  Mat- 
zenauer,  one  of  the  greatest  mezzo-sopranos  ever  to 
sing  with  the  Metropolitan  Opera.  Her  father,  who 
died  several  years  ago,  was  Eduardo  Ferrari-Fon- 
tuna,  a  tenor  with  the  Metropolitan.  So,  logically, 
Adrienne  was  known  as  "The  baby  of  the  opera."  Her 
godfathers  were  Caruso  and  Pasquale  Amato.  As  if 
that  weren't  enough,  she  is  a  descendant  of  Johann 
Sebastian  Bach. 

Adrienne  has  done  stage  and  radio  work,  but  her 
greatest  triumphs  were  in  the  top  cafes  in  this  country. 
The  most  hardened  critics  dug  deep  into  their  sup- 
plies of  compliments  to  rave  about  her  looks,  voice, 
and  technique,  when  she  appeared  at  the  Hotel 
Pierre,  Rainbow  Room,  and  the  Drake  in  New  York; 
the  Ritz  Roof  in  Boston;  and  the  Walton  Roof  in 
Philadelphia,  to  name  a  few.  That  was  perfect  prep- 
aration for  television,  and  the  training  is  evident  in 
the  polish  and  charm  she  projects  to  the  televiewer. 
Adrienne's  enthusiasm  helps,  too — she  considers  tele- 
vision the  perfect  entertainment  form. 


TELEVISION 


52 


LANNY  ROSS  needs  no 
introduction  to  tele- 
vision audiences.  As 
everyone  knows,  he 
has  been  an  outstand- 
ing and  popular  sing- 
er on  the  radio  for 
many  years.  Some  of 
his  best  known  shows 
were  the  Maxwell 
House  Showboat,  the 
Hit  Parade,  the  Camel 
Caravan.  Not  as  well 
known,  but  just  as  im- 
pressive, are  his  activ- 
ities in  the  late  war. 
Major  Lanny  Ross  served  27  months  overseas.  Four 
battle  stars,  the  Legion  of  Merit,  and  the  Philippines 
Liberation  ribbon  are  among  his  proudest  possessions. 
Now  television  audiences  can  see  and  hear  him  on  the 
Swift  Show  (NBT,  Thurs.  8:30  P.  M.). 


BILL  SLATER  is  cur- 
rently the  genial  host 
of  Charade  Quiz, 
WABD,  Thursdays  at 
8:30  P.M.  One  thing 
video  work  has  done 
for  him,  says  Bill,  is 
force  him  to  turn 
down  fancy  desserts. 
Television  cameras 
add  many  pounds  to 
the  person  being  tele- 
vised, so  it's  a  good 
idea  to  stay  slim  as  possible.  While  up  to  his  ears  in 
television,  Bill  continues  with  his  radio  shows,  Lunch- 
eon at  Sardi's  and  Twenty  Questions. 


WIN  ELLIOTT'S  first  job— announcer  on  WMEX  in 
Boston — paid  him  fifteen  dollars  a  week;  today  he 
*is  reputed  to  be  the  highest  paid  sportscaster  in  tele- 
vision. A  tall,  fast-thinking  young  man  of  thirty-two, 
Win  spent  his  boyhood  in  Chelsea,  just  outside  Bos- 
ton. He  started  out  studying  medicine  at  the  Univer- 
sity of  Michigan,  but  a  post-graduate  course  in  speech 
and  radio  convinced  him  to  give  up  scalpels  and  con- 
centrate on  diction.  Fight  years  in  broadcasting,  with 
jobs  ranging  from  staff  announcing  and  m.c.-ing  to 
disc-jockeying  and  sportscasting,  turned  Win  into  a 
deft  ad-libber  with  an  amazing  sense  of  tuning — an 
essential  factor  in  successful  telecasting.  Best  known 
for  County  Fair,  Win  is  presently  cutting  a  niche  for 
himself  in  television  through  his  play-by-play-ac- 
counts of  professional  sports  over  WCBS-TV. 


ROGER      FORSTER, 

who  narrates  WABD's 
nightly  INS-INP  Cam- 
era Headlines  show, 
has  had  his  thumb  in 
the  video  pie  off  and 
on  ever  since  he  was 
released  from  the 
army.  While  in  the 
army,  he  worked  on  a 
number  of  shows  from 
"Radio  Tokyo"  and 
picked  up  some  Japa- 
nese and  German  accents  which  he  puts  to  good 
use  in  making  his  Camera  Headlines  television  show 
more  vivid  and  interesting.  In  addition  to  his  tele- 
vision work  for  WABD,  he's  heard  from  coast-to- 
coast  as  the  man  with  the  commercials  on  the  Horace 
Heidt  show.  He  also  announces  Linda's  First  Love. 
Roger  lives  in  Englewood,  N.  J.,  with  his  pretty 
southern  -wife  and  four-year-old  daughter. 


TELEVISION 


53 


COAST  to  COAST 


ANUT  GALLERY 


There's    no    more    absorbed    audience    than    the 
Peanut    Gallery    that    views    "Howdy    Doody" — 


2&    , 


— and    "Howdy"    himself    is    running    for    Presi- 
dent.     That's     Howdy     on     Bob     Smith's     right. 


At     the     Easter     Parade,     our     Tele-editor     Joan 
Lloyd,     Dennis     James,     and     Sylvie     St.     Clair. 


Norman  Thomas  contributed  to  a  stimulating  interview 
by  Leo   Cherne  on   Dumont's  Court  of   Current  Issues. 


"T  HAVE  a  simply  sensational  idea  for  television!" 
I  You  are  liable  to  hear  that  or  words  to  that  effect 
proclaimed  by  otherwise  fairly  self-contained  citi- 
zens everywhere  you  turn  these  days.  It's  natural  enough. 
Here,  at  long  last,  is  a  completely  new  entertainment 
industry — one  that  isn't  all  sewed  up;  one  that  might 
shoot  newcomers  to  the  top,  and  do  it  a  great  deal  faster 
than  the  established  and  overcrowded  fields  of  the 
theater,  motion  pictures,  and  radio.  That  television  is 
currently  drawing  talent  and  executive  personnel  from 
those  overcrowded  fields  does  not  curb  any  one's 
enthusiasm;  as  indeed  it  should  not,  for  television  must 
and  will  develop  its  own  stars,  producers,  and  directors. 
Let's  follow  your  brain  child  into  the  vast  NBC  Tele- 
vision workshop.  The  beginnings  of  your  "sensational" 
idea  conform  pretty  much  to  this  pattern:  You've  seen 
television  shows,  you  know  you  could  produce  or  star  in 
something  better,  you  get  the  germ  of  a  show  idea,  you 
work  out  the  details  of  the  format  .  .  .  and  then  you  find 
yourself,  frenzied  with  enthusiasm,  facing  a  wide,  high, 
solid  brick  wall.  "Now  what?"  you  ask.  "Where  do  I 
go,  and  whom  do  I  see?"  After  much  confusion,  you 
might  realize  that  you've  heard  that  NBC  is  just  about 
the  biggest  video  operation — why  not  submit  your  baby 
there?  Your  man  there  is  Mr.  Owen  Davis,  Jr.  His  title 
— and  this  gives  you  heart — is  Director  of  Program 
Preparation  and  Procurement  for  NBC  Television. 

You  write  Mr.  Davis  a  charming  letter,  attaching  an 
outline  of  your  television  show.  Let's  say  you  call  it 
"Here's  How,"  and  it  is  to  be  a  demonstration,  different 
each  week,  of  how  to  play  a  popular  parlor  game.    You 


TELEVISION 


For  NBC's  Mornings  at  Seven,  small  model  of  orchard  is 
used  for  long  shots;  life-size  model  is  the  background. 


have  worked  out  gimmicks  for  checkers,  chess,  parchesi, 
monopoly,  murder,  charades,  post  office,  etc.,  etc.,  you 
explain  how  you  plan  to  ring  in  comedy,  information, 
drama,  romance,  and  a  guest  star.  You  toss  around  a 
few  words  like  "sure-fire,"  "television-wise,"  and 
"audience-builder."  Then  you  wait  nervously  to  be 
summoned.  The  call  never  comes.  After  what  seems 
an  interminable  period,  there  arrives  one  morning  a 
very  chilly  document  known  as  a  "release."  A  quick 
glance  will  reveal  that  once  you  affix  your  signature 
thereto  you  have  no  further  claims  on  the  National 
Broadcasting  Company,  or  its  affiliates,  or  the  Radio 
Corporation  of  America,  or  Owen  Davis,  Jr. — in  fact  it 
might  from  that  day  forward  be  a  good  idea  to  get  per- 
mission to  walk  through  Rockefeller  Plaza.  However 
you  sign  and  return  the  release,  putting  yourself  com- 
pletely in  their  gold-filled  hands. 

Upon  receipt  of  your  signed  waiver,  your  format  is 
read  for  the  first  time  by  Mr.  Davis  and  his  staff.  They 
do  not  read  anything  before  receiving  a  release  since 
they  may  already  have  a  similar  idea  on  hand.  The 
works  are  then  sent'  down  to  the  NBC  Legal  Depart- 
ment, where  the  day  received,  day  read,  and  a  brief 
outline  of  the  show  are  recorded.  At  this  point  one  of 
three  things  can  happen:  The  whole  business  can  be 
returned  to  you  with  a  polite  note  to  the  effect  that  your 
idea  is  not  deemed  suitable  for  WNBT  at  this  time,  but 
they  are  extremely  grateful  fer  your  interest — in  short, 
no  dice.  Secondly  they  might  regretfully  inform  you 
that  they  have  on  file  five  other  programs  of  a  similar 
nature  known  respectively  as  (Continued  on  page  100) 


Mortimer  and  Bergen  check  a  script  with 
NBC's  Fred   Coe,   and  Harry  Herman. 


Owen  Davis,  Jr.:  NBC's  Director  of  Pro- 
gram  Preparation,   the    "idea    factory." 


TELEVISION 


A  scene  direct  from  the  Broadway  stage 
show  "Mr.  Roberts",  televised  by  CBS. 


55 


ran  mason 


PERRY  MASON  is  a  criminal  lawyer,  one  of  the  most  feared — and  admired — men  in  his  profession.  Hard  work 
and  hard  fighting  have  helped  him  achieve  his  reputation,  but  he  is  able  to  build  success  upon  success  because  tough- 
ness is  not  his  only  asset.  Behind  a  hard-boiled  facade  Perry  conceals  a  shrewd  understanding  of  people,  an  awareness 
of  their  emotional  patterns  and  of  their  relationships  to  each  other  that  acts  like  a  sixth  sense  when  he  is  on  a  case. 
DELLA  STREET,  Perry's  secretary,  is  in  love  with  him.  It's  an  almost  hopeless  love  that  never  quite  dies,  for.  there 
is  always  a  smile,  a  touch,  a  warm  word  from  Perry  to  feed  her  hope  that  some  day  he  will  look  at  her  and  see,  not  an 
invaluable  co-worker,  but  an  attractive  woman.  Meanwhile,  she  works  devotedly  with  him  on  behalf  of  MARY  McKEEN, 
whose  husband  David  has  disappeared  in  a  plane  over  the  Caribbean,  leaving  her  unprotected  against  his  predatory  sister, 
Elizabeth.   (Perry  Mason  is  played  by  John  Larkin;   Delia  is  Joan  Alexander;  Mary,  on  the  left,  is  Mary  Jane  Higby) 

Perry  Maaon,  haaed  on  the  character  created  by  Erie  Stanley  Gardner,  ia  heard   Monday   through   Friday  at  2:15  P.M.  EDT,  on  CBS  atations. 


56 


mhlsAMob 


Perry  Mason  fights  to 


protect  a  woman  from  an 


enemy  driven  by  one  of 


the  most  dangerous  motives 


known   to   man 


ELIZABETH  WREN,  sister  of  the 
missing  David  McKeen,  has  taken 
advantage  of  Mary's  grief-stricken 
collapse  to  have  her  declared  an 
unfit  mother  for  the  one-year-old 
McKeen  baby.  Liz's  aim,  as  always, 
is  to  gain  possession  of  the  money 
David  controlled.  In  her  persecu- 
tion of  Mary,  Liz  has  had  the  help 
of  her  vicious  friend,  DR.  KEE- 
GAN.  (Liz  is  played  by  Inge  Adams ; 
Dr.     Keegan     is     Eric     Dressier) 


PAUL  DRAKE  is  Perry's  assistant, 
a  young  man  highly  adept  at  get- 
ting information  out  of  people  even 
when  they're  determined  not  to 
give  it.  It's  Paul  who  does  much 
of  the  "leg  work"  that  provides 
evidence  for  the  wily,  ingenious 
cases  Perry  Mason  is  famous  for 
developing.  Liz  Wren  is  up  against 
an  almost  unbeatable  combination 
in  Perry,  Paul  and  Delia.  (Paul 
is    played    by    Charles    Webster) 


57 


^//■en/?u&  tttaA  um  awi/,  vmew 
/fuAe/w:  Ac  nod f  /uh  u&t 


vwt*>/rie  </mu,  ne  vea 


cwme  a/n 


By   KOBBIN  COONS 


Perfect  wedding:   nervous  groom,  radiant  bride,  kindly  Father  John  Conlon. 


THIS  is  the  story  of  some  golden  days  in  the 
life  of  Dennis  ,Day.  .  .  . 
It's  the  tale  of  a  bridegroom  who  did  not 
forget  the  wedding  ring,  and  of  a  bride 
whose  very  first  biscuits  were  neither  burned 
to  a  crisp  nor  stony-hard;  of  a  wedding  that 
was  "simply  beautiful"  and  of  a  honey- 
moon that  was  brief  but  perfect — unless  you 
count  as  imperfections'  such  minor  details  as 
the  car  radiator  that  froze  in  the  night,  the 
mountain  lion  that  got  away,  the  lamb  chops 
that  played  iceberg.  .  .  . 

The  story  began,  actually,  when  Boy  met 
Girl.   That  was  two  years  ago. 

Margaret  Ellen  Almquist  was  the  daughter 
of  family  friends  of  Dennis's  folks,  the  Mc- 
Nultys.  She  lived  in  Lynwood,  a  pleasant 
community  close  to  (Continued  on  page  82) 


"Who  is  she?"  everyone  asked  when  Dennis  Day  bypassed  all  the  career  girls  he'd  dated  and  mar- 
ried Margaret  Ellen  Almquist.  The  answer  is  pure  American  traditional:  Peggy's  the  girl  next 
door.     Or    almost.     And    as    far    as    careers    go,    she's    got    one:     homemaking    for   the    Dennis    Da>;.. 

^  Day  in  the  Life  of  Dennis  Day  is  heard  on  NBC,  Wed.,  H  P.M.  EDT. 


59 


J 


Z&ewmi  iwA  ukc  cm>u  other 
/fumtiuw:  m  new  nia  li&t 


Vat -one  da/ii  h<-  vecamc  <m 
eace/dion.  ^/lj>  me/  trw 


<mw/  wAc  Mted  them: 


By  ROBBIN  COONS 


Perfect  wedding:  nervous  groom,  radiant  bride,  kindly  Father  John 


THIS  is  the  story  of  some  golden  days  in  t: 
life  of  Dennis  Day.  .  .  . 
It's  the  tale  of  a  bridegroom  who  did  n<< 
forget   the    wedding    ring,    and    of    a    brio' 
whose  very  first  biscuits  were  neither  burne 
to  a  crisp  nor  stony-hard;  of  a  wedding  thai 
was    "simply    beautiful"    and    of    a    honey- 
moon that  was  brief  but  perfect— unless  yon 
count  as  imperfections'  such  minor  details  as 
the  car  radiator  that  froze  in  the  night,  the 
mountain  lion  that  got  away,  the  lamb  chop's 
that  played  iceberg.  .  .  . 

The  story  began,  actually,  when  Boy  met 
GirL  That  was  two  years  ago. 

Margaret  Ellen  Almquist  was  the  daughter 
of  family  friends  of  Dennis's  folks,  the  Mc- 
Nultys.  She  lived  in  Lynwood,  a  pleasant 
community  close  to  (Continued  on  page  82) 


"Who  is  she?"  everyone  asked  when  Dennis  Day  bypassed  all  the  career  girls  he'd  dated  and  mar- 
ried Margaret  Ellen  Almquist.  The  answer  is  pure  American  traditional:  Peggy's  the  girl  next 
door.    Or    almost.     And    as    far   as    careers    go,    she's   got    one:    homemaking   for   the    Dennis    Days. 

A  Day  in  the  Life  of  Omnia  Day  U  heard  an  NBC,  Wed..  S  P.M.  BDT. 


BY  way  of  the  oil-scented  bower  of  an  Indian  poten- 
tate's favorite  dancing  girl,  of  a  lion-infested  farm 
in  the  Himalayan  mountains,  and  of  a  big-hearted 
Iowa  town — that's  how  our  "Traveler  of  the  Month" 
came  to  us. 

She's  Grace  Arnold,  the  eighteen-year-old  daughter 
of  a  British  aristocrat  and  a  dark- eyed  Indian  dancing 
girl,  and  the  true  story  that  she  told  our  coast-to-coast 
party  sounded  like  a  potpourri  of  Rudyard  Kipling, 
Cecil  B.  DeMille  and  the  Arabian  Nights.  It  will  be 
many  months  of  travelers  before  I  forget  this  pretty 
young  lady.  Also,  I  won't  forget  the  family  of  modern 
pioneers  who  had  brought  Grace  from  India  to  America, 
and  who  were  returning  with  her  to  the  Himalayas. 
They  are  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Max  Strong  and  their  three 
young  children — a  family  that  calls  Atlantic,  Iowa,  its 
American  home,  but  spends  most  of  its  time  on  a  mission 
farm  in  India. 

I'll  get  ahead  of  my  story  a  little  and  tell  you  this: 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Strong  had  brought  Grace  to  America 
because  they  feared  she  was  going  to  be  kidnapped  in 
India,  kidnapped  by  a  Mohammedan  brother  who  re- 
sented her  conversion  to  Christianity  and  planned  to 
return  her,  by  night,  to  the  walled,  veiled  world  of 
Mohammedan  women.  Getting  the  idea  that  eighteen- 
year-old  Grace  had  quite  a  story? 

Grace's  father  was  William  Canning  Arnold,  son  of 
Sir  Edward  Arnold,  a  British  nobleman  and  man  of 
letters.  The  younger  Arnold  had  made  his  way  to  India, 
and  finally  to  the  province  of  Bhopal.  There,  in  a  way 
that  Grace  couldn't  explain,  he  met  an  Indian  woman 


BY   TOMMY   BARTLETT 


This    Welcome    Travelers    story    is    told    for    Radio    Mirror 
by  the  program's  M.C.  Hear  it  daily  at  12  N.,  EDT,  on  ABC. 


7&e  utfaiyue  o£  Old  *)ttcti€t,  weaver  cut 


80 


of  great  beauty — the  No.  One  dancing  girl  of  the  powerful 
Nwab  of  Bhopal. 

The  romance  of  this  impetuous  young  Britisher  and 
the  fiery  daughter  of  a  world  of  harems  was  a  brave 
flame,  burning  despite  the  disapproval  of  both  Indians 
and  Englishmen.  Young  Arnold  married  his  dancing  girl, 
and  they  had  two  children,  Grace  and  her  older  brother. 
Grace  led  a  happy  life  until  her  seventh  year.  But  then 
Arnold  was  knifed  and  murdered  in  a  senseless  brawl, 
and  for  a  time  the  English  half  of  Grace  Arnold  also 
was  dead. 

Her  mother  returned  to  her  old  benefactor,  the  Nwab 
of  Bhopal.  As  a  dancing  girl  of  beauty,  as  a  prime  favorite 
who  glided  from  behind  a  screen  to  entertain  the  Nwab 
and  his  guests  at  important  banquets,  Grace's  mother 
rated  much  comfort.  She  and  her  children  had  their  own 
house  and  gardens  near  that  of  the  Nwab,  and  there  were 
servants  to  attend  all  their  needs,  i  This  went  on  for  a 
year,  until  the  spirited  dancing  girl/  fell  ill  with  malaria, 

/ 


adueHtunacu  S*tf&4&*H&*  a**L  *  <£<&*& -cqect  dancing  yvil  ittfo  t&U  uttfaioe£tci6le  IteuAciexA  fate 


id  died  despite  all  the  care  of  the  Nwab's  physicians. 

The  Nwab  felt  kindly  toward  the  two  little  orphans, 
and  Grace  and  her  brother  stayed  on  with  him,  protected 
jy  him  and  tutored  to  take  their  places  in  the  Mohamme- 
lan  world. 

In  England,  however,  their  father's  family  had  other 
plans.  A  prim,  British  spinster  of  an  aunt — parasol  and 
all — decided  that  Grace  was  to  return  to  Britain  and 
enter  Mayfair  society.  The  aunt  made  her  way  to  India, 
found  Grace  and  tried  to  hide  her  disapproval  of  the 
girl's  mode  of  living  while  inviting  her  to  return  to 
England.  To  Grace,  however,  this  woman  was  an  envoy 
from  an  alien  world,  and  she  wanted  to  stay  in  her  own 
Mohammedan  world.  And  the  aunt,  still  clutching  that 
parasol,  returned  to  England  alone. 

Some  time  later,  Grace  told  me,  she  was  converted  to 
Christianity.  And  with  her  conversion  came  a  desire  to 
leave  the  Nwab  and  live  among  the  people  whom  she  now 
called  her  own. 


Just  how  Grace  parted  from  the  Nwab  is  not  clear. 
Anyway,  one  night  Grace  and  her  brother  were  taken 
out  of  Bhopal  and  guided  to  a  unique  farm  at  Champawat. 
United  Provinces,  India.  And  at  that  farm  she  met,  for 
the  first  time,  the  Strong  family. 

Let  me  tell  you  about  that  farm.  It  was  founded  by  a 
missionary  group  to  take  care  of  the  children  of  British 
fathers  and  Indian  mothers,  the  children  of  broken  homes 
who  could  find  no  place  for  themselves  in  the  rigid  caste 
life  of  India.  Maxon  Strong,  who  had  been  sent  to  India 
by  the  Presbyterian  Board  of  Foreign  Missions  as  an 
Agricultural  Engineer,  ran  the  farm  with  his  wife's  help. 
Their  three  children  were  born  there,  in  a  patch  of  clear 
land  encircled  by  jungles,  by  tigers  and  wild  pigs  and 
leopards,  by  mysterious  night  sounds  from  the  menacing 
underbrush. 

Here  the  British-Indian  children  worked,  took  Bible 
lessons,  got  academic  training  and  prepared  to  take  useful 
places  in  the  world.    Here  the   (Continued  on  page   99) 


61 


AS  every  radio  listener  by  this  time  knows,  it's  a 
far,  loud  cry  from  the  old  childhood  game  called 
Truth  or  Consequences  to  the  version  that  is 
played  Saturday  nights  at  8:30  EDT  on  NBC.  There 
are  lots  of  differences,  and  not  the  least  of  these  is 
that  the  stakes  you  play  for  in  the  radio  game  are 
so  large  they  stagger  the  imagination.  You  remember, 
for  instance.  Mrs.  Florence  Hubbard,  whose  story  you 


read  in  June  Radio  Mirror  .  .  .  winner  of  the  Walking 
Man  Contest,  she  walked  away  with  almost  $23,000 
worth  of  fabulous  prizes.  That's  one  reason  why 
Truth  or  Consequences  contests  normally  arouse  as 
■much  public  tension  as  an  international  crisis — and 
much  more  fun!  And  that's  why  we  chose  this 
program  for  your  front-row  studio  seats  this  month. 
Well  then,  here  you  are  in  Hollywood,  in  comfort- 


/vy 


>   7 


■■•,.» 


BHB 


able,  colorful  NBC  Radio  City  Studio  E,  close  enough 
to  the  stage  to  see  more  than  the  ayerage  studio  guest 
of  what's  going  on  up  there.  Background  to  the 
action  is  formed  by  gleaming  refrigerators  and  other 
desirable  odds  and  ends,  a  mere  fraction  of  the  con- 
testant's possible  winnings. 

The  people  you  see  are,  left  to  right:    Al  Pascal, 
production  manager;  Fred  Carney,  assistant  produc- 


tion manager;  Floyd  Holm,  supervisor  of  the  program 
for  the  Compton  Advertising  Agency;  Phil  Davis,  one 
of  the  writers;  Ralph  Edwards,  in  the  midst  of  putting 
the  feathered  contestant  through  his  paces;  standing 
at  right,  Ed  Bailey,  the  program's  director.  Sitting 
behind  Mr.  Bailey,  more  contestants  wait  their  turn. 
Now,  which  do  you  pick:  truth,  or  consequences? 
Either  way,  you  win! 


63 


IUR  TICKET  TO    #v 


AS  every  radio  listener  by  this  time  knows,  it's  a 
Ear,  loud  cry  from  the  old  childhood  game  called 
Truth  or  Consequences  to  the  version  that  is 
played  Saturday  nights  at  8:30  EDT  on  NBC.  There 
Eire  lots  of  differences,  and  not  the  least  of  these  is 
that  tile  stakes  you  play  for  in  the  radio  game  are 
so  large  they  stagger  the  imagination.  You  remember, 
for  instance.  Mrs.  Florence  Hubbard,  whose  story  you 


read  in  June  Radio  Mirror  .  .  .  winner  of  the  Walk"i* 
Man  Contest,  she  walked  away  with  almost  $23,IW 
worth  of  fabulous  prizes.  That's  one  reason  Wft. 
Truth  or  Consequences  contests  normally  arouse  as 
much  public  tension  as  an  international  cr'sis_"^ 
much   more  fun!     And   that's   why   we   chose  "" 


program  for  your  front-row  studio  seats  this  moi 


.nth 


Well  then,  here  you  are  in  Hollywood,  in 


L-omfort' 


able,  colorful  NBC  Radio  City  Studio  E,  close  enough 
to  the  stage  to  see  more  than  the  average  studio  guest 
of  what's  going  on  up  there.  Background  to  the 
action  is  formed  by  gleaming  refrigerators  and  other 
desirable  odds  and  ends,  a  mere  fraction  of  the  con- 
testant's possible  winnings. 

The  people. you  see  are,  left  to  right:    Al  Pascal, 
production  manager;  Fred  Carney,  assistant  produc- 


tion manager;  Flovd  Holm,  supervisor  of  the  program 
for  the  Compton  Advertising  Agency;  Phil  Dav.s.  one 
of  the  writers;  Ralph  Edwards,  in  the  midst  of  putting 
the  feathered  contestant  through  his  paces;  standing 
at  right,  Ed  Bailey,  the  program's  director.  Sitting 
behind  Mr   Bailey,  more  contestants  wait  theii   turn 

Now.  which  do  you  pick:     truth,  or  consequ 

Either  way,  you  win! 


The  secret  of  a  cool  summer  for  the  family  cook  lies  right  in  the  salad  howl.    Not  "rahhit  food," 
hut  real  food  can  come  out  of  it:    romhine  a  hearty   hase  with  frilly  greens,  and  there   you  are! 


C4 


/////■ 

Hi  Mi 

fir     ■* » 


IS  there  anyone  who  really  likes  to  cook  in  hot 
weather?  I  don't,  so  I  plan  my  meals  to  come 
out  of  the  refrigerator.  This  only  takes  an  hour 
or  two  of  work  in  the  morning  in  the  kitchen.  It 
is  cool  then  and  I  get  most  of  the  day's  cooking 
out  of  the  way. 

A  big  hearty  salad,  hot  rolls  or  biscuits  and  a 
long  cool  drink  often  settle  my  supper  problem. 
The  secret  of  this  is  to  make  that  salad  a  hearty 
one.  I  make  it  with  a  base  of  meat,  cheese  or  fish 
and  plenty  of  fresh  vegetables.  Fruit  salads  are 
my  favorites  for  lunch.  For  the  dressing  I  like  just 
plain  sour  cream.  Lots  of  people  think  that  sour 
cream  tastes  sour.  It  doesn't  really — it  just  has  a 
tang  that  goes  perfectly  with  all  kinds  of  fruit. 
Gelatine  salads,  too,  are  good  warm  weather  dishes. 
I  like  them  because  they  are  so  versatile;  you  can 
make  so  many  interesting  and  delicious  dishes 
from  them.  Here  are  my  favorite  summer  recipes. 
All  of  them  keep  the  kitchen  cool. 

CHEF'S  SALAD  BOWL 

1  cup  shredded  lettuce 
1  cup  shredded  romaine 
1  cup  shredded  cabbage 

1  bunch  watercress 

%  can  luncheon  meat  or  tongue  cut  in  strips 
4  hard  cooked  eggs,  cut  in  wedges 
%  pound  American  cheese,  cut  in  strips 
%  teaspoon  dried  thyme 

2  tomatoes,  sliced  or  wedged 
Mayonnaise  or  French  dressing 

Combine  crisp  greens,  add  to  meat,  eggs,  cheese 
and  thyme.  Toss  together  lightly.  Arrange  toma- 
toes and  chill  thoroughly.  Serve  with  hot  dressing 
and  refrigerator  rolls  and  butter.  Makes  6  servings. 

FRANKFURTER   POTATO    SALAD 


6  medium   sized   potatoes, 

peeled,  cooked  and  diced 

V2  cup  chopped  celery 


V2  cup  minced  dill  pickle 
3  frankfurters,  cooked 
1  teaspoon  salt 


2  tablespoons  minced  onion    1  teaspoon  dry  mustard 
6  radishes,  sliced  %  cup  mayonnaise  (about) 

Lettuce  or  watercress 

Combine  potatoes,   celery,   onion,   radishes   and 
pickle.    Skin  frankfurters,  slice  and  add  to  potato 


mixture.  Add  salt,  mustard  and  enough  mayon- 
naise to  blend.  Cover  and  chill  well.  Serve  on 
lettuce.    Makes  6  servings. 

FRESH  FRUIT  SALAD 

1  tablespoon  plain  gelatine    V4  cup  lemon  juice 

Vz  cup  sugar  V/2  cups  diced  or  sliced  fresh 

1%  cups  water  fruit  or  berries    (do  not 

V4  cup  orange  juice  use  fresh  pineapple) 

V2  cup  diced  celery 

Combine  gelatine,  sugar,  water,  orange  and 
lemon  juice  in  a  saucepan.  Bring  slowly  to  boiling, 
over  low  heat.  Stir  until  sugar  and  gelatine  are 
dissolved.  Chill  until  slightly  thickened.  Fold  in 
fruit  and  celery.  Turn  into  6  individual  custard 
cups  or  one  large  mold.  Chill  until  firm.  Unmold 
on  crisp  lettuce  and  garnish  with  mayonnaise. 
Makes  6  servings. 

Note:  To  serve  as  dessert,  omit  celery  and  add 
other  fruit. 

CMAPEFRUIT  RING  FILLED  WITH 
SHRIMP   SALAD 

2  tablespoons  plain  gelatine 
V2  cup  cold  water 

3  cups  sweetened  grapefruit  juice 
%  cups  orange  juice 

V4  cup  strained  lemon  juice 
Watercress 

2  cups  shrimp  salad 

Combine  gelatine  and  cold  water.  Add  to  grape- 
fruit juice.  Add  the  orange  juice  and  lemon  juice. 
Bring  to  boiling  over  low  {Continued  on  page  103) 


By   KATE   SMITH 


RADIO  MIRROR  FOOD  COUNSELOR 


Listen  to  Kate  Smith  Speaks 
at  12  Noon  each  weekday,  on 
stations  of  the  Mutual  network. 


65 


Here  is  the  story  of  the  marriage  of  Rosemary — all   the   doubts,   the  heart-searching,   the   fears   that 


AFTERWARD,  Rosemary  couldn't  recall  that  winter,  that 
brief  and  perfect  season  of  her  marriage,  without 
remembering  also  the  "Liebestod"  filling  the  living 
room  at  home  with  the  glorious,  tragic  love  music  of  Tristan 
and  Isolde  .  .  .  without  remembering  Joyce  Miller's  radiant 
face  across  a  luncheon  table. 

Both  Rosemary  and  her  friend  had  their  full  share  of 
joy  that  day,  and  both  for  the  same  reason.  Nothing  could 
touch  them.  The  people  at  the  tables  around  them,  the 
holiday  shoppers  hunching  their  shoulders  against  the 
stinging  wind  outside,  had  no  part  in  their  private,  blissful 
world. 

"Now,"  said  Rosemary,  "tell  me  about  it — all  your  won- 
derful news." 

"It's  this."  Joyce  hesitated,  as  if  she  were  almost  fearful 
of  putting  so  much  happiness  into  words.  "Will  you  be  my 
maid  of  honor?" 

"So  soon?"  Rosemary  gasped.  "You're  already  making 
plans — " 

Joyce  nodded.  "I  hope  it's  going  to  be  next  week.  Dick's 
final  decree  will  come  through  any  minute  now,  and  then 
we'll  wait  a  few  days,  and  then  Dick  wants  us  to  get 
married.  Wants  me,"  she  finished  in  an  awed  voice,  "to 
become  Mrs.  Dick  Phillips." 

"But  next  week!    Oh,  Joycey,  I'm  afraid — " 

"Don't  say  you  can't!"  Joyce  interrupted  swiftly.  "You've 
suffered  with  me  through  this  whole  thing,  Rosemary,  and 
I  just  couldn't  get  married  without  you." 

"But  I  may  not  be  here  next  week,"  Rosemary  protested. 
"I  may  be  in  Chicago." 

"Chicago!     What   for?" 

"Because  of  Bill,"  Rosemary  explained.  "He's  got  to  go 
up  there.  There's  someone  who  wants  to  see  him,  to  find 
out  if  he's  a  son  or  a  brother  missing  in  action.  He  made 
the  same  kind  of  test  here  at  the  hospital  the  other  day. 
And  of  course  he'd  never  seen  the  woman  before,  nor  had 
she  ever  seen  him.  I'm  sure  the  same  thing  will  happen  in 
Chicago.  But  there's  always  that  chance — that  slim  chance 
— that  it  may  be  somebody  who  is  out  of  his  past." 

It  hurt,  talking  about  Bill's  past,  even  to  as  good  a  friend 


as  Joyce  Miller.  It  hurt  to  think  that  he'd  had  a  young 
lifetime  which  she  knew  nothing  about,  which  Bill  himself 
knew  nothing  about.  It  would  have  been  frightening,  had 
she  let  herself  be  afraid.  But  because  she  loved  him,  her 
heart  saw  him  whole,  complete,  even  though  her  mind 
knew  that  Bill's  memory  went  hardly  further  than  his 
coming  to  Springdale  and  to  the  care  of  Dr.  Jim  Cotter — 
hardly  beyond  his  coming  to  the  Dawson  house,  where  Dr. 
Jim  had  placed  him. 

"He's  going  to  Chicago,"  Joyce  repeated,  "and  you're 
going  with  him?" 

"I  want  to,"  Rosemary  answered.  "I  think  I  should.  But 
Dr.  Jim  and  Bill  don't  want  me  to  go.  They  want  to  go 
alone." 

"Then  let  them,"  Joyce  pleaded,  "so  you  can  be  here 
for  my  wedding." 

Rosemary  smiled  at  her,  and  yet  wondered  at  the  gap 
that  could  exist  even  between  friends  as  close  as  Joyce 
and  she.  But  then,  she  couldn't  expect  Joyce  to  understand 
how  she  felt  about  the  wall  that  divided  Bill  Roberts  from 
his  past.  Joyce's  troubles  with  Dick  had  been  entirely 
different.  Dick's  life  was  an  open  book — perhaps  too  open. 
President  of  the  bank  in  Springdale,  husband  of  Emily 
Phillips.  .  .  .  No,  Joyce  hadn't  had  an  easy  time  of  it, 
working  side  by  side  with  Dick  at  the  bank,  loving  him — 
so  hopelessly,  it  had  seemed  at  first. 

"Joycey,"  she  said  gently,  "you  know  there's  nothing  I 
wouldn't  do  for  you.  But  I  have  to  be  near  Bill.  He  went 
through  a  test  lasf  night  at  our  house  .  .  ."  She  stared  at 
her  plate,  seeing  instead  the  comfortable  living  room  of  the 
Cape  Cod  bungalow  on  the  Newtown  Road,  and  her  mother 
and  Dr.  Jim,  and  Bill.  Hearing  the  tremendous  and  painful 
beauty  of  the  "Liebestod"  pouring  out  of  the  phonograph. 

"We'd  been  window  shopping  that  afternoon,  Bill  and  I," 
she  went  on.  "Day-dreaming  about  the  things  we'd  have 
when  we  were  married.  Then  Bill  said,  'We'll  have  a 
wonderful  record  library.  My  favorite  is  Tristan  and  Isolde. 
I  love  the  'Liebestod.'  I  love — '  And  then  he  stopped,  realiz- 
ing that  he  was  remembering  something  out  of  his  past — 
and  he  couldn't  bring  back  any  more  of  it.    He  remem- 


Radio  Mirror1*  exclusive  Keuder  Bonus 
novelette,  complete  in  this  inane,  bring** 
you  for  the  iirHt  time  in  Hlory  form  an  im- 
portant event  in  the  life  of  HoHemary,  just 
as  it  was  heard  on  the  air.  (Kosemary  is 
heard    Mon.-Fri.,   CBS,    11:45    A.M.    EDT) 


66 


went   before  it;  all   the  joy   of  that   glorious   day   when    at   last   her   cup   of   happiness   brimmed   full! 


''Nothing,"  Rosemary  thought,  "can   separate  us  now."    (Rosemary  is  Betty  Winkler;  Bill  is  George  Keane"1 


bered  a  room  and  a  fire  and  a  radio  playing  softly,  and 
that  was  all.  So — after  we  got  home  that  night,  I  played 
the  'Liebestod.'  Dr.  Jim  was  there,  and  he  thought  it  was 
a  good  idea,  thought  it  would  help  Bill  remember  more. 
It  didn't — but  it  threw  him  into  a  terrible  panic.  He  was 
pale  and  shaking — " 

Rosemary  herself  looked  a  little  pale  at  the  recollection. 
Joyce  spoke  quickly. 

"Then  of  course  you  have  to  go  to  Chicago  with  him, 
Rosemary.    I  didn't  realize  it  was  so  important — " 

"It's  terribly  important,"  said  Rosemary  slowly.  "The 
least  little  thing  might  upset  his  balance,  might  even  cause 
the  present  to  blot  out.  And  oh,  Joycey,  sometimes  in  my 
dreams  I  have  nightmares  when  I  think  Bill  doesn't  know 
me,  doesn't  remember  who  I  am — " 

"Maybe  I  can  put  off  our  wedding  for  a  few  days,"  said 
Joyce.   "You'll  come  back  very  soon,  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  yes."  Rosemary  nodded  confidently.  "The  chances 
are  a  million  to  one  that  it'll  be  no  one  related  to  Bill. 


In  that  case,  we'll  take  the  very  next  train  back  to  Spring- 
dale.  And  I'll  feel  that  we've  put  one  more  hurdle  behind 
us.  You  see,  Joycey,  it's  the  shock  of  his  suddenly  being 
confronted  with  someone  or  something  out  of  his  past  that 
I'm  afraid  of.  I  can't  help  feeling  that  he'll  be  all  right 
if  his  memory  returns  gradually — as  it  is  returning.  Almost 
every  day  some  little  fragment  of  something  comes  to  him." 

"And  when  he  does  remember  everything  and  know  who 
he  is — "  Joyce  smiled. 

"When  he  does,"  Rosemary's  laughter  spilled  over  at  the 
very  thought,  "Mother  and  Dr.  Jim  and  Bill  himself  can't 
have  any  more  objections  to  our  getting  married.  We're 
going  to  have  the  most  wonderful  life  in  the  world." 

"I  know."  Joyce's  laugh  echoed  hers.  "Oh,  Rosemary, 
it's  such  fun  to  have  you  feel  the  same  way  I  do,  to  kno\v 
you  can't  live  without  a  man,  just  as  I  can't  live  without 
Dick.  Look  at  all  those  people  on  the  street.  Do  you  sup- 
pose they  all  feel  the  way  we  do,  are  as  happy  and  as 
grateful  as  we  are?    I'm  sure  they're  not.    Because  I  had 


67 


Mother  Dawson 
(Marian   Barney) 


68 


such  a  miserable  life — I 
never  had  love  at  all  until 
I  met  Dick." 

"And  it  was  just  the  op- 
posite for  me,"  said  Rose- 
mary softly.  "I've  had  love 
all  my  life — Mother,  and 
Patti,  and  Dr.  Jim,  who's 
been  almost  like  a  father  to 
Patti  and  me.  And  yet,  I 
never  came  alive  until  I 
met  Bill." 

"We've  found  what  every- 
body el§e  is  looking  for," 
Joyce  said.    "We've  been  so 

lucky.  This  isn't  just  the  everyday  thing.    It's — " 

"The  sort  of  thing  you  read  about  in  books  but  never 

expect  to  feel  yourself,"  Rosemary  finished  for  her.    "Oh, 

Joycey — " 

They  smiled  at  each  other.    They  couldn't  stop  smiling, 

not  with  their  cup  of  happiness  brimming  full.    And  yet, 

there  was  more  to  come  for  Rosemary  that  very  day. 
Bill  called  for  her  in  the  late  afternoon,  when  the  office 

was  deserted  and  the  street  outside  was  quiet  in  the  blue 

winter  twilight.   Rosemary  had  been  telephoning.   She  put 

down  the  receiver  as  he  came  in. 

*  "That  was  Dr.  Jim,"  she  said.    "He's  coming  over  after 

dinner  to  give  me  some  more  reasons  as  to  why  I  shouldn't 

go  with  you  to  Chicago." 
Bill  had  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders,  had  been  about 

to  kiss  her.    Now  his  hands  remained  where  they  were, 

but  his  face  set  seriously. 
"But,  darling,  we  settled  that.    I  told  you  I  didn't  want 

you  to  go.  As  a  favor  to  me,  please  wait  here  for  me." 
"Why,  Bill?"   She  searched  his  face,  knowing  every  line 

of  it,  loving  every  line  of  it,  even  the  lost  and  wistful 

expression  that  was  sometimes  there,  even  when  it  was  set 

and  forbidding  as  it  was  now.    "Is  there  something  special 

about  this  trip  that  you  haven't  told  me  about?    You  said 

yourself  last  night  when  that  music  upset  you —   You  said 

that  having  me  there  helped.    You  know  you  did." 

"Rosemary — "    For  a  moment  he  couldn't  go  on,  not  with 

her  troubled,  candid  eyes  fixed  upon  his.    He  couldn't  lie 

to  her;   neither   could   he   stand   there   and   see   her   love 

betrayed  by  telling  her  the  truth.  "Will  you 

trust  me,"  he  asked,  "when  I  say  I  don't 

want  you — that  I've  my  own  reasons,  and 

I'm  not  going  to  tell  them  to  you.  no  matter 

how  hard  you  beg  nor  how  much  you  try 

to  get  around  them?" 

"Then  there   is   something!"    Her  hands 

came   up,   curled   hard   around   his   wrists. 

"There's  something  special  about  this  trip 

— why  don't  you  tell  me  what  it  is?    You 

know  that  every  little  thing  that  happens 

to  you  is  so  terribly  important  to  me — " 
"I'll  tell  you  one  thing,"  he  said  steadily, 

"that  I  love  you  more  than  anything  else 

on  this   earth,   more  than   any   other  man 

ever  loved  a  woman.  And  that  I've  counted 

the  minutes  all  day  until  I  could  get  here 

and  see  you  and  talk  to  you  and  kiss  you — " 
She  melted  against  him,  could  no  more 

have  held  herself  away  than  she  could  have 

stopped  breathing.    For  a  little  while  they 

were  one;  the  fact  of  their  love  shut  out 

everything  else,  all  her  fears  for  him,  his 

own  miserable  inability  to  accept  the  love 

she  offered.    Then  Rosemary  broke  away,  biting  her  lips 

to  still  their  shaking. 
"You're  not  going  to   put  me  off  that  way,"   she  said. 

"I'm  not  going  to  be  sidetracked  by  loving  to  have  you 

hold  me  and  kiss  me.   Bill,  tell  me  what  it  is,  why  you're 

going—" 

He  made  himself  laugh,  as  if  the  secret  were  a  small 

one,  made  himself  say  lightly,  "Come  on,  it's  late.    We're 

going  to  dinner,  we're  going  to  pick  up  our  pictures,  we're 

going  to  have  fun — " 

"Fun!    When  you  won't  tell  me — " 

"Come  on.    Get  your  coat — "    Then  he  got  it  for  her 

and  she  let  him  put  it  on  her  because  his  arms  came  with 

it  for  a  moment.   "Hat  next.   Gloves — no,  never  mind  your 

other  glove.    I'll  put  your  hand  in  my  pocket  and  keep  it 

warm.    We've  got  to  get  some  place  before  it  closes." 


Dr.  Jim 

(Charles 


"BLESS    THIS    RING" 


"What  place?    Why?    Bill—" 

He  maneuvered  her,  laughing  and  protesting,  out  of  the 
office,  into  the  street.  They  passed  a  few  doors,  turned  into 
a  still  lighted  shop. 

"Why  it's  Smith's!"  she  exclaimed.  "Whatever — ?  Good 
evening,  Mr.  Smith." 

Pete  Smith  came  forward,  beaming  at  her  over  the  cases 
of  watches  and  rings.  He  had  a  special  place  in  his  heart 
for  the  Dawson  girls,  a  very  special  place  for  their  mother, 
Susy. 

"I  want  a  ring  for  Rosemary,"  Bill  said.  "The  very  best 
and  most  beautiful  solitaire  you  have." 

"Bill!"  she  gasped.    "You  mustn't!    I  won't  let  you — " 

"Well,  now — "   The  old  man  was  flustered.    "I'll  be  glad 

to  show  you  .  .  .  only  it  isn't  often  anyone  comes  in  and 

asks  for  the  best  I  have.    Usually  young  folks  are  buying 

on  a  budget." 

"So  are  we,"  said  Rosemary  firmly.  "For  that  matter,  I 
hadn't  even  thought  of  a  ring—"  . 

"I  have,"  said  Bill.  "And  we're  not  on  a  budget,  not 
when  it  comes  to  Rosemary's  ring." 

"Well,  now — "  He  slid  back  the  showcase  door,  closed  it 
again,  turned  to  the  safe  behind  him.  "I  have  here  some- 
thing very  beautiful  that  was  left  with  me  to  sell.  Only 
thing   is,  the  price — " 

Rosemary  caught  her  breath  at  the  flashing  stone  that 
was  set  down  on  the  square  of  black  velvet  before  her. 
Bill  was  watching  her  closely.    "Like  it?"  he  asked. 

"Like  it!  It's  simply  gorgeous — but  not  for  me!  Why, 
it  must  be  two  carats,  at  least!" 

"I  believe  it  is,"  Mr.  Smith  agreed.  "And  it  has  a  happy 
history.  The  lady  who  brought  it  in  said  she  was  very 
happy  wearing  it,  and  that  she  hoped  that  whoever  bought 
it  would  be  very  happy,  too." 

Bill  slipped  it  on  her  finger.  "It's  your  ring,"  he  said. 
"It's  perfect  for  you.   I  won't  let  you  have  any  other." 

Rosemary  didn't  believe  it  at  first.  She  felt  a  little  as  if 
Bill  had  shown  her  Buckingham  Palace  and  had  told  her 
that  he  was  buying  it  for  her  to  live  in.  When  she  did 
believe  it,  she  protested  vehemently,  and  in  vain.  Bill  and 
Mr.  Smith  retired  to  the  back  room  to  settle  the  business 
end  of  the  sale;  Rosemary  was  left  alone  with  her  ring. 

It  flashed  at  her  through  a  dazzling  mist.  Her  eyes  were 
wet;  her  throat  ached  unbearably.  That  Bill  cared  so  much 
for  her,  wanted  so  much  for  her  .  .  .  and 
then  the  mist  cleared.  The  ring  meant 
something — it  was  more  than  an  engage- 
ment ring.  With  it,  Bill  was  trying  to  tell 
her  something,  something  he  couldn't  put 
into  words.  He  was  asking  her  to  believe  in 
him,  to  take  on  faith  the  answers  to  all  her 
questions,  to  understand  that,  no  matter 
what  happened,  their  love  was  as  change- 
less as  the  imperishable  stone. 

"Bill,"  she  asked  as  they  left  the  shop, 
"if  for  any  reason  you  were  going  to  stay 
away  from  me  for  a  length  of  time,  you'd 
tell  me,  wouldn't  you?" 

"I  never  want  to  stay  away  from  you  for 
a  single  minute,  Rosemary.  You  know 
that." 

He  spoke  soberly,  and  her  heart  quick- 
ened at  the  words,  at  the  tenderness  in  his 
voice.  But  her  question  remained  un- 
answered.   She  persisted. 

"I  know  that,  but  you're  not  answering 
me,  Bill.   Can't  you  answer?    Why?" 

"Because   I   don't   know,   Rosemary,"   he 
"I  don't  know  what  will  be  the  result  of 


Cotter 
Penman) 


said  patiently, 
the  trip—" 

"But  whatever  it  is,  you'll  come  straight  back  here  and 
tell  me  about  it,  won't  you?" 

"Rosemary,  how  can  I  tell  how  I'll  act,  when  I  don't 
know  what  restoring  my  memory  will  do  to  me?  No- 
body knows  what's  ahead  of  me — ahead  of  us.  All  I  know 
is  that  I  have  this  moment — now — to  be  with  you,  to  be 
happy  with  you,  to  forget  what  may  or  what  may  not 
come.  Rosemary — "  He  stopped,  looked  down  into  her 
face  under  the  street  light.  Again  she  felt  him  trying  to 
reach  her,  felt  the  unspoken  plea.  "Help  me,  Rosemary," 
he  said,  "to  be  happy  this  moment.  Darling,  help  me  to  get 
all  that  I  can  out  of  right  now — " 

Her  hand  was  cradled  in  his  inside  his  overcoat  pocket. 
Her  thumb  moved,  touched  the  ring  as  she  would  touch  a 


BLESS    THIS    RING" 


talisman.     The   touch   of  it   brought   instant   reassurance. 

"Oh,  yes,  Bill,"  she  said.  "Of  course  I  will.  And  I  won't 
beg  you  any  more  to  take  me  with  you.  I  won't  say  another 
word  about  it.  We'll  just  be  happy  now,  enough  for  all  the 
rest  of  our  time.  You  know  that's  what  I  want  to  do  more 
than  anything  else." 

They  called  it  their  perfect  night.  The  proofs  of  the 
pictures  they'd  had  taken  the  night  before  at  the  little 
shop  near  the  station  so  delighted  them  that  they  granted 
the  photographer  his  dearest  wish,  and  allowed  themselves 
to  be  snapped  in  his  property  automobile,  with  Rosemary 
dangling  her  hand  over  the  side  so  that  her  ring  would 
show.  They  took  running  slides,  like  children,  on  an  icy 
patch  of  sidewalk,  and  arrived  breathless  and  glowing 
at  their  rendezvous,  the  Wishing  Well. 

Bill's  hand  sought  hers  across  the  table.  "I  love  sitting 
across  the  table  from  you,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "I  love 
the  shape  of  your  face,  and  the  shadow  of  your  lashes  on 
your  cheeks.  I  love  your  mouth — you  have  the  most 
irresistible  mouth — " 

"Don't,"  said  Rosemary.  She  tried  to  pull  her  hand  away, 
but  he  held  it  fast.  "Darling,  if  you  don't  stop  saying  things 
like  that,  I'll  get  up  right  here  in  the  middle  of  the  res- 
taurant and  sit  on  your  knee.  Besides,  it  only  makes  the 
waiting  harder.  Why  do  we  have  to  wait  at  all,  Bill? 
When  we're  so  sure  of  ourselves,  of  each  other.  .  .  ." 

She  could  have  added,  "I'm  still  afraid;  I'm  terrified. 
Not  of  loving  you,  no  matter  what  your  past  has  been. 
I've  never  been  afraid  of  that.  No,  it's  being  separated 
from  you  that  terrifies  me — " 

Bill  said  reasonably,  "It  shouldn't.  Because  we  are  sure 
is  the  very  reason  it  won't  hurt  us  to  wait  until  I've  had 
a  little  more  time  to  find  out  who  I  really  am." 

He'd  used  exactly  the  right  words.  She  felt  calmer,  at 
peace.  And  when  they  left  the  Wishing  Well  and  stepped 
into  a  world  of  softly  drifting  white,  she  caught  Bill's  arm, 
halting  him.  Together  they  stared  up  into  the  powdery  sky. 

"I  love  snow,"  said  Rosemary.  "It's  so  pure — so  perfect. 
On  a  night  like  this  it's  hard  to  believe  that  anything  can 
go  wrong  in  the  world,  for  anyone." 

"I  love  your  mind,"  he  said.  "It's  like  a  child's — so  clear 
and  fine  and  unspoiled."  After  a  moment  he  added,  "It's 
too  beautiful  out  for  us  to  go  home.  Let's  go  coasting — 
commandeer  Patti's   sled.    My  brother   and  I  used   to — " 

He  stopped.  Rosemary  held  her  breath, 
waiting.  "Yes,  Bill.  You  and  your  brother 
used  to — "  r 

"He  had  a  bob-sled,"  Bill  said  slowly. 
"He  used  to  teach  me  to  steer.  His  name 
was — was — " 

"Go  on,"  said  Rosemary  tensely.  "His 
name — " 

Bill  shook  his  head.  "It's  gone.  But  I 
can  see  him  steering  that  sled — my  big 
brother.  Golly,  Rosemary,  this  is  the  first 
time  that  a  person  has  come  so  clear  to 
me!" 

Nothing  better  could  happen,  Rosemary 
thought — not  in  that  one  night.  Joyce's 
future  was  settled;  she  herself  had  her 
ring,  concrete  symbol  of  the  bond  between 
Bill  and  her,  and  now  this  fragment  had 
come  out  of  Bill's  past,  more  promising 
than  any  of  the  others. 

Much  later,  after  they'd  reached  home, 
after  Bill  had  gone  to  his  room  off  the 
kitchen,  she  couldn't  sleep  for  thinking 
about   the   enchanted    hours    behind    her. 

Patti  was  with  her,  curled  up  on  the  foot  of  her  bed, 
looking  every  inch  the  high  school  girl  she  was,  in  pajamas 
and  with  a  matching  bow  tied  in  her  long,  curly  bob. 
Patti  was  in  raptures  over  the  ring.  Aside  from  its  size 
and  beauty,  it  made  Rosemary's  marriage  seem  imminent, 
and  Patti  did  not  side  with  her  mother  and  Dr.  Jim  and 
Bill  himself  in  feeling  that  the  marriage  ought  to  be  put  off. 

"Oh,  Rosemary,"  she  cried.  "Isn't  Bill  just  utterly 
devastating?  I  mean,  to  think  of  getting  a  ring  like  that! 
I'm  really  being  awfully  unselfish  in  giving  him  up  to  you." 

"Yes,  you  are,  baby,"  said  Rosemary  tenderly,  "and  don't 
think  I  don't  appreciate  it." 

Patti  gave  her  a  suspicious  sidelong  glance.  "Oh,  I  know 
you're  laughing  at  me  inwardly,  but  after  all,  I  did  fall 
in  love  with  him  first.  And  I  just  didn't  try  to  get  him 
when  I  saw  he  meant  your  whole  life.    I  still  think  he's 


Patti  Dawson 
(Patsy    Campbell) 

-  Isn't  that  the  tele- 
"It  is. 


Peter  Harvey 
(Sidney   Smith) 


exactly  the  right  type  for 
me.  I  mean,  he  just  dis- 
turbs me  to  the  depths  of 
my  soul.  He's  so  utterly 
romantic  looking — sort  of 
wistful." 

Rosemary  laughed.  "I 
don't  think  he  looked  so 
wistful  tonight  when  he 
was      throwing      snowballs  '!<" 

down  my  neck  on  Ander- 
son's Hill." 

Patti  gazed  at  her  round- 
eyed,    reproachful.      "Rose- 
mary,    sometimes     I     think 
you  just  don't  appreciate  the  finer- 
phone?" 

Rosemary  listened,  and  swung  her  feet  to  the  floor. 
How  funny  at  this  time  of  night — " 

Bill  and  her  mother  had  heard  it,  too,  but  Rosemary 
reached  the  telephone  first.  It  took  a  moment  for  her  to 
recognize  the  voice  that  came  over  the  wire,  so  changed 
was  it  from  when  she  had  last  heard  it. 

"Rosemary —  Rosemary — "  It  was  Joyce.  "Sorrothing 
terrible  has  happened — " 

Patti  waited  as  long  as  she  could  bear  to  wait.  She  heard 
her  sister's  shocked  exclamation,  but  the  rest  of  the  one- 
sided conversation  told  her  nothing.  "It's  Joyce,  isn't  it?" 
she  whispered  at  Rosemary's  elbow.  "What  does  she  say, 
Rosemary?  Mother,  Bill,  It's  Joyce,  and  I  think  she's 
crying — " 

Rosemary  put  down  the  telephone  and  turned  to  face 
them.  "Emily  Phillips  was  killed  in  an  accident  on  the 
Coast,"  she  said.     "Her  car  went  over  a  cliff." 

Patti  was  the  first  to  break  the  shocked  silence  that  fol- 
lowed. "Well,  what  does  Joyce  care  about  that?"  she 
demanded.    "Doesn't  that  make  things  simpler?" 

"Patti!"    Her  mother's  voice  was  heavy  with  warning. 
"Who  was  killed?"  Bill  asked. 

"Emily  Phillips,"  Rosemary  repeated.  "Dick  Phillips' 
wife — Dick's  the  man  Joyce  was — is — going  to  marry.  I've 
got  to  go  to  her,  Bill,  and  I  think  I'd  better  spend  the  night. 
Joyce  is  in  a  terrible  state.  You  see,  Dick  didn't  even  tell 
Joyce  about  it  as  soon  as  it  happened.  He  made  all  the 
arrangements  to  go  to  the  Coast,  had  a  car 
drive  him  to  the  junction,  and  didn't  call 
Joyce  until  he  was  at  the  junction  waiting 
.  for  a  train.  She  feels — she  can't  help 
feeling — that  he's  simply  turned  his  back 
on  her  ,  .  .  gone  back  to  Emily." 

Dr.  Jim  Cotter  heard  about  it  the  next 
morning  he  dropped  in  for  an  early  cup  of 
coffee  in  the  Dawson  kitchen.  He  sipped 
his  coffee  and  listened  with  somber  eyes 
while  Mrs.  Dawson  talked. 

"You  don't  know  any  details,  Susy,  ex- 
cept that  Emily  was  alone  in  the  car  when 
it  happened?"  he  asked. 

She  shook  her  head.  "No,  Bill  took 
Rosemary  over  to  Joyce  last  night,  and 
that's  all  he  knew  when  he  came  back. 
Whatever  you're  thinking,  Jim,  don't  say 
it,  for  Joycey's  sake." 

"All  right,  I  won't — but  I'll  think  it. 
Susy.  Knowing  how  Emily  felt  about 
Dick,  knowing  that  her  life  practically 
ended  when  she  parted  from  him-.  .  .  . 
Rosemary's  still  with  Joyce?" 
"Yes,"   she  answered.    "Why?" 

"I  was  just  thinking.  I'm  ready  to  leave  for  Chicago  any 
time  Bill  wants  to  go.  This  might  be  a  good  time,  with 
Rosemary  absorbed  in  Joyce's  troubles." 

"Oh,  Jim!"  She  stared  at  him  across  the  table,  her  eyes 
dark  with  indecision.  "I  don't  know  what  to  say.  It's  so 
difficult  for  me  to  decide  to  part  them." 

"I  know,  Susy.  But  you  can  see  for  yourself  they're 
falling  more  in  love  every  day — and  he  can't  marry  Rose- 
mary until  he  knows  who  he  is  and  what  his  obligations 
are.  He  wouldn't  want  to,  and  he  mustn't.  I  think  I'll  talk 
to  him  right  now." 

"I'll  call  him.  He's  in  the  dining  room,  having  breakfast 
with  Patti."  She  got  up  and  went  to  the  swinging  door 
that  separated  the  rooms  and  paused  there,  her  hand  on 
the  glass  panel,  her  head  bowed.     (Continued  on  page  351 


09 


70 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  DAYLIGHT  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  DAYLIGHT  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


^E9              B*MFI^n 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Words  and  Music 

People's  Church 
Tone  Tapestries 

White  Rabbit  Line 

News 

Renfro  Valley  Folks 

Trinity  Choir  ot 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Bible  Highlights 

Voices  Down  The 
Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Negro  College  Choir 
Salt  Lake  Tabernacle 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 
12:30 
12:45 

World  Front  News 
Eternal  Light 

Pilgrim  Hour 
Lutheran  Hour 

Texas  Jim  Robertson 
On  Trial 

Invitation  to  Learning 
People's  Platform 

1:00 
1:15 

1:30 
1:45 

America  United 
Chicago  Round  Table 

William  L.  Shirer 
American  Radio 

Warblers 
Stan  Lomax 

Sam  Pettengill 
Stewart  Alsop,  News 

National  Vespers 

Doorway  To  Life 
Tell  It  Again 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Musical  Program 
Robert  Merrill 

Army  Air  Force 

Show 
Bill  Cunningham 
Veteran's  Information 

This  Week  Around 

the  World 
Mr.  President, 

Drama 

CBS  Is  There 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 
Elmo  Roper 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Eddy  Howard 
One  Man's  Family 

Ernie  Lee's  Omega 

Show 
Juvenile  Jury 

Lassie  Drama 
The  Almanac 
Sammy  Kaye 

CBS  Symphony 
Orch. 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

The  Quiz  Kids 

News 
Living — 1948 

House  of  Mystery 
True  Detective 

Speak  Up  America 
Thinking  Allowed 

Eileen  Farrell 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

Ford  Show 

The  Shadow 
Quick  As  A  Flash 

Treasury  Agent 
David  Harding 

Janette  Davis 
Here's  to  You 
Hour  of  Charm 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Hollywood  Star 
Preview 

Those  Websters 
Nick  Carter 

Drew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 
Greatest  Story  Ever 
Told 

Family  Hour 
Percy  Faith 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Jack  Benny 
Band  Wagon 

Sherlock  Holmes 

Behind  the  Front 
Page 

1  Love  Adventure 
The  Clock 

Gene  Autry 
Blondie 

8 

8 
8 
8 

00 
15 
30 
55 

Robert  Shaw's 

Chorale 
Fred  Allen 

A.  L.  Alexander 

Jimmie  Fuller 
Billy  Rose 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Man  Called  X 

9 
9 
9 
9 

00 
15 
30 
45 

Manhattan  Merry- 

Go-Round 
American  Album 

Meet  Me  at  Parky's 
Jim  Backus  Show 

Walter  Winchell 
Louella  Parsons 
Theatre  Guild 

Strike  It  Rich 

10 
10 
10 

00 
15 
30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Horace  Heidt 

Voice  of  Strings 

Latin  American 
Serenade 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Shorty  Bell  with 
Mickey  Rooney 
Escape 

MICHAEL  RAFFETTO  is  a  mem- 
ber of  the  California  Bar  Association 
and  of  the  cast  of  One  Man's  Family. 


EVE  YOUNG  wn0  is  heard  as  the 
singing  bridesmaid  on  NBC's  Honey- 
moon in  New  York,  Mondays  through 
Fridays  at  9:00  A.M.,EDT,  comes  from 
a  musical  family.  Sbe  has  two  sisters 
and  six  brothers,  all  of  whom  sing  and 
most  of  whom  can  play  several  instru- 
ments. Eve  acquired  her  singing  ex- 
perience  with  Joe   Reichman's   Band. 


w*m      n 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC     . 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Jack  Almand  Trio 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Oklahoma  Roundup 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Evelyn  Winters 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Kate's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Bill  Harrington 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  ot  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Luncheon  With  Lopez 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15. 

Happy  Ganq 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Today's  Children 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maqgi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Woman  in  White 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

The  Story  of  Holly 
Sloan 

Martin  Block  Show 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Rose  of  My  Dreams 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

Double  or  Nothing 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Paul  Whiteman  Club 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  AH 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Harold  Turner 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Dick  Tracy 

Liberty  Road 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Superman 

Terry  and  Pirates 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Captain  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
In  My  Opinion 
The  Chicagoans 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Mary  Osborn  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 
Jack  Smith 
Bob  Crosby  Show 
Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Cavalcade  of  America 
Voice  of  Firestone 

The  Falcon 

Charlie  Chan 
Billy  Rose 

Point  Sublime 
Sound  Off 

Inner  Sanctum 
Talent  Scouts 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Quiet  Please 

On  Stage  America 
Sammy  Kaye 

Lux  Radio  Theater 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 
Fred  Waring 

Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Dance  Orch. 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 

My  Friend  Irma 
Screen  Guild  Players 

RUSS  EMERY  started  his  singing 
career  after  graduating  from  high 
school  in  Pawtucket,  R.  I.  He  enlisted 
in  the  U.  S.  Marine  Corps  and  saw  ac- 
tive service  at  Guadalcanal.  Solomon 
Islands,  Guam  and  the  Marianas.  Af- 
ter the  war  he  sang  with  Dick  Stabile's 
orchestra.  He's  now  heard  on  Herd's 
To    You,    Sundays,    5:15    P.M..    EDT. 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 

8:45 

Jack  Almand  Trio 

9:00 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Editor's  Diary 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 

9:15 

Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Oklahoma  Roundup 

9:30 

Clevelandaires 

9:45 

Nelson  Olmsted 

10:00 

Fred  Waring 

Cecil  Brown 

My  True  Story 

Music  For  You 

10:15 

Faith  In  Our  Time 

10:30 

Road  of  Lite 

Say  It  With  Music 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine Of  The  Air 

Evelyn  Winters 

10:45 

Joyce  Jordan 

Listening  Post 

David  Harum 

11:00 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

Bill  Harrington 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Arthur  Godfrey 

11:15 

Kate's  Daughter 

Tell  Your  Neighbor 

11:30 

Jack  Berch 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

Grand  Slam 

11:45 

Lora  Lawton 

Ted  Malone 

Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

C3S 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

The  Trumpeteers 
Jack  Almand  Trio 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Oklahoma  Roundup 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Evelyn  Winters 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
Kate's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Bill  Harrington 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Today's  Children 
Voman  in  White 
?tory  of  Holly  Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Rose  of  My  Dreams 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Harold  Turner 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 
Capt.  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Tales  of  Adventure 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  ot  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 

The  Guidinq  Light 

Jamboree 

2:00 

Today's  Children 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Woman  in  White 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Story  of  Holly 
Sloan 

The  Martin  Block 
Show 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Rose  ot  My  Dreams 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

Double  Or  Nothing 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Paul  Whiteman  Club 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Harold  Turner 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Dick  Tracy 

March  of  Science 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Superman 

Terry  and  Pirates 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Captain  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:45   |Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Talks 

The  Chicagoans 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Adrian  Rollini  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Arthur  Gaeth 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 
Jack  Smith 
Bob  Crosby  Show 
Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

8:55 

Dennis  Day 

Encore  Theater 
High  Adventure 
Silly  Rose 

Mayor  of  The  Town 
Vox  Pop 

American  Melody 

Hour 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Racket  Smashers 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Go  For  the  House 

Mark  Warnow 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 
Jimmy  Durante 

Opinion-Aire 
California  Melodies 

Comedy  Writers 

Show 
Gordon  MacRae 

The  Whistler 
Open  Hearing 

6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Frontiers  of  Science 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

The  Chicagoans 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith 

7:30 

Lennie  Herman 
Quintet 

Newscope 

Green  Hornet  Drama 

Bob  Crosby  Show 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Dina1!  Shore,  Harry 
Jimes  and  Johnny 

Mysterious  Traveler 

Youth  Asks  the 
Government 

Big  Town 

8:15        Mercer 

Edwin  D.  Cantham 

8:30 

A  Date  With  Judy 

Official  Detective 

America's  Town 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

9:00 

Amos  'n'  Andy 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

Boston  Pops  Orch. 

9:30 

Fibber  McGee  and 

Zane  Grey 

Christopher  Wells 

9:45 

Molly 

10:00 

Bob  Hope 

Let  Freedom  Ring 

Studio  One 

10:15 

10:30 

Red  Skelton 

Dance  Orchestra 

It's  In  The  Family 

71 


H9I  iJKBMHNH|HB 

31UKJ 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Jack  Almand  Trio 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Oklahoma  Roundup 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  for  You 
Evelyn  Winters 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Katie's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Bill  Harrington 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

ARLENE  FRANCIS -was  reared  in  a 
stimulating  family  environment — her 
father  is  the  well-known  portrait  photog- 
rapher Aram  Kazanjian,  and  her  uncle 
is  a  Harvard  professor.  Arlehe  was 
m.c.on  Phil  Spitalny's  all-girl  orchestra 
for  39  weeks.  She  was  the  first  wo- 
man ever  permitted  to  announce  the 
name  of  the  network  at  the  station 
hreak. She's  on  the  air  with  Ben  Grauer, 
Sundays  at  9:00  P.M.,  EDT,  on  ABC. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Today's  Children 

Queen  for  a  Day 

Maggi  McNeills 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Woman  in  White 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Story  of  Holly  Sloan 

Martin  Block  Show 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Rose  of  My  Dreams 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

Double  or  Nothing 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Paul  Whiteman  Club 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Harold  Turner 

5:00 

When  a  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Dick  Tracy 

Gateways  to  Music 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Superman 

Terry  and  Pirates 

5:30 
5:45 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Captain  Midnight 

Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Of  Men  and  Books 

6:30 

Local  Program 

Local  Programs 

The  Chicagoans 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith 

7:30 

Lawrence  Welk 

Newscope 

Henry  Morgan  Show 

Bob  Crosby  Show 

7:45 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Aldrich  Family 

Revere  Revue 

Front  Page 

The  F.B.I,  in  Peace 

8:15 

Background  For 
Stardom 

and  War 

8:30 

Geo.  Burns  and 
Gracie  Allen 

Talent  Hunt 

Ellery  Queen 

Mr.  Keen 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

9:00 

Al  Jolson 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Willie  Piper 

Dick  Haynies 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Jack  Carson  and 

RFD  America 

Candid  Microphone 

Crime  Photographer 

9:45 

Eve  Arden 

10:00 

Bob  Hawk  Show 

Family  Theatre 

Child's  World 

Reader's  Digest 

10:15 

Radio  Edition 

10:30 

Eddie  Cantor 

The  First  Nighter 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Jack  Almand  Trio 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Oklahoma  Roundup 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  for  You 
Evelyn  Winters 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Katie's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Bill  Harrington 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Campus  Salute 

Welcome  travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

V 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Today's  Children 
Woman  in  White 
Story  of  Holly  Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  for  a  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  is  Nora  Drake 
Rose  of  My  Dreams 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 

Harold  Turner 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  a  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 
Captain  Midnight 
Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Opinion  Please 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  V  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


ROBERT  SHAW -left  Pomona  C„ 
lege,  California,  in  1938  to  direct  the 
Fred  Waring  Glee  Club  and  remained 
with  Waring  until  1945.  During  that 
period,  he  also  directed  a  choral  group 
for  Billy  Rose's  Aquacade  at  the  New 
York  World's  Fair  in  1939  and  1940. 
He  is  choral  director  for  RCA-Victor 
and  for  the  Juilliard  School  of  Music 
in  New  York.  Listen  to  his  superb 
Robert  Shaw  Chorale  (30  voices)  on 
Sundays  at  8:00  P.M.,  EDT,  on  NBC 


6:t)0 

News 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Local  Programs 

Report  from  the 
United  Nations 

6:30 

Songs  By  Jean 
McKenna 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith 

7:30 

Mary  Osborne  Trio 

Henry  J.  Taylor 

Lone  Ranger 

Bob  Crosby  Show 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Highways  in  Melody 

Burl  Ives 

The  Fat  Man 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

8:15 

Alan  Dale  Show 

8:30 

Can  You  Top  This 

Leave  It  to  the  Girls 

This  Is  Your  FBI 

Danny  Thomas 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

9:00 

People  Are  Funny 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Break  the  Bank 

Morgan,  Ameche. 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

Langford 

9:30 

Waltz  Time 

Information  Please 

The  Sheriff 

Adventures  of  Ozzie 

9:45 

and  Harriet 

10:00  1  Mystery  Theater 

Meet  the  Press 

Boxing  Bouts 

Dinah  Shore-  Harry 

10:15 

James  Show 

10:30 

Sports 

Tex  Beneke 

Spotlight  Revue 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurlcigh 
Practical  Gardner 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Songs  for  You 

Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Frank  Merriwell 
Archie  Andrews 

Dixie  Four  Quartet 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Hollywood  Headlines 
Saturday  Strings 

The  Garden  Gate 
Washington  Wives 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Land  of  the  Lost 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Arthur  Barriault 
Public  Affairs 

Coffee  With  Congress 

Misc.  Programs 
This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 
Pro  Arte  Quartet 

Junior  Junction 
American  Farmer 

Theatre  of  Today 
Stars  Over  Hollywood 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Edmond  Tomlinson 
Report  From  Europe 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Symphonies  for 
Youth 

Maggi  McNeills, 

Herb  Sheldon 

Speaking  of  Songs 

Grand  Central  Sta. 
County  Fair 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Music  For  The 

Moment 
Salute  to  Veterans 

Fascinating  Rhythm 
Hitching  Post  Variety 

Give  and  Take 
Country  Journal 

3:00 
3:15 

3:30 
3:45 

Orchestras  of  the 
Nation 

Hospitality  Club 
Sports  Parade 

Piano  Playhouse 

ABC  Symphony 
Orch. 

Report  from  Overseas 
Adventures  in 

Science 
Cross-Section  U.S.A. 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Doctors  Today 
First  Piano  Quartet 

Horse  Race 
Charles  Slocum 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

Sports  in  Review 

Sports  Broadcasts 

Make  Way  For 
Youth 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 

5:45 

Swanee  River  Boys 
Three  Suns  Trio 
Dr.  I.  Q.  Jr. 

King  Cole  Trio 

Lone  Wolf 
True  or  False 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 
Dorothy  Guldheim 

Local  Programs 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

Peter  Roberts 

Religion  in  the  News 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Vagabonds'  Quartet 

Bible  Messages 
Harry  Wismer 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

In  My  Opinion 

Red  Barber  Sports 
Show 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Curtain  Time 

Hawaii  Calls 

Newscope 
Twin  Views  of  the 
News 

Quisdom  Class 

Challenge  of  the 
Yukon 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

Abe  Burrows 
Hoagy  Carmichael 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Life  of  Riley 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Ross  Dolan, 
Detective 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Robert  Montgomery. 
Suspense 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Keeping  Up  With 

the  Kids 
What's  the  Name 

of  That  Song 

Gangbusters 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Joan  Davis  Time 
Vaughn  Monroe 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Kav  Kyser 
Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theater  of  the  Air 

Professor  Quiz 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Saturday  Night 
Serenade 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

ROBERT  Q.  LEWIS—  brightens 
afternoon  listening  five  days  a  week 
with  spontaneous  humor  and  variety 
on  CBS  at  5:00  P.M,  EDT.  Bob's 
greatest  source  of  humorous  situations 
and  gags  is  newspapers.  His  philoso- 
phy— "if  you  aren't  versed  in  a  subject, 
say  so  .  .  .  you'll  get  along  better  that 
way,  especially  during  radio  inter- 
views" His  hobby  is  collecting  Indian 
totem  poles    He  has  24  so  far. 


The  Sparton  1003  radio- 
phonograph  combination. 


Finding  a  radio-phono- 
graph combination  to 
go  into  an  Early  Ameri- 
can room  is  a  bit  of  a 
problem  unless  you've  al- 
ready seen  Sparton's  Early 
American  chest  in  mahog- 
any veneer.  Opening  the 
doors  of  the  Sparton  Model 
1003,  you'll  find  an  AM-FM 
radio,  an  automatic  record 
player  and  twin  matched 
speakers.  There's  also 
ample  storage  space  for 
record  albums. 


All-purpose  Recordio  Towne: 
about 


If  you've  been  building 
your  record  collection  at  a 
fast  pace,  try  the  Peerless 
Visible  Index  Album.  The 
titles  of  the  records  in  the 
album  are  written  or  typed 
on  a  ruled  strip  so  that  the 
contents  can  be  seen  at  a 
glance.  The  index  is  under 
cellophane  and  can  be 
easily  removed.  An  extra 
ruled  strip  is  supplied  with 
every  album.  10-inch  al- 
bum is  $2.00,  12-inch,  $2.20. 
Each    holds    12    records. 


A  Sentinel  Midget,  for 
that  important  extra. 


Again  the  Sparton   1003, 
being    Early    American. 


Making  your  own  rec- 
ords, either  of  your  fa- 
vorite radio  program  or 
your  own  voice,  can  be  a 
fascinating  hobby.  A 
home  recorder  that  is 
also  combined  with  a 
record  player,  an  AM- 
FM  radio  and  a  beautiful 
bleached  mahogany 
cabinet,  is  the  Recordio 
Towne.  This  set  records 
on  discs  and  features 
push  button  selection  of 
program      or      recorder. 


The  Peerless  Visible 

Index  Album  tells  all. 


A  modestly  priced 
small  radio  that  is  perfect 
for  that  "extra  set"  use 
in  bedroom,  guest  room 
or  kitchen,  is  the  Sentinel 
model  314-E.  This  midget 
is  actually  an  AC-DC 
superheterodyne  set  with 
a  built-in  aerial.  It  con- 
tains a  5-inch  speaker 
and  comes  in  a  stream- 
lined ebony  bakelite  cab- 
inet. It's  quite  low  priced, 
which  makes  it  even  bet- 
ter. 


73 


Is  Lou  Costello  on  the  Level? 


the  kids,"  executive  director  Felix 
Gomez  told  me.  "His  temperament  is 
just  suited  for  them.  He  seems  to  have 
as  good  a  time  as  they  when  he  is  with 
them.  He  gets  out  on  the  field  and  plays 
ball  with  them,  goes  on  the  merry-go- 
round  with  them,  pushes  them  in  the 
swings,  holds  them  in  his  arms,  rubs 
noses  with  them.  The  truth  is  that  they 
never  regard  him  as  their  benefactor. 
They  look  on  him  more  as  a  good- 
natured,  playful  big  brother." 

The  letterhead  of  the  Lou  Costello 
Junior  Youth  Foundation  boasts  mighty 
impressive  nomenclature  —  Costello  is 
there  as  president,  and  his  sidekick, 
Bud  Abbott  right  behind  as  secretary- 
treasurer.  Judge  Samuel  R.  Blake,  who 
presided  for  many  years  over  the  Los 
Angeles  Juvenile  Court,  is  listed  as 
vice-president;  Judge  William  B.  Mc- 
Kesson, a  member  of  the  California 
Youth  Authority  and  another  former 
Juvenile  Court  jurist,  is  down  as  second 
vice-president. 

Judges,  police  officials,  educators,  re- 
ligious leaders,  public  office  holders 
and  important  civic  figures  are  on  the 
roster  as  directors  and  advisory  board 
members. 

In  spite  of  the  attacks  on  Costello, 
they've  all  remained.  The  rumors 
have  failed  to  produce  one  resignation 
from  the  ranks! 

Two  pertinent  questions  should  be 
asked:  How  did  Lou  Costello  get  into 
this?    What  has  he  gotten  out  of  it? 

Costello  did  not  conceive  of  the 
Youth  Foundation,  as  is  commonly 
supposed,  out  of  grief  for  his  son,  Lou 
Costello,  Jr.,  who  drowned  at  the  age 
of  one  in  October  1943  in  the  family 
swimming  pool  in  San  Fernando  Val- 
ley. The  idea  had  been  born  before 
the  tragedy — in  a  bed  of  pain. 

In  March  of  1943,  Lou  Costello  was 
a  very  sick  man.  Rheumatic  fever  con- 
fined him  to  bed.  Hundreds  of  letters 
from  young  fans,  many  suffering  the 
same  ailment,  piled  up.  When  the 
acute  pain  abated  somewhat,  Lou  read 
the  mail  from  the  kids.  He  confessed  to 
Bud  Abbott  the  straight  man  of  the 
comedy  team,  how  deeply  he  had  been 
touched.  He  wanted  to  show  his  ap- 
preciation. Why  not  open  a  lavish 
community  recreation  center  for  kids? 

Seven  months  later — in  October — 
Lou  was  able  to  get  out  of  bed  for  the 
first  time  since  he  had  been  stricken. 
Throughout  his  convalescence,  he  had 
broadened    plans    for    a    youth    center. 


(Continued  from  page  39) 

The  day  the  barrel-bodied  laugh- 
maker  left  his  bed  was  the  day  that 
his   son  drowned. 

Many  in  their  despair  would  have 
forsaken  the  youth  project.  Costello 
was  more  determined  than  ever.  Abbott 
tried  to  comfort  his  partner.  He  sug- 
gested naming  the  projected  foundation 
after  Lou  Costello  Junior. 

"It  would  be  a  living  memorial  to 
the  boy,"  Bud  said. 

That's  how  Costello  got  into  youth 
work.  That's  how  the  institution  got 
its  name. 

What  has  he  gotten  out  of  it? 

Many  things.  Fun,  without  doubt. 
For  it  is  no  hardship  for  Costello  to 
be  among  kids.  He  loves  them.  Satis- 
faction, plenty  of  it.  What  man 
wouldn't  surge  with  pride  to  see  a 
grand  scheme  conceived  in  illness  grow 
into  a  pulsing  reality  covering  three 
city  acres?  Bills,  loads  of  them.  Ask 
the  men  who  keep  the  books.  Problems, 
too,  by  the  dozens. 

And  publicity,  to  be  sure.  Without 
publicity  no  such  endeavor  could  hope 
to  carry  on  effectively.  The  foundation 
thrives  on  publicity,  and  since  it 
carries  Lou's  name  there  is  no  way 
short  of  mock  modesty  that  he  can 
avoid  sharing  in  it. 

Six  months  after  the  vast  recreation 
and  character  building  center  opened 
its  doors,  the  Los  Angeles  Police  De- 
partment announced  a  17  per  cent  de- 
crease in  juvenile  delinquency  for  the 
area  served  by   the  foundation. 

In  Hollywood  recently,  a  national 
charity  in  no  way  connected  with  the 
youth  foundation,  held  a  meeting 
among  figures  prominent  in  the  film 
city  and  called  for  pledges.  A  re- 
nowned entertainer  jumped  out  of  his 
seat  and  yelled,  "I  will  raise  a  million 
dollars  for  the  fund." 

"I  don't  want  to  know  what  you're 
going  to  raise,"  the  chairman  said.  "I 
want  to  know  what  you're  going  to 
give." 

Lou  Costello  measures  up  to  that 
blunt  yardstick.  He  and  Bud  Abbott 
have  done  more  than  barnstorm  the 
country  raising  funds  for  the  youth 
foundation.  They  have  contributed 
funds.  Gotten  them  up  out  of  their 
own  pockets. 

Seventy-five  per  cent  of  the  $350,000 
that  erected  the  main  building,  swim- 
ming pool  and  playing  fields  of  the 
foundation  came  from  Abbott  and  Cos- 
tello's own  purses. 


How  Does  a  Wife  Feel  When  She  Sees  Her 

Husband  Leap  to  His  Death? 

Hear  Lorraine  Rhodes'  Dramatic   Story  on  the 

June   15th  Broadcast   of 


•V 


74 


"WE  THE  PEOPLE 

The  program   of   true   experiences   of  real  people 

9:00  p.m.  EDST   CSS 

Read  the  whole,  heart-stopping  "I  WATCHED  MY  HUSBAND  DIE" 
in    July     TRUE  EXPERIENCE    Magazine,    now    on    sale. 


They  rolled  up  their  sleeves  and  laid 
down  their  greenbacks.  They  scoured 
vast  Los  Angeles  from  one  end  to  the 
other  for  months  before  they  found  a 
suitable  site  in  the  teeming  Hollenbeck- 
Boyle  Heights  section,  sore  spot  of  the 
city's  substandard  east  side.  There 
was  where  the  need  and  the  challenge 
were  greatest.  There  poverty  and 
minority  identity  were  sending  hun- 
dreds of  children  daily  into  the  lists  of 
the  delinquent.  There  property  own- 
ers were  suffering  the  greatest  damage 
from  vandalism.  There  heartbroken 
parents  were  suffering  greatest  damage 
from  wayward  offspring. 

There  the  cry  of  anguish  was  heard 
louder  than  anywhere  else  in  the  City 
of  Angels.  Crime  and  accident  were 
taking  an  enormous  daily  toll  among 
the  young.  Amidst  taut  group  tensions, 
in  common  poverty  and  squalor,  eigh- 
teen nationalities  lived  side  by  side, 
among  them  youngsters  of  Mexican, 
Japanese,  Chinese,  Filipino,  Negro, 
Spanish,  Russian,  English,  Italian, 
Armenian  and  English  origin. 

If  the  public,  accustomed  to  hit-and- 
run  philanthropists  who  snip  a  tape  at 
a  widely  hailed  dedication  or  dig  up  a 
shovel  full  of  dirt  at  a  cornerstone 
planting  while  newsreel  cameras  grind, 
is  given  to  skepticism,  it  cannot  be 
blamed. 

Costello  was  no  fair  weather  bene- 
factor. He  came  to  dedicate,  true,  but 
he  remained  to  sweat  and  serve  and 
subsidize.  Keeping  the  foundation 
going  for  the  past  two  years  has  kept 
Costello  one  step  ahead  of  the  sheriff. 
To  meet  the  obligations  he  assumed, 
he  has  had  to  take  on  such  an  inten- 
sive work  schedule  that  his  doctors 
refuse  to  be  responsible  for  the  con- 
sequences. 

Not  only  does  Costello  believe  in  the 
work  of  the  foundation.  He  lives  it, 
breathes  it,  and,  no  doubt,  dreams  it. 

It  is  out  of  Costello's  own  thinking 
that  the  foundation  inscribed  for  all 
to  see  its  democratic  purpose: 

"All  who  come  here  have  been  cre- 
ated equal,  and  will  be  given  equal 
privileges  regardless  of  race,  color  or 
creed." 

Nor  is  this  an  empty  statement  of 
philosophy.  No  more  polyglot  group 
lives  so  harmoniously  under  one  roof 
anywhere.  The  institution  is  run 
strictly  along  lines  of  democratic  self- 
government.  The  children  enact  and 
enforce  their  own  rules.  They  run  the 
foundation  like  a  little  city.  They  hold 
elections  for  posts  on  the  junior  board 
of  directors,  for  mayor,  common 
council,  prosecuting  attorney,  city 
judge,  business  manager  and  treasurer. 

For  many  months  the  foundation's 
future  was  in  doubt.  Costello's  funds 
had  run  low.  Financial  support  from 
the  general  public  had  been  disap- 
pointing. Aware  of  the  comedian's 
plight,  several  well  known  organized 
charities  offered  repeatedly  to  take 
over  the  financial  obligations  of  the 
foundation.  Representatives  of  these 
groups  pleaded  with  Costello  that  it 
was  too  much  of  a  burden  for  him  to 
bear  by  himself.  They  assured  him  that 
the  operation,  name  and  principles  of 
the  foundation  would  not  be  changed. 

Here  was  an  easy,  honorable  way  out 
for  Costello,  but  he  rejected  it  flatly. 

His  business  manager  and  friends 
tried  to  persuade  him  to  reconsider. 
Costello  blew  his  top.  "You  can  all  quit 
anytime  you  like,"  (.Cont'd  on  page  76) 


^Afiss  Mover  bujPojvt 


Her  lovely  face  speaks  joyously  for  this  charming  young  daughter 

of  Wilmington's  first  family 


(^\  c/our  s&tn  /oo&s  wonder/a/  after  tAts 
Oatsic/e-fmtc/e  /ace  treatment  1. 


^f/zg^ft 


lhe  Inner  You  shining  through  is  what 
makes  your  face  something  special  and  dis- 
tinctive. But — never  belittle  the  way  a 
truly  lovely  skin  sends  this  face  of  yours  to 
meet  the  world  with  glowing  charm  and  a 
happy  confidence. 

A  New  Face  Treatment 
Like  a  window  your  skin  has  two  sides — and 
caring  for  one  only  is  not  enough.  Pond's 
— from  the  constant  study  of  the  needs  of 
facial  skin — now  brings  you  this  stimulat- 
ing "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment  that 
acts  on  both  sides  of  your  skin  at  once. 

From  the  Outside — Pond's  Cold  Cream  is 
the  tool  you  use.  It  wraps  softly  around  dirt, 
dry  skin  particles  as  you  massage — sweeps 
them  cleanly  away  as  you  tissue  off. 

From  the  Inside — this  treatment  stimulates 
skin  circulation  in  every  step.  Tiny  blood 
vessels  quicken  to  greater  activity. 


At  bedtime  always  (and  for  day  face-cleans- 
ings,  too) — give  your  skin  Pond's  "Out- 
side-Inside" Face  Treatment — like  this: 
Hot  Stimulation 

Press  face  cloth,  comfortably  hot  and  wet, 
against  your  face — to  stimulate  blood  flow 
to  your  skin. 

Two  Creamings — to  "condition''''  sfiin 

1)  Cleanse  .  .  .  Work  Pond's  Cold  Cream 


briskly  over  warm,  damp  face  to  sweep 
dirt  from  pore  openings.  Tissue  off  well.- 

2)  Rinse  .  .  .  With  more  Pond's  massage 
briskly  to  rinse  off  last  traces  of  dirt, 
smooth  the  day's  tired  lines.  Tissue   off. 

Cold  Stimulation 

A  tonic  splash  of  cold  water. 

Now  .  .  .  see  the  new  look  in  your  face ! 
Sparkling  cleanness!  Velvet  softness! 
Cheeks  sweet  and  pink!  You'll  never  want 
to  skip  this  face  treatment — because  it 
really  ivorks! 

Remember  .  .  .  the  YOU  that  others 
see  first  is  in  your  face 

It  is  not  just  vanity  to  develop  the  beauty  of 
your  oicn  face.  When  you  look  lovely,  you 
gain  in  confidence,  glowing  charm.  Everyone 
you  meet  responds — warmly.  The  true  inner 
YOU  is  brought  closer  to  others. 


More  women  use  Pond's  than  any  other  face  cream 


R 
M 

75 


76 


*         *         *         *         * 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
'  any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed  —  so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance'' don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39(  plus  tax. 

(Advertisement) 
*  *  •  *  * 


{Continued  from  page  74)  he  roared, 
"but  I'm  not  quitting.  I  started  this 
thing  and  I'm  going  to  see  it  through  if 
it  costs  me  my  last  cent." 

Nobody  quit. 

A  dream  of  four  years — a  radio  pro- 
gram fighting  juvenile  delinquency  by 
glorifying  democracy  and  good  citizen- 
ship— was  realized  in  December,  '47 
when  ABC  donated  a  coast-to-coast  half 
hour  every  Saturday  morning  for  The 
Abbott  and  Costello  Kid  Show. 

Format  of  this  program  was  worked 
out  by  Lou  and  his  bulky,  good  na- 
tured  kid-show  producer  and  writer, 
Ed  Forman,  four  years  earlier  when 
a  cigarette  company  was  sponsoring 
The  Abbott  and  Costello  Show.  While 
the  comedians  were  playing  an  Army 
camp  in  Tucson,  Arizona,  Lou  and 
Forman  developed  the  details. 

Costello  couldn't  wait  to  get  going. 
But  the  sponsor  vetoed  the  package. 
The  company  did  not  want  to  court 
public  wrath  by  permitting  a  children's 
program  to  be  associated  with  ciga- 
rettes. 

When  Abbott  and  Costello  moved 
over  to  ABC  in  1947  on  a  cooperatively 
sponsored  transcontinental  half  hour 
show  Wednesday  evenings,  Costello  re- 
vived the  kid  show  idea. 

Costello,  Forman  and  ABC  West 
Coast  officials,  J.  Donald  Wilson  and 
Bud  Edwards,  met  at  Costello's  Holly- 
wood home.  The  ABC  emissaries 
snapped  up  the  project  as  a  public 
service. 

Lou  came  to  the  studios  early  and 
remained  late  so  that  he  could  spend 
more  time  with  the  children.  He 
walked  up  and  down  the  aisles,  scoop- 
ing infants  into  his  arms,  playing  with 
the  kids,  joking  with  them  and  con- 
versing with  them,  beaming  all  the 
time  with  unashamed  pleasure.  He  did 
these  things,  mind  you,  when  there 
was  not  a  reporter  or  cameraman  with- 
in miles  of  the  studio. 

Several  months  after  the  kid  show 
made  its  debut,  a  candy  company  con- 
sidered sponsoring  the  program.  Ab- 
bott and  Costello  recorded  a  sample 
commercial  for  the  prospective  client. 

Costello  stepped  to  the  footlights. 

"Folks,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to 
know  that  if  this  show  gets  a  sponsor, 
Abbott  and  I  will  turn  over  our  entire 
share  to  the  Lou  Costello  Junior  Youth 
Foundation." 

That  was  not  a  grandstand  play.  It 
is  a  standing  offer. 

Up  to  now  the  candy  deal  has  not 
materialized.  There  have  been  other 
bids  by  sponsors,  but  Lou  has  turned 
them    down    because    they    have    de- 


manded changes  in  the  format.  Lou 
will  not  sell  the  show  unless  he  gets 
contractual  assurance  that  the  two 
spots  of  particular  interest  to  children 
remain  intact. 

These  are  the  "Bubble  or  Nothing" 
quiz  and  the  Lou  Costello  Junior  Youth 
Foundation  weekly  award  for  good 
citizenship  and  heroism. 

To  raise  sorely  needed  funds  for  the 
foundation,  and  to  extend  its  work  to 
other  cities  throughout  the  country,  the 
kid  show  launched  a  super-giveaway 
contest  in  February.  A  live  baby  ele- 
phant, a  four-seater  airplane,  an  auto- 
mobile, a  house  trailer  and  a  mink  coat 
were  among  the  avalanche  of  prizes 
exceeding  $30,000  in  value  which  were 
dangled  to  encourage  letters,  with  or 
without  donations,  beginning  with  the 
sentence,  "I  want  to  help  fight  juvenile 
delinquency  because.  .  .  ." 

Ed  Forman  was  excited  over  the 
contest's  fund-raising  potentialities. 
Costello  was  loath  to  rely  too  much 
upon  it. 

"You'll  be  surprised,"  Forman  told 
Costello,  "at  how  many  letters  there 
will  be  with  contributions  of  $25  and 
over." 

Costello  bit  at  the  end  of  his  cigar. 

"I'll  tell  you  what,  Ed,"  he  said.  "You 
show  me  any  contribution  for  $25  or 
more,  and  I'll  match  it." 

I  checked  with  Forman  to  learn  if 
Costello  had  taken  his  promise  seri- 
ously. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,"  Forman  en- 
lightened me,  "I  had  forgotten  about  it, 
and  Lou  reminded  me.  He  has  equalled 
every  donation  of  $25  or  more." 

Costello  could  live  comfortably  on 
income  from  testimonials  and  record- 
ings alone  if  he  did  not  channel  these 
funds  to  the  foundation. 

To  quote  a  contemporary  from  the 
public  prints: 

"Lou  Costello  ...  is  running  a  Youth 
Foundation  in  this  town  that  is  doing 
wonders  for  underprivileged  kids.  Lou 
is  not  running  this  joint  for  publicity. 
It  has  cost  him  a  young  fortune.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  the  expenses  are  so 
tremendous  at  the  moment  that  he  can- 
not pack  the  load  alone  and  the  place 
is  in  the  process  of  folding.  If  that 
happened  it  would  be  a  disgrace  to  the 
citizens  of  this  community." 

It  hasn't  happened,  and  will  not 
happen,  and  the  community  is  not  in 
disgrace.  But  what  is  possibly  more 
significant  is  that  these  are  words  from 
the  typewriter  of  the  same  columnist 
who  turned  on  Lou  a  month  later. 

Is  Lou  Costello  on  the  level?  What 
do  you  think? 


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Bride  and  Groom 


chosen  as  a  candidate  is  only  the  first 
of  many  steps.  After  that  comes  a  series 
of  meetings  before  the  committee  from 
the  Tournament  of  Roses.  As  the  meet- 
ings progress,  the  number  of  candidates 
grows  less  and  less,  until  finally  only 
twenty  of  the  most  charming  and  most 
intelligent  girls  are  left. 

Then  comes  the  final  elimination — for 
only  seven  of  the  final  twenty  can  be 
chosen  for  the  royal  court,  six  as  prin- 
cesses and  one  for  the  coveted  role  of 
queen.  The  odds  were  high,  but 
Norma's  beauty  made  the  judges'  final 
decision  almost  a  certainty — and  it  was 
she  who  was  escorted  to  the  Rose 
Queen's  throne  at  the  Coronation  Cere- 
mony, a  few  days  before  the  world- 
famous  parade  of  the  Tournament  of 
Roses. 

Those  were  busy  days  for  Queen 
Norma — ruling  at  the  Coronation  Ball 
and  other  tournament  ceremonies,  being 
guest  of  honor  at  social  and  civic  func- 
tions, riding  on  the  Tournament  of 
Roses  float  in  the  long  and  colorful 
parade. 


W! 


[HEN  a  queen  is  young  and  beautiful, 
there  is  no  lack  of  suitors — and 
Norma — accompanied  by  her  appointed 
chaperone,  Mrs.  Maude  Prickett — was 
soon  being  squired  by  the  town's  most 
eligible  young  men.  After  all,  what  man 
wouldn't  like  to  be  seen  with  a  girl  who 
was  the  center  of  all  attention,  and 
whose  lovely  face  seen  in  newsreels  was 
evoking  admiring  "ohs"  and  "ahs"? 

There  was  one  young  Pasadena  man, 
however,  who  wasn't  competing  for  the 
honor  of  escorting  Queen  Norma,  even 
though  he  could  have  quite  easily  ar- 
ranged an  introduction.  He  was  Donald 
Winton,  a  young  sculptor  who  was  un- 
der commission  by  the  Tournament  of 
Roses  to  make  a  "portrait  in  clay"  of 
the  queen  at  each  annual  affair. 

"I  didn't  dislike  queens,"  explained 
Donald,  "but  I'd  worked  with  girls  who 
had  been  chosen  for  similar  honors  at 
other  events,  and — well,  sometimes  it 
changes  them.  You  know,  they  take  the 
role  of  'Her  Highness'  too  seriously,  and 
sort  of  begin  to  think  of  the  rest  of  us 
as  peasants." 

That  was  in  Donald's  mind  the  day 
he  went  to  Norma's  home  to  keep  the 
appointment  that  had  been  arranged  by 
the  tournament  officials.  She'd  be  young 
and  beautiful,  yes,  which  meant  it 
would  be  easy  for  his  talented  fingers 
to  mold  an  attractive  head;  but  there 
was  a  good  chance  that  she'd  also  be 
hopelessly  spoiled,  perhaps  tempera- 
mental, or  even  unpleasantly  conceited. 

Answering  the  door,  Norma  was  also 
doing  some  thinking.  The  tournament 
official  had  said  someone  would  call  to 
"do  her  portrait" — probably  an  elderly 
artist,  loaded  down  with  easel  and 
brushes  and  paints  and  temperament. 

But  when  the  door  opened  there  was 
no  elderly  artist,  no  sign  of  paints  or 
brushes  or  easel.  Instead,  there  was  a 
tall  and  handsome  young  man,  a 
strange-looking  crock  tucked  carelessly 
under  one  arm.  Wait  a  minute — not  one 
young  man  but  two  .  .  .  and  so  identical 
that  for  a  moment  Norma  wondered  if 
the  hectic  activities  as  queen  had  af- 
fected her  eyes. 
R  The  young  man   introduced  himself, 

H  "I'm  Donald  Winton,  and  this  is  my 
brother,  Ross."  Twin  brother,  it  was 
obvious,  thought  Norma  as  she  invited 
them  inside. 


(Continued  from  page  51) 

Remembering  that  first  meeting,  Don 
says,  "From  the  moment  she  greeted  us, 
I  knew  that  here  was  no  spoiled  or  con- 
ceited girl,  but  a  young  lady  who  was 
as  lovely  a  person  as  she  was  charming 
and  beautiful." 

Don  explained  that  the  "portrait"  was 
to  be  in  clay,  and  solved  the  mystery 
of  the  crock  by  opening  it  and  taking 
out  a  huge  lump  of  clay  with  which  he 
was  to  model  Norma's  head.  He  seemed 
strangely  silent  as  he  went  about  mold- 
ing the  first  outlines.  Not  his  twin 
brother,  though.  Ross  was  frankly  ad- 
miring as  he  watched  Norma  turn  her 
head  this  way  and  that  at  Don's  direc- 
tions. 

"We  kid  a  lot,"  he  said  to  Don,  "but 
if  you  can  capture  even  one-hundredth 
of  that  beauty  in  a  mass  of  clay,  I'll 
personally  nominate  you  as  the  world's 
finest  artist!" 

Afternoon  shadows  caused  Don  to  end 
the  first  sitting,  but  he  made  arrange- 
ments to  return  the  following  day.  "And 
I'll  be  with  him,"  Ross  assured  Norma. 

And  he  was  with  him,  not  only  for 
the  second  sitting,  but  for  the  third, 
and  fourth,  and  fifth.  "It  was  fun  hav- 
ing Ross  there,"  says  Norma.  "Don  was 
so  completely  concentrated  on  the 
sculptoring  that  all  he  ever  said  was, 
'Hold  it,  please,'  or  'Tilt  your  head  to 
the  left  .  .  .  hold  it.'  But  Ross  was  a 
wonderful  conversationalist,  and  before 
long  he  and  I  seemed  like  old  friends. 
I  kept  noticing  that  Don  would  look  at 
me  strangely,  but  explained  it  to  myself 
by  saying  he  was  interested  in  me  only 
as  a  model." 

"It  might  have  been  easier  for  my 
art — and  my  heart — if  that  had  been 
true,"  laughed  Don.  "Instead,  I  was 
falling  head  over  heels  in  love  with  her. 
Not  only  because  she  was  undoubtedly 
the  most  beautiful  girl  I  had  ever 
known,  but  every  minute  with  her 
proved  that  she  was  also  the  nicest." 

FINALLY,  the  "portrait  in  clay"  was 
done — done  so  excellently  and  with 
such  feeling  that  expert  judges  pro- 
nounced it  the  finest  ever  done  of  a 
Tournament  of  Roses  queen. 

"I  thought  that  would  be  the  end  of 
our  acquaintance,"  said  Norma,  "but 
Don  surprised  me  by  asking  if  he  could 
continue  the  sitting — he  wanted  to  make 
a  duplicate  figure.  I  think  that  was  the 
first  hint  I  had  that  he  was  interested 
in  me  other  than  as  a  model  for  his 
work.  And  suddenly  I  realized  some- 
thing that  I  think  I'd  known  all  the 
time — it  was  Don,  even  as  busy  and 
silent  as  he  had  been,  who  had  made 
me  look  forward  to  each  day's  sitting. 
Ross  and  I  were  wonderful  friends — 
but  somehow  I  knew  that  Don  and  I 
could  be  more  than  just  friends.  I  tried 
to  keep  my  voice  casual  as  I  told  him 
I'd  be  glad  to  sit  for  another  portrait  in 
clay." 

By  this  time  Norma  and  the  twin 
brothers  were  on  a  very  friendly  foot- 
ing, and  each  afternoon  usually  ended 
with  their  driving  down  to  one  of  the 
nearby  beaches  for  a  swim  in  the 
Pacific.  Such  a  drive  marked  the  day 
on  which  Don  completed  the  second 
portrait  in  clay- — a  portrait  even  lovelier 
than  the  first.  But  there  was  a  change 
from  the  usual  routine  —  the  twin 
brother,  Ross,  was  not  with  them. 

"Ross  said  he'd  be  busy  this  after- 
noon," explained  Don,  "but  I  thought 
maybe  you'd  accept  me  as  a  substitute." 


There  wasn't  anything  Norma  could 
say  to  that,  without  revealing  her  feel- 
ings, so  she  turned  their  conversation 
into  casual  channels  as  they  drove  along 
through  the  late  afternoon  sunshine. 
Finally  she  asked,  "Don,  why  did  you 
want  another  figure?  The  Tournament 
commissioned  you  to  do  only  one." 

Don  hesitated  for  a  moment,  then  said 
quietly,  "That  second  one  wasn't  for  the 
Tournament.  It  was  for  me.  You  know 
the  story  of  the  artist  who  made  a  statue 
so  beautiful  that  he  fell  in  love  with 
it  .  .  ." 

Norma  held  her  breath — then  she 
hadn't  been  imagining  those  things 
about  Don!  She  waited  for  him  to  go 
on,  to  say  what  she  wanted  to  hear  him 
say — words  that  she  knew  she  could 
repeat  to  him  and  mean  with  all  her 
heart. 

Instead,  Don  forced  a  little  mirthless 
laugh,  and  said,  "But  don't  worry — I 
know  how  it  is  with  the  three  of  us.  So 
that  second  figure  I  made — I'm  going  to 
give  it  to  the  man  who  has  the  right  to 
it.  I'm  going  to  give  it  to  Ross." 

FOR  a  moment  they  drove  along  in 
silence,  then  Norma  said  very  gently, 
"Don,  do  you  know  why  your  brother 
isn't  with  us  this  afternoon?" 

"No — he  said  something  about  another 
appointment  and  .  .  ." 

"Yes,"  Norma  interrupted  him,  with 
an  odd  little  note  of  suppressed  laughter 
in  her  voice.  "An  appointment  with  a 
very  attractive  young  lady.  The  reason 
I  know  is  that,  for  the  past  two  weeks, 
he's  been  asking  me  to  coach  him  in 
what  to  say  to  that  young  lady  so  that 
she'd  be  as  partial  to  him  as  he  is  to 
her." 

"You  mean  Ross  and  you  aren't  .  .  ." 
Brakes  squealed  as  Don  pulled  the  con- 
vertible to  a  quick  stop,  and  his  hand 
was  tense  on  her  arm  as  he  cried,  "But 
from  the  very  first  I  thought  you  and 
Ross  .  .  .  why,  the  way  you  always 
talked  together  .  .  .  and  the  fun  you 
had." 

"Of  course  we  had  fun,  and  of  course 
we  talked  and  laughed,"  Norma  told 
him.  "I  like  Ross  very  much,  and  he 
likes  me.  But  we're  pals,  Don,  not  .  .  . 
not  what  you  thought." 

Norma  laughs  when  she  tells  about 
that  moment.  "I  tried  to  go  on  explain- 
ing to  Don  how  it  had  been  from  the 
first.  But  he  interrupted — interrupted 
me  in  a  way  that  I'd  wanted  him  to  .  .  . 
by  kissing  me." 

And  when  Norma  and  Don  announced 
their  engagement  a  few  months  later, 
it  was  Ross  who  said,  "I  wonder  if 
you  two  realize  how  perfect  your  love 
story  really  is.  A  beautiful  'queen' 
wooed  and  won  by  the  artist  who  fell  in 
love  with  the  model  he  made  of  her. 
It's  so  nice  a  story,  I  think  you  ought  to 
let  others  share  it." 

It  was  an  extra-special  day  at  our 
studio,  the  day  that  Norma  became 
Don's  bride.  The  beautiful  broadcasting 
room  at  the  Chapman  Park  hotel  took 
on  the  look  of  a  motion  picture  studio, 
for  there  were  movie  cameramen  and 
television  men  recording  the  ceremony 
and  the  program.  As  one  of  them  said 
to  me,  "You  know,  I  can  believe  in 
things  like  love  and  living  happily  ever 
after  when  I  see  a  bride  like  that.  And 
the  way  those  two  kids  look  at  each 
other — believe  me,  here's  a  guy  who's 
wishing  them  all  the  happiness  in  the 
world." 


Covering  the 
Conventions 

(Continued  from  page  37) 

alternates — more  than  a  thousand  in  all 
— will  sit  on  the  main  floor  of  the  vast 
auditorium,  grouped  by  states,  each 
group  with  its  own  banner  or  placard. 

The  speakers'  platform  will  be  spa- 
cious because  it  has  to  hold  a  lot  of 
people  at  one  time  or  another.  A  small 
forest  of  microphones  will  stand  before 
the  rostrum.  Overlooking  the  speakers' 
platform  will  be  the  glass-enclosed 
control  booths  of  the  networks  and  sta- 
tions that  will  broadcast  reports  of  the 
big  show  all  over  the  country. 

Each  network  will  have  its  own  staff 
under  command  of  its  news  director. 
This  year,  CBS  will  have,  I  suppose, 
ten  or  a  dozen  correspondents  working 
under  Wells  Church,  our  director  of 
news.  You  will  hear  John  Daly  fre- 
quently; he  is  a  veteran  at  covering 
national  political  conventions. 

OUR  Washington  staff,  headed  by  its 
chief  correspondent,  Eric  Sevareid, 
will  be  at  the  convention  in  force,  too.  I 
do  not  know  how  many  engineers  and 
other  technicians  will  be  required,  but 
the  correspondents  will  be  out-num- 
bered several  times  over  by  the  men 
who  put  and  keep  them  on  the  air,  and 
by  secretaries,  assistants,  tabulators 
and  special  workers  of  many  kinds. 
Also  there  will  be  men  on  the  floor  with 
mobile  equipment  to  pick  up  direct 
comments  from  key  people  and  to  de- 
scribe the  demonstrations.  Some  of 
their  reports  will  be  relayed  to  the 
booth.  Others  will  go  directly  on  the 
air,  according  to  the  judgment  of  the 
news  director. 

All  of  the  networks  will  have  some- 
what the  same  set-up,  but  each  will 
operate  in  its  own  way. 

The  confusion  and  excitement  will 
begin  when  the  nominating  speeches 
start.  By  tradition,  the  first  mention  of 
a  candidate's  name  in  the  speech  of 
nomination  sets  off  a  demonstration  led 
by  the  delegates  of  his  home  state.  They 
jump  up,  grab  banners,  blow  horns  and 
parade  around  the  huge  hall  behind  a 
blaring  brass  band.  Delegates  from 
other  states  join  in.  More  demonstra- 
tors appear  from  side  entrances.  Spec- 
tators yell  and  applaud.  Confetti  rains 
down  from  the  galleries.  Everybody 
lets  off  steam. 

;  Take  these  preliminary  uproars  with 
a  grain  of  salt  as  part  of  the  fun.  Re- 
porters will  describe  to  you  what  is 
happening  but  they  and  the  news  ana- 
lysts also  will  tell  you  whether  it  is  the 
real  thing  or  not. 

Partly,  these  demonstrations  are  per- 
sonal compliments  to  the  candidates  by 
their  friends  and  backers.  Partly  they 
take  place  because  the  delegates  and 
spectators  have  gotten  tried  of  sitting. 

Such  a  demonstration  took  place  in 
the  1944  Republican  convention  when 
Governor  (now  Senator)  Bricker  was 
nominated.  Everybody  knew  that  he 
did  not  have  a  chance  for  the  top  place 
on  the  ticket.  Governor  Dewey  had 
that  sewed  up.  But  Bricker  is  genial, 
likeable,  warm-hearted,  and  the  dele- 
gates gave  him  an  uproarious  personal 
send-off.  Dewey  got  the  top  place  on 
the  ticket.  Bricker  got  the  vice  presi- 
dential spot.  But  judging  from  the 
demonstration  alone,  it  looked  like  the 
other  way  around. 

Stranger  things  have  happened  just 
for  fun.  The  "Will  Rogers  for  Presi- 
dent" movement  started  as  a  gag  in  the 


Fels-Naptha  Soap  is  made  and  sold 
in  just  this  one  size  ....  millions 
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bar  of  mild,  golden  Fels-Naptha 
holds  more  cleaning  energy  than 
any  laundry  soap  on  the  market. 


. 


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Of  cool,  lightweight,  butcher  'inen — smartly 
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high  at  neck.  Exciting  top  is  fitted  to  whittle 
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ets are  BIG  for  hip  interest!  Adds  up  to 
that  NEW  LOOK!  Separate  skirt  is  new  long 
length — -perfect  with  blouse  or  acket. 
Striking  color  combinations:  Black  and  Aqua, 
Block  and  Pink,  Black  and  Grey;  Black  and 
White;  Black  and  Maize.  <t 


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1920s  but  it  became  almost  serious  by 
1928  and  the  Bascom  Timmons  episode 
is  famous.  Timmons  is  a  tall,  raw- 
boned,  likable  reporter  who  was  rep- 
resenting a  string  of  Texas  newspapers 
in  1944.  He  was  extremely  popular 
with  his  fellow  reporters,  particularly 
with  men  like  John  Daly  who  had 
worked  with  him  in  Washington.  To- 
ward the  middle  of  the  Democratic 
convention  they  decided  that,  since 
everyone  else  had  a  favorite  son,  the 
correspondents  ought  to  have  one,  too. 
Timmons  was  chosen  as  the  correspon- 
dents' candidate  one  evening  when  the 
reporters  were  resting  in  their  hotel 
from  the  labors  of  the  day.  His  "cam- 
paign" provided  under-cover  fun  for 
several  days  with  high  flown  "state- 
ments" from  Timmons  and  hot  news 
"bulletins"  flying  back  and  forth.  Of 
course  not  for  publication  or  broadcast. 
The  joke  reached  its  climax  when,  in 
the  spirit  of  fun,  Timmons  was  actually 
nominated  for  the  vice-presidency  by 
someone  from  the  Texas  delegation. 
He  got  a  rousing  reception,  too.  Of 
course  his  "campaign"  ended  with  the 
demonstration,  but  his  "backers"  car- 
ried the  thing  to  its  logical  conclusion 
and  gave  a  party  to  soothe  the  hurt 
feelings  of  their  rejected  candidate. 

THIS  year,  nomination  by  acclamation 
of  someone  who  does  not  appear 
to  be  in  the  running  at  the  moment 
could  very  well  happen.  William  Jen- 
nings Bryan,  one  of  several  outsiders  in 
1896,  swept  the  Democratic  convention 
with  his  famous  "Cross  of  Gold"  speech. 
Even  if  it  is  true  that  the  landslide  for 
President  Roosevelt  at  the  1936  Demo- 
cratic convention  started  in  the  bowels 
of  the  convention  hall  ventilating  sys- 
tem, his  nomination  by  acclamation 
was  genuine.  The  start  of  any  demon- 
stration can  be  contrived,  but  the  dele- 
gates do  not  stampede  easily  or  soon. 
They  are  hard-headed  citizens  when  it 
comes  to  the  voting.  Your  commen- 
tator will  tell  you  which  is  a  routine 
demonstration  to  let  off  steam,  and 
which  is  the  real  thing. 

This  year  you  will  hear  many  more 
voices  on  the  air  than  you  did  in  1944. 
The  outcome  of  both  conventions  ap- 
pears more  uncertain  than  four  years 
ago,  and  many  more  news  men  are 
available  to  cover  them. 

When  the  conventions  met  in  Chicago 
in  1944,  the  Normandy  invasion  had 
just  begun,  the  bomb  plot  against  Hitler 
had  almost  succeeded,  news  was  pop- 
ping in  Washington  and  in  the  Pacific. 
The  networks  had  their  men  spread  all 
over  the  world. 

Those  of  us  who  did  go  felt  as  if  we 
had  talked  steadily  for  almost  a  week. 
We  had  to  do  our  regular  news  shows 
and  describe  the  surface  and  back- 
grounds of  the  conventions,  too,  with 
only  a  few  hours'  sleep  in  the  early 
morning  hours.  It  was  a  stimulating 
experience,  but  I  was  glad  that  neither 
convention  lasted  more  than  a  week. 
The  fun  wears  off  and  the  delegates 
wear  thin  when  a  convention  deadlocks 
and  drags  along  for  weeks  as  the  Demo- 
cratic convention  did  in  1924  when 
Senator  McAdoo  and  Governor  Al  Smith 
were  battling  for  the  nomination  and 
many  delegates  went  broke  living  in 
New  York  and  lobbying  each  other  in 
night   clubs. 

This  year,  1  shall  be  watching  the  re- 
porters working  on  the  floor  with  no 
little  envy  as  they  move  about  seeking 
statements  from  the  leaders  of  various 
key  states  when  the  voting  starts,  be- 
cause I  had  a  brief  experience  of  that 
kind  in  1944.  Before  going  into  radio.  I 
was  the  editor  of  Living  Age  and  head 


of  the  editorial  department  of  the  book 
publishers,  Simon  and  Shuster.  I  never 
was  a  reporter  on  a  newspaper,  and  I 
started  in  radio  as  an  analyst  of  world 
events.  Perhaps  that  is  why  I  can't  help 
thinking  that  the  reporters  on  the  floor 
have  all  of  the  fun.  Certainly  my  big 
moment  at  the  1944  convention  came 
when  I  covered  the  Henry  Wallace 
demonstration  from  the  floor. 

I  was  supposed  to  stay  in  our  booth 
and  ride  the  storm  from  there — the 
high-brow,  double-dome  news  analyst. 
But  it  looked  like  more  fun  on  the 
floor,  so  Paul  White,  our  news  director, 
let  me  go. 

White  has  a  fine  sense  of  humor.  It 
was  he  who  was  thoughtful  enough  to 
have  eight  bags  of  coal  delivered  to  Ed 
Murrow's  stateroom  when  Murrow  was 
sailing  to  Newcastle,  and  I  think  he  had 
the  idea  that  he  was  playing  a  good 
joke  on  me  when  he  said,  "Okay."  John 
Daly,  more  experienced  in  what  could 
happen  on  the  floor,  offered  to  share 
his  policeman  with  me — a  friendly  ges- 
ture because  a  gentleman  is  at  a  dis- 
advantage when  an  excited  lady  grabs 
the  microphone  and  won't  let  go. 

Anyway,  down  I  went  with  a  forty- 
pound  pack  transmitter  strapped  to  my 
back.  Behind  me  walked  an  engineer 
carrying  more  equipment.  I  felt  like  an 
African  explorer  with  his  bearer. 

All  of  us  have  heard  many  times  that 
the  conservative  Democrats  forced 
President  Roosevelt  to  "scuttle"  Wal- 
lace at  that  time.  I  was  there,  and  I 
do  not  think  that  is  true.  I  have  no 
proof,  but  it  is  my  conviction  that  Mr. 
Roosevelt  already  was  thinking  in 
terms  of  world  peace  when  he  did  not 
again  insist  on  Wallace  as  a  running 
mate  as  he  had  in  1940.  Roosevelt  had 
been  through  the  whole  League  of  Na- 
tions tragedy  with  President  Wilson 
after  the  first  world  war.  He  had  seen 
a  hostile  Senate  keep  America  out  of 
the  League  of  Nations  and  reject  the 
Versailles  Treaty.  He  knew  that  the 
war  was  ending,  that  he  might  not  live 
through  the  establishment  of  the  United 
Nations  and  the  conclusion  of  the  peace 
treaties.  And  he  knew  that  the  Senate 
did  not  like  Wallace.  I  do  not  think 
that  any  party  politics  or  city  machine 
pressure  could  possibly  have  badgered 
Mr.  Roosevelt  into  ditching  Wallace  as 
he  certainly  did.  I  think  it  much  more 
likely  that  Roosevelt  foresaw  the  many 
difficulties  we  would  face  in  organizing 
the  United  Nations  and  making  peace, 
and  that  he  thought  that  the  Senate 
would  work  better  with  Truman. 

WHAT  will  happen  in  Wallace's  Third 
Party  campaign  by  the  time  the  con- 
ventions open  is  anyone's  guess  right 
now,  and  it  is  even  harder  to  say  where 
he  will  fetch  up  in  the  fall  because  so 
much  depends  on  the  other  candidates. 

If  General  Eisenhower  should  run, 
that  would  almost  certainly  cost  Wal- 
lace most  of  his  present  followers — and 
not  Wallace  only.  The  General  looks 
like  the  only  candidate  for  whom  any- 
thing like  a  landslide  could  develop. 
But  he  seems  to  have  taken  himself  out 
of  the  picture. 

In  any  case,  if  you  hear  what  appears 
to  be  a  stampede  for  a  popular  native 
son,  don't  jump  too  rapidly  to  conclu- 
sions. It  probably  won't  mean  a  thing 
beyond  a  healthy  demonstration  of 
our  American  freedom  of  expression, 
though  the  fact  that  our  political  con- 
ventions can  combine  serious  purpose 
and  ceremonious  fun  is  pretty  impor- 
tant in  itself.  As  long  as  Americans 
can  enjoy  themselves  nominating  a 
presidential  candidate,  the  health  of 
our  democracy  remains  sound. 


,  %  ., 


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odess . . 


3 


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Only  Clopay  Drapes  have  that  "decorator"  touch.  Plasticized 
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Gay  florals,  smart  stripes  and  plaids  designed  by  U /CC 
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82 


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The  Wife  in  the  Life 
of  Dennis  Day 

(Continued  from  page  59) 

Los  Angeles  but  far  from  the  gossip 
columns  of  radio  and  screen.  One  Sun- 
day afternoon  the  McNultys  and  a 
couple  of  their  boys  called  on  the  Alm- 
quists,  and  Peggy  was  there,  home  from 
the  University  of  California — and  the 
McNulty  boy  known  as  Dennis  Day 
asked  for  a  date  right  then  and  there. 

None  of  this  was  in  the  script  Holly- 
wood's matchmakers  had  laid  out  for 
the  very  personable  and  eligible  Den- 
nis. The  way  Hollywood  doped  it, 
Dennis  Day  would  fall  eventually  for 
one  of  its  own  career-and-glamor  girls. 
But  Dennis,  a  home  boy,  picked  Peggy, 
a  home  girl,  just  as  those  who  really 
knew  the  lad  had  always  known  he 
would.  Peggy  —  blue-eyed,  brown- 
haired,  cream-skinned — is  as  pretty 
and  wholesome  as  a  May  morning. 

So  that  first  date  led  to  another,  and 
finally  to  the  date  on  which,  some 
eight  months  ago,  Dennis  asked  that 
question  and  got  his  "Yes." 

Well,  as  the  folks  all  said,  it  was  a 
beautiful  wedding,  just  as  Peggy  and 
Dennis  had  wanted  it. 

"Quiet,  with  dignity,  and  just  the 
two  families  and  family  friends," 
they'd  agreed  when  talking  it  over, 
"because  this  is  the  only  wedding  we'll 
ever  have — and  we  want  it  to  be  ours  " 

I'LL  ask  Betty  to  be  my  matron  of 
honor,"  said  Peg.  (Betty  —  Mrs. 
Jerome  Linenkugel — is  a  longtime 
friend   of  Peg's.) 

The  day  in  the  lives  of  Dennis  and 
Peggy  was  a  Thursday  (January  29th), 
the  place  the  beautiful  old  chapel  of 
Mission  San  Juan  Capistrano,  some  fifty 
miles  from  Hollywood.  Here,  172  years 
ago,  California's  pioneer  padres  dedi- 
cated this  holy  ground  in  the  then 
pagan  wilderness.  The  mission  bells  the 
padres  heard  still  ring  sweetly  today, 
and  the  towering  gray  olives  and 
golden  acacias  they  planted  still  shade 
the  fragrant  gardens  they  laid  out. 

Our  Mr.  Day,  before  the  nuptial  Mass 
befan,  was  not  the  least  bit  nervous. 
Unlike  the  breathless,  hapless  young 
man  he  portrays  on  his  own  air  show, 
unlike  the  meek  and  mild  butt  of  Jack 
Benny's  jokes  on  Sundays,  Dennis  was 
poised,  calm,  and  collected. 

"It's  only  the  cold,"  he  whispered  to 
his  brother  and  best  rrian  John  Mc- 
Nulty, "that's  making  my  teeth  chatter 
and  my  hands  shake.  These  thick 
adobe  walls,  you  know.  .  .  ." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  John  grinned  sym- 
pathetically. "You  want  me  to  take  the 
ring  now?" 

"N-n-no,  not  yet.  I — I  just  want  to 
keep  it  here  in  my  pocket  where  I  can 
check  on  it — myself — once  in  a  while." 

Father  John  Conlon  officiated,  and 
Father  George  Gallagher  sang  "Panis 
Angelicus"  and  "Ave  Maria,"  and 
white  tapers  gleamed  before  the  carved 
altar  of  Spanish  gold-leaf.  And  Peggy 
Almquist,  a  picture  bride  in  white 
satin  and  veil,  became  Mrs.  Eugene 
Dennis  McNulty,  wearing  a  slender 
platinum  band  encrusted  with  small 
stones  to  match  her  dazzling  engage- 
ment diamond. 

There  followed  the  wedding  break- 
fast at  nearby  Balboa,  at  the  home  of 
Peggy's  uncle  Joseph  Bahan,  with  all 
the  padres  joining  their  good  strong 
voices  in  songs  to  Dennis  and  his  bride, 
and  Dennis  and  Peggy  so  busy  kissing 
guests  and  being  kissed  they  scarcely 


had  a  chance  to  eat.  The  breakfast  was 
gay,  a  regular  family  reunion  with  Mc- 
Nultys  and  Almquists  from  miles 
around,  and  it  was  hours  before  Peggy 
could  slip  away  to  change  to  her  "going 
away"  outfit — a  smartly  trim  tailored 
suit — and  return  to  join  Dennis  in 
their  "escape."  More  kisses,  a  few 
affectionate  tears,  then  the  dash  to 
Dennis's  parked  gray  convertible,  and 
they  were  off  under  a  shower  of  rice 
and  shouted  goodbyes. 

"I've  a  wonderful  idea,  Peggy,"  said 
Dennis  suddenly  as  they  sped  along. 

"Yes?" 

"Let's,"  he  said  deadpan,  "get 
married!" 

"M-m-m.  .  .  ."  She  shook  her  head. 
"Never  again — because  that  time  was 
for  keeps!" 

The  honeymoon  site  was  near  War- 
ner Hot  Springs,  a  resort  north  of  San 
Diego.  Dennis  and  Peggy  bypassed  the 
Springs  for  his  friend  Ben  Benbough's 
ranch,  640  acres  in  a  wilderness  of  des- 
ert-mountain country.  Benbough  was 
an  overseas  pal  of  Dennis's,  during 
their  Navy  days  in  the  war,  and  his 
offer  of  the  secluded  ranch  for  the 
honeymoon   was    eagerly    accepted. 

Secluded?  Except  for  the  caretaker's 
cottage,  two  miles  from  the  ranch 
house,  there's  not  a  human  dwelling  for 
miles.  The  house  itself  is  of  stone,  with 
the  three  bedrooms  in  knotty  pine,  a 
stone  fireplace  in  every  room. 

THE  sun  already  was  losing  its 
warmth  and  the  night's  chill  creeping 
into  the  air  when  Dennis  and  Peggy 
pulled  up  at  the  door.  Fires  were  al- 
ready laid,  waiting  for  a  match,  and  in 
no  time  Dennis  had  them  crackling. 

"You're  beautiful,  Mrs.  McNulty,"  he 
remarked  solemnly.    "Can  you  cook?" 

"By  some  reports,  m'lord,"  replied 
Peggy. 

"But  I  reserve  the  right  to  do  the 
steaks,"  he  warned. 

That  first  meal  was  something  to  re- 
member. Succulent  steaks,  barbecued 
in  the  Dennis  manner,  which  means 
they  must  be  marinated  in  a  special 
sauce  before  the  flames  touch  them. 
Stuffed  baked  potatoes,  done  Peggy- 
style  with  onions  and  cream  cheese. 
Corn  on  the  cob.  Green  salad.  And 
biscuits,  Peggy's  own,  feather-light  and 
golden  brown.  ("I'm  here  to  testify," 
said  Dennis  later,  "that  Peggy  is  a 
cook!") 

They  ate  by  firelight,  with  the  dark 
velvet  sky  framed  in  the  windows,  the 
stars  huge  and  brilliant  and  romantic. 

But  there  was  one  item  Dennis  had 
forgotten.  In  that  country  the  winter 
days  may  be  warm,  but  the  nights  are 
freezing  cold.  In  the  morning,  when  he 
suggested  a  sightseeing  ride,  he  found 
the  gray  convertible  balky.  He  had 
neglected  to  empty  the  radiator,  and  it 
was  frozen  solid. 

"Well,"  said  Peggy  helpfully.  "Walk- 
ing is  nice,  too." 

So  they  took  a  sightseeing  hike  in- 
stead. As  Dennis  remarked,  they  didn't 
have  to  go  anywhere.  No  singing  lesson 
to  take,  no  rehearsals  to  rush  to,  no  on- 
the-air  deadlines.  Four  whole  days  of 
freedom  from  the  hectic  rush  of  his 
career,  and  a  longer  honeymoon  trip  to 
anticipate  later,  when  he  would  take 
Peggy  to  New  York  (which  she  had 
never  seen)  while  he  recorded  songs 
for  his  next  film,  "Babes  in  Toyland." 

Sunday,  their  last  day,  with  the  car's 
radiator  now  nicely  thawed,  they  drove 
to  the  quaint  chapel  of  Santa  Isabel 
for  Mass,  and  they  delighted  in  the 
singing  of  the  Indian  worshippers.  It 
was  on  the  way  back  that  they  met 
their  mountain  lion — the  big  one  that 


THE  STYLES 

WITH 

UNIT 


Style  that  GROWS!  Heaven-to-Seven  Fashions  can  be 
"let  out"  gracefully,  making  for  longer  wear.  That  makes 
starching  with  UNIT*  extra-important.  This  finer  starch 
restores  fabrics'  original  finish.  And  UNIT  is  so  versatile! 
—perfect  for  men's  shirts,  sheets  and  pillowcases  as  well 
as  filmy  blouses  and  negligees.  UNIT  makes  cottons  look 
and  feel  like  linen. 

You'll  find  Heaven-to-Seven  Fashions  featured  at  Miss 
Brogan's  own  exclusive  shops  and  such  fine  stores  across 
the  country  as  Jane  Engel,  I.  Magnin,  Harzfeld's,  Famous 
&  Barr.  unit,  of  course,  is  sold  by  all  grocers. 


..ADDS    THE 


£/  y  eC.  P.  R.Co..l»48  M 


'UNIT  is  a  regiscercJ  tuJe-mark  distinguishing  this  product  of  Corn  Products  Refining  Co.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


S3 


\IMlvkUlkW 


(see  answer  below) 


One  Permanent  Cost  $15...the  TONI  only  $2 


84 


No  wonder  a  million  women  a  month  use 
Toni  Home  Permanent.  For  Toni  gives 
you  a  wave  that's  guaranteed  to  look  just 
as  lovely  and  last  just  as  long  as  a  $15 
beauty  shop  wave.  But  before  trying  Toni 
you  will  want  to  know  — 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Yes,  Toni  waves  any  hair  that  takes  a  per- 
manent—including gray,  dyed,  bleached 
or  baby-fine  hair. 

Is  it  easy  to  do? 

No  trick  at  all  to  giving  yourself  a  Toni 
.  .  .'just  three  simple  steps: 

1.  Roll  your  hair  up  on  curlers.  Dab  on 
Toni  Creme  Lotion  as  you  go. 

2.  Tie  a  turban  round  your  head  and  do 
whatever  you  like  for  2  to  3  hours. 

3.  Saturate  each  curl  with  Toni  Neutral- 
izer  and  rinse. 

Can  I  give  my  little  girl  a  TONI,  too? 

Sure,  mothers  find  Toni  Creme  Waving 
Lotion  is  kind  and  gentle  to  children's 
silky-fine  hair.  (And  the  child  is  free  to 
run  about  and  play  while  her  Toni  Home 
Permanent  is  taking.) 


Is  TONI  guaranteed? 

Yes !  Your  Toni  wave  must  flatter  you  or 
you  get  back  every  cent  you  paid.  Toni 
can  make  this  guarantee  because  the  Toni 
Wave  is  laboratory  controlled  for  uni- 
formity and  high  quality. 

Which  Twin  has  the  TONI? 

Lovely  Doris  and  Dorothy  DuVall  are 
TWA  air  hostesses.  Doris,  the  twin  at 
the  left,  says,  "I  gave  myself  a  $2  Toni 
and  Dorothy  had  a  $15  beauty  shop  wave 
but  no  one  on  the  plane  could  tell  our 
permanents  apart." 


got  away.  " Unfortunately,"  says  uermis. 

They  were  driving  along  when  the 
cat  loomed,  suddenly,  just  ahead  of 
the  car,  and  Dennis  had  to  swerve  to 
avoid  striking  the  animal.  Peggy 
gasped,  and  Dennis  thought  longingly 
of  his  gun  collection  at  home  while  he 
reached  for  his  .22  pistol  in  the  glove 
compartment.  But  the  cat  was  too  fast. 
With  one  leap  it  disappeared  into  a 
roadside  thicket. 

"Now,"  said  Dennis,  "I'm  going  to 
sulk.  That  was  a  fast  125  bucks  that 
just  escaped  me — there's  a  bounty  on 
those  cats.  As  a  married  man  with  re- 
sponsibilities, I  have  to  think  about 
items  like  that!" 

Well,  that  honeymoon  ended,  too 
soon,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  McNulty 
parked  their  car  in  the  Dennis  Day 
home  garage  in  Hollywood's  Los  Feliz 
section  and  Dennis,  true  to  tradition, 
carried  his  bride  over  the  threshold.  To 
hear  him  tell  it,  he  did  it  in  a  walk — but 
"He  almost  dropped  me,"  teased  Peggy 
later. 

"But,  honey,  you're  a  big  girl,"  Den- 
nis alibied,   grinning. 

Actually,  Peggy  is  a  slim  young 
creature.  And,  incidentally,  she  meets 
the  Day  specifications  for  a  wife  as 
Dennis  once  outlined  them  in  pre- 
Peggy  days:  "...  a  girl  with  good 
health  and  a  zest  for  life  ...  a  sense 
of  humor  .  .  .  interested  in  music  .  .  . 
can  cook  and  sew  .  .  .  and  she  must 
love  children.  .  .   ." 

The  Day  home,  a  two-story  Mediter- 
ranean-style dwelling,  has  twelve 
rooms,  enough  to  meet  space  require- 
ments for  the  fulfillment  of  their 
mutual  desire  for  small  McNultys.  The 
newlyweds  are  settling  down  there 
now,  looking  for  household  help  but 
with  Peggy,  meanwhile,  doing  what 
Dennis  calls  a  great  job  of  "pushing 
that  vacuum  cleaner,  cooking  those 
meals,  and  washing  those  dishes — she 
washes  and  I  dry." 

PEGGY  markets  in  the  new  blue  Olds 
that  was  Dennis's  wedding  gift  to  her 
(she  gave  him  a  gold  watch  band)  and 
she  talks  to  decorators  about  a  few 
changes  they'll  make  in  the  home. 

She's  arranging  display  space  for  her 
collection  of  demi-tasse  cups,  and  try- 
ing to  decide  whether  to  bring  her  pet 
cocker,  Mickey,  to  live  with  Dennis's 
cocker,  Dink  Trout.  She  and  Dennis 
are  working  out  a  budget,  and  planning 
their  New  York  trip,  and  how  she  finds 
time  to  write  poetry  (a  secret  avocation 
of  hers  which  Dennis  proudly  reveals 
to  her  dismay)  is  beyond  calculation. 

And  Dennis,  when  he  isn't  working 
at  radio  or  pictures  or  his  new  song- 
publishing  business,  is  laboring  on  the 
new  barbecue.  The  bids  he  received 
for  its  construction  were  steep,  and — 
"I've  got  two  good  hands,  and  friends," 
he  explains.  The  friends  are  Pat  Sul- 
livan, a  fire  chief,  and  John  Fitzgerald 
and   John   Kowser. 

And — oh,  yes,  about  those  lamb 
chops  that  played  iceberg.  .  .  . 

The  Days'  first  meal  at  home  was 
somewhat  less  idyllic  than  their  firelit 
first  meal  in  the  desert.  It  seems  that 
Peggy,  newly  initiated  to  the  ways  of 
deep-freeze  units,  forgot  to  allow 
those  lamb  chops  time  to  thaw  out  be- 
fore cooking.  When  Dennis  came  home 
to  dinner  that  evening,  the  chops  were 
still  hunks  of  icy  granite. 

"We  had  pork  and  beans,"  reports 
Peggy  ruefully. 

"Peggy,  you  see,"  beams  Dennis  ap- 
provingly, "is  a  resourceful,  all-around 
cook.  She  knows  all  there  is  to  know 
about  can-ooeners  too!" 


"Bless  This  Ring 

(Continued  from  page  69) 


?? 


"It's  just,"  she  said,  half-aloud,  "that 
I  don't  know  how  Rosemary  will  take 
his  being  gone  indefinitely  .  .  ." 

But  deep  inside  she  did  know;  that 
was  what  made  the  decision  so  hard. 
Rosemary  was  like  her — Susy  Dawson 
all  over  again.  With  both  of  them,  the 
heart  once  given  could  never  be  re- 
called. Susy  knew  what  it  was  to  wait 
years  for  a  man,  with  never  a  sign  from 
him,  not  knowing  where  he  was,  or 
even  if  he  was  alive — and  to  go  on 
waiting  after  all  reason  told  her  that  all 
hope  was  gone. 

Bill  agreed  with  them  that  it  was  a 
good  time  to  make  the  break.  He  had 
only  one  objection  to  make.  "I  don't 
want  to  leave  her  until  after  Christ- 
mas," he  said.  "I  don't  want  to  spoil 
Christmas  for  her,  and  I  want  it  to  re- 
member for  myself." 

THAT'S  what  happens  to  a  love  that 
has  a  cloud  hanging  over  it,"  Susy 
told  him.  "If  Dick  had  only  faced  Joyce 
with  the  truth  in  the  very  beginning — 
if  he  had  only  admitted  to  Joyce  that 
Emily  still  loved  him  and  that  there 
had  been  other  women  in  his  life — all 
this  might  have  been  prevented.  It 
takes  time  for  love  to  grow  into  an  all- 
powerful  thing,  Bill.  That  first  burst 
of  loneliness  is  like  a  crocus  that 
blooms  and  can  disappear  without  too 
much  hurt.  It's  when  the  roots  grow 
deep  down  into  your  heart  that  the  loss 
can  become  almost  unbearable." 

"It  can't  happen  to  Rosemary,"  Bill 
said  almost  inaudibly.    "It  mustn't." 

So  Rosemary  and  Bill  had  their 
Christmas  together,  all  that  Christmas 
should  be,  with  the  family  around  them, 
and  the  turkey  and  the  tree  and  the 
presents,  and  the  day  after  Christmas 
Bill  told  her  that  he  was  going  away. 
She  took  it  well,  telling  herself  that  the 
sooner  he  went  the  sooner  he  would  be 
coming  back,  telling  herself  that  she 
had  so  much,  so  very  much  to  look 
forward  to.  She  rode  to  the  station 
with  Bill  and  Dr.  Jim,  and  went  home 
to  find  a  note  that  Bill  had  hidden  for 
her  under  the  Christmas  tree. 

"My  darling  one,  I  have  your  picture 
and  mine  with  me,  but  no  picture,  how- 
ever good,  is  like  your  face  with  the 
snowflakes  on  your  nose  and  on  your 
eyelashes  and  on  your  dearest  mouth. 
You  are  everything." 

She  had  that,  and  the  next  day  a 
telephone  call  from  Bill,  to  say  again 
how  much  he  loved  her.  Joyce  Miller, 
on  the  other  hand,  had  nothing  but  her 
own  fast-failing  hope.  One  wire  had 
come  from  Dick,  saying  that  he  was 
suffering  from  shock  and  would  re- 
main away  for  a  while  longer.  Nothing 
else. 

"Now  will  you  come  and  stay  with 
us?"  Rosemary  begged.  "You'll  feel 
better,  Joycey,  than  if  you  go  on  staring 
at  the  walls  of  that  room  of  yours.  And 
you  can  keep  me  company  until  Bill 
comes  back." 

Joyce  accepted.  She  had  no  other 
alternative.      She    clung    to    Rosemary. 

"It's  done  me  all  the  good  in  the 
world  to  be  with  you  and  your  mother 
and  Patti,"  she  said  one  afternoon 
when  they  were  walking  home  from 
work  together.  "It's  drawn  me  out  of 
myself.  I'm  beginning  to  think  of 
Dick's  side  of  it,  to  think  of  all  he's 
gone  through  and  how  hard  it  must  be 
for  him.     I'm  so  grateful,  Rosemary." 

"I'm  grateful  to  you"  Rosemary  re- 


plied. "I  don't  know  how  I  could  have 
endured  waiting  these  last  few  days, 
with  no  word  from  either  Bill  or  Dr. 
Jim  since  that  telephone  call.  Now 
that  it's  almost  over — " 

"Almost  over?" 

"Yes."  Rosemary  quickened  her  al- 
ready hurrying  footsteps.  "It's  just 
about  time  for  them  to  be  coming  back. 
Bill  will  have  gone  through  with  his 
test  by  this  time,  and  Dr.  Jim  has  to  get 
back  to  his  practice." 

"Go  on  and  talk,"  Joyce  smiled.  "It 
makes  me  feel  good  to  hear  you,  to 
know  that  two  people  who  love  each 
other  are  going  to  be  together  again. 
Rosemary!  Isn't  that  Dr.  Jim's  car  in 
front  of  your  house?" 

"It  is!"  Rosemary  gasped.  They  flew 
down  the  walk,  up  the  steps  of  the 
house.  Rosemary  flung  open  the  door, 
crying,  "Dr.  Jim!    Dr.  Jim!" 

"Rosemary,  my  dear — " 

She  was  too  excited  to  see  the  gravity 
of  his  expression.  Her  eyes  were  every- 
where, looking  for  Bill.  Her  mother 
was  there,  and  Patti  .  .  .  Bill  must  be  in 
his  room,  hiding,  to  surprise  her. 

"Where's  Bill?"  she  cried.  "Bill — 
Mother,  is  he  in  his  room?" 

"No,   dear.     He's   not   in   his   room." 

"He's  not  here,"  said  Joyce  in  an 
echoing,  empty  tone. 

"Of  course  he's  here — "  Rosemary 
said.    "Isn't  he,  Dr.  Jim?" 

"Well—" 

Susy  Dawson  cut  in  mercifully,  "Bill's 
still  in  Chicago,  Rosemary." 

"Chicago.  Oh,  no,  he  can't  be!  You 
promised,  Dr.  Jim — " 

"I  promised  to  go  with  him,"  said  Dr. 
Jim  uncomfortably.  "I  didn't  promise 
to  stay  there  indefinitely.  Bill  had 
some  things  to  attend  to — " 

JIM,  it's  no  use,"  Susy  broke  in. 
"Rosemary,  Bill  has  made  up  his 
mind  to  stay  away  until  his  memory  re- 
turns." 

"Oh,  no — "  It  was  a  whisper. 

Dr.  Jim  cleared  his  throat.  "It's  the 
best  thing,  dear,  believe  me.  There's 
nothing  final  about  this  parting — " 

"How  do  you  know  there  isn't?" 
Rosemary  cried  passionately.  "How 
do  you  know  that  months — years — 
won't  go  by,  and  Bill  will  still  be  wan- 
dering around  in  a  fog.  And  while  he 
does — "  her  voice  broke —  "while  he 
does,  the  memory  of  me  may  get  faint- 
er, too.  I  should  never  have  let  him  go 
alone  with  you,  Dr.  Jim,  but  I  trusted 
you  so —  And,  you,  Mother — " 

"Give  him  a  little  time,  Rosemary," 
Dr.  Jim  pleaded.  "You're  still  very 
young — " 

"Time!"  she  cried.  "Do  you  think 
there  can  be  enough  years  in  a  lifetime 
for  people  who  love  each  other  to 
spend  together?  What  else  is  there  in 
life  for  me  but  being  with  Bill?  I'm 
through  talking.  You  were  staying  at 
the  Blackwood,  weren't  you,  Dr.  Jim?" 

"Rosemary,"  begged  her  mother,  "do 
as  Jim  asks  and  give  Bill  a  little  time — " 

"No."  Joyce  spoke,  and  her  voice 
was  suddenly  stronger  and  surer  than 
anyone  had  ever  heard  it,  ever.  "All 
of  life  isn't  time  enough  to  spend  with 
the  man  you  love.  Don't  wait,  Rose- 
mary. Go  after  him  if  you  can — quick, 
quick — before  it's  too  late." 

"Yes,"  Patti  chimed  in  excitedly.  "Go 
after  him,  Rosemary.  I'll  pack  for  you." 

There  was  a  bad  moment  after  Joyce 
had   got  the  Blackwood   Hotel   on   the 


r,e  aiPSTicic 


Can't  smear! 
^_     Won't  rub  o 


Betty  Caldwell, 

appearing  in 

"A  Miracle  Can  Happen,"  a 

Benedict  Bogeaus  Production. 

Instantly . . . 


make  YOUR  lips  more  thrilling.' 

Here's  the  most  important  charm  discovery 
since  the  beginning  of  beauty.  A  'lipstick,' 
at  last,  that  actually  can't  smear — that 
really  won't  rub  off— and  that  will  keep 
your  lips  satin  smooth  and  lovely.  It  isn't  a 
lipstick  at  all.  It's  a  lush  liquid  in  the 
most  romantic  shades  ever!  And  so 
permanent!  Put  it  on  at  dusk— it  stays  till 
dawn  or  longer.  You  can  use  it  to  make  your 
cream  lipstick  smearproof, 
too.  Just  brush  on 
a  coat  of  Liquid.  Liptone 
after  your  lipstick. 
You'll  love  it. 

And  CHEEKTONE  .  .  ; 
Roses  in  your  cheeks 
without  rouge!  A  "miracle"' 
preparation.  The  effect  la 
absolutely  natural  and 
lovely.  Lasts  all  day. 

LIQUID  LIPTONE  AND  CHEEKTONE-newest  ex- 
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SEND  COUPON  for  generous  Trial  Sizes 

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Please  check: 

D  Medium — Natural  true  red — very  flattering. 

□  Gypsy — Vibrant  deep  red — ravishins. 
O  Regal — Glamorous  rich  burgundy. 

□  Scarlet — Flaming  Red — definitely  tempting. 
D  Orchid — Exotic  pink — romantic  for  evening. 

□  English  Tint — Inviting  coral-pink. 

D  CHEEKTONE— "Magic"  natural  color. 


Name 

Address- 
City 


-State_ 


R 
M 

85 


5   b  7   8  9  10  U 

ll9201A22B242S, 

LOSTDAYS 

CM  BE 

SAVED  DAYS 


RELIEVES  FUNCTIONAL 

PERIODIC  PAIN 


CHAMPS-HEADACHE -"BLUES" 


86 


telephone  and  had  transferred  the  in- 
strument to  Rosemary.  Bill  had  checked 
out  only  a  few  minutes  before.  No, 
he'd  left  no  forwarding  address. 

"Have  him  paged,"  Joyce  hissed. 
"'He  may  still  be  in  the  hotel." 

Rosemary  had  him  paged.  After  a 
few  minutes  she  covered  the  mouth- 
piece and  turned  joyously  to  her  friend. 
"He's  coming  to  the  phone!  They've 
found  him!" 

SHE  sat  farcing  Bill  at  a  table  for  two 
in  the  almost  deserted  dining  room 
of  the  Blackwood.  It  was  a  window 
table,  and  the  hotel  was  on  the  Drive; 
below  them  was  the  wintry,  glittering 
blue  of  Lake  Michigan;  on  either  side 
rose  the  white  stone  and  marble  cres- 
cent of  the  city.  This  was  Rosemary's 
first  city,  and  she  found  it  wonderful, 
all  of  it,  but  just  now  she  had  no  eyes 
for  anything  but  Bill. 

He  was  smiling,  hadn't  stopped  smil- 
ing from  the  moment,  a  little  while  be- 
fore, that  her  journey  had  ended  in  the 
hotel  lobby.  No,  he  hadn't  wanted  her 
to  come.  It  was  all  wrong.  She  must 
go  back.  But  he  couldn't  cover  his  glad- 
ness that  she  had  come. 

"Darling,"  he  said  now  for  the  fiftieth 
time,  "what  made  you  come  when  I 
told  you  not  to?  Now  it's  going  to  be 
twice  as  hard  to  leave  you." 

"Except,"  said  Rosemary,  "you're 
not  leaving  me."  She  was  this  way 
now,  not  pleading  with  him,  not  argu- 
ing, trying  to  persuade  him,  just  quiet- 
ly sure.  There  was  nothing  he  could 
say  or  do  to  change  her. 

"I  have  to,"  he  said.  "I  will  not 
marry  you  until  I  know  who  I  am, 
where  I  belong,  what  my  background 
is,  what  .  .  .  what  involvements — " 

"You  mean,"  she  said  calmly,  "that 
you're  afraid  you'll  wake  up  some 
morning  and  remember  that  you're  in 
love  with  someone  else,  or  engaged  to 
someone  else." 

"It  could  happen,"  he  said.  "I  don't 
know.    I  can't  be  sure." 

"But  I'm  sure.  I've  always  been  sure 
about  that."  She  paused.  "I  love  you, 
Bill,  more  than  I  know  how  to  say.  I 
love  you  with  everything  I  am,  with  all 
my  life.  You  love  me  the  same  way. 
If  you  didn't,  I'd  know  it.  And  you 
couldn't  love  twice,  not  that  way.  I 
know  I  couldn't,  and  I  know  you 
couldn't." 

He  laughed  helplessly.  "What  am  I 
going  to  do  with  you?"  he  demanded. 
"You  know  how  much  I  want  you.  I 
nearly  went  crazy  when  Dr.  Jim  went 
back  to  Springdale,  to  you,  and  left  me 
here.  All  that  kept  me  here  was  think- 
ing that  I  had  to  do  it  for  you.    You've 


done  so  much  for  me,  helped  me 
through  so  much,  until  I  know  my 
memory  is  just  around  the  corner — " 

"That's  just  why  I'm  going  to  stay 
with  you." 

"But,  Rosemary —  Oh,  dearest,  I  don't 
know  what  to  do — " 

"I  do,"  said  Rosemary.  "Where  do 
we  get  a  marriage  license  in  Chicago?" 

They  got  the  license,  had  the  neces- 
sary blood  tests,  that  afternoon,  and 
then  they  called  the  Dawson  house. 
Patti  and  Joyce  were  overjoyed  at  the 
news.  Dr.  Jim  gave  his  blessing  re- 
luctantly; Rosemary's  mother  gave  .her 
blessing  fearfully  but  wholeheartedly, 
and  said  exactly  what  Rosemary  had 
known  she  would  say.  "But,  darling,  if 
you  must  get  married,  can't  you  come 
home  and  be  married  here?" 

Rosemary  wouldn't.  Even  with  the 
license  in  Bill's  pocket,  she  was  still 
afraid  that  something,  somehow  would 
prevent  the  marriage  from  taking  place. 

But  finally,  it  was  the  last  day. 

"I  can't  believe  it,"  Rosemary  said 
over  and  over.  "I  can't  believe  we'll 
be  married  tomorrow.  After  tomorrow 
I'll  be  Mrs.  William  Roberts." 

"I  can't  believe  any  of  it,"  said  Bill. 
"I  can't  believe  that  you  really  came  all 
the  way  to  Chicago  on  my  account.  I 
can't  believe  that  I'm  so  happy — " 

"Me,  too,"  said  Rosemary.  "I'm  so 
wonderfully,  warmly,  deeply  happy. 
I — Bill,  are  they  calling  my  name?" 

They  were.  She  was  being  paged,  to 
answer  a  long  distance  call.  She  would 
remember  the  scene  later,  after  events 
had  made  it  significant — the  long  couch 
underneath  the  windows  upon  which 
she  and  Bill  sat,  the  twilight  over  the 
lake,  the  warm,  winking  lights  in  the 
tall,  white  buildings.  She  would  re- 
member getting  up  to  answer  the  call, 
and  Bill's  signalling  the  bellhop,  get- 
ting his  attention;  she  would  remember 
saying,  "I  hope  nothing's  happened  at 
home" — and  then  stopping  short,  know- 
ing that  everything  was  all  right  at 
home.  Knowing  that  she  should  not, 
must  not,  answer  the  call. 

"Nothing's  wrong  at  home,"  she  said. 
"I  know  it.  I'm  not  going  to  answer, 
Bill." 

"Not  going  to  answer!  Why,  of  course 
you  are!  If  someone's  calling  you  all 
the  way  from  Springdale — " 

"No."  She  shook  her  head.  "I'm  not 
going  to  take  it,  that's  all." 

In  Springdale,  in  the  Dawson  house, 
Susy  Dawson  replaced  the  telephone, 
slowly,  before  the  disapproving  eyes  of 
Patti  and  Joyce.  She  was  almost  re- 
lieved that  Rosemary  had  not  been  in 
the  hotel.  What,  after  all,  would  she 
have  told  her?    That  they  thought  they 


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had — that  they  might  have — some  con- 
crete information  about  Bill's  past?  No, 
she  couldn't  say  what  it  was,  because 
she  didn't  know  what  it  was,  or  if  it 
might  be  anything  at  all  to  do  with  Bill. 
Tell  her  that  Peter  Harvey,  who  had 
once  loved — who  still  loved — Rosemary, 
had  telephoned  hours  before  to  say 
that  she  must  not  marry  Bill  and  then 
had  hung  up  and  had  not  called  back? 
Peter  was  fine;  he  was  reliable,  but 
Rosemary  would  not  have  listened.  She 
would  only  have  been  upset. 

Late  that  night  when  the  telephone 
rang  at  the  Dawson's,  Susy  was  asleep. 
But  Patti  and  Joyce  were  awake,  and 
they  answered. 

"It's  an  awful  hour,"  said  Bill's  voice 
apologetically,  "but  we  had  a  message 
this  afternoon  saying  that  Rosemary'd 
had  a  call  from  Springdale.  I  couldn't 
sleep  for  wondering  if  something  was 
wrong,  and  I  finally  decided  to  call  and 
find  out." 

"Nothing's  wrong,"  said  Joyce,  her' 
eyes  meeting  Patti's.  "We  were  just 
calling  to — to — " 

"To  wish  them  happiness,"  Patti 
prompted   in   a   whisper. 

"To  wish  you  happiness,"  said  Joyce. 

" — -and  to  say  goodbye,"  Patti  finished, 
seizing  the  telephone.  "Goodbye,  Bill, 
darling.  Give  Rosemary  our  love.  I 
love  you,  too.  I  loved  you  first — don't 
forget." 

"I  won't,"  Bill  laughed.  "Goodbye, 
little  sister.    We'll  see  you   soon." 

Rosemary  had  a  clear  cold  day  for 
her  wedding,  with  the  lake  like  blue 
enamel  and  the  dazzle  of  sun  and 
frost.  She  had  Bill's  white  orchids  on 
her  shoulder  and  organ  music — from  a 
phonograph — played  at  the  timid  sug- 
gestion of  the  minister's  shy  young 
daughter.  The  parsonage  was  a  tall 
old  house  on  a  side  street,  the  parlor 
tall  and  narrow  and  dim.  Her  en- 
gagement ring  flashed  gloriously  in  the 
half-light;  the  wedding  rings,  hers  and 
Bill's,  gleamed  dully  gold. 

It  was  pure  enchantment,  all  of  it, 
even  the  cab  driver  who  told  them  with 
kind  cynicism  that  they  thought  mar- 
ried life  was  wonderful  because  they 
hadn't  had  time  to  know  anything 
about  it.  Re-registering  at  the  hotel, 
so  that  they  now  occupied  one  room  in- 
stead of  two,  walking  into  the  dining 
room  for  lunch — which  was  really  a 
wedding  breakfast.  .  .  . 

"I'm  thinking  of  the  Wishing  Well," 
Bill  said.  "Of  all  the  times  we  ate 
there,  and  I'd  watch  your  face  in  the 
candlelight  and  wonder  if  this  would 
ever  really  happen.  I'd  wonder  if  we 
would  ever  really  face  each  other 
across  our  own  table  in  our  own 
house — " 

"We  will,"  Rosemary  promised.  "I'm 
sure  of  it.  Don't  you  feel  it,  too,  Bill? 
Don't  you  feel  better  about  everything? 
Surer?" 

"I  do."  He  nodded  slowly.  "I  don't 
know  why — there  isn't  any  reason  for 
it — but  somehow  I'm  not  worried  any 
more." 

"I'm  not,  either,"  Rosemary  said.  "I 
feel  so  safe — so  happy.  I'm  not  going 
to  worry  about  anything,  ever  again." 

She  really  felt  that  she  wouldn't. 
Upstairs  in  their  room,  in  the  blessed 
security  of  Bill's  arms,  she  felt  that 
nothing  would  ever  hurt  her  again. 
From  now  on,  anything  could  happen, 
and  yet  nothing  could  take  away  what 
they  had  now.  The  very  worst  could 
happen,  if  it  would — Bill  could  forget 
her,  forget  this  part  of  his  life — and  yet 
because  they  had  each  other  now,  be- 
longed to  each  other  now,  they  were 
forever  one. 


«. 


M  But  don't  take  our  word  for  it— test  it!  See  if  Fresh  isn't 
more  effective,  creamier  than  any  deodorant  you've  ever  tried. 
Only  Fresh  can  use  the  patented  combination  of  amazing  ingre- 
dients which  gives  you  a  safe,  smooth  cream  that  doesn't  dry 
out .  .  .  that  really  stops  perspiration  better. 


87 


My  Winning  Nights  with  Heidt 

(Continued  on  page  49) 


FLORIDA   FASHIONS    SANFORD  882    FLORIDA 
I   Please  send  .."Susan  Sanfords"  on  approval 

Iol  $3.98  each,  plus  postage  and  C.O.D.  charges. 
If   not   delighted,    I    may    return    purchase    within 

■  ten   days   for   refund.    (You   may   enclose   purchase 
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I  Circle  Color:  Pink,  Blue  &  Lime    Gray,  Rose  &  Green 

■  Circle  Siie:     12      14      16      18      20     40     42 


88 


Name 


Address 


City  &  State 


m 


This  was  the  beginning  of  what  the 
radio  announcer  on  the  program  lavish- 
ly calls  my  "triumphal  cross  country 
championship  tour"  but  what  I  consid- 
ered privately  to  be  "the  miracle  of  the 
bellows." 

But  before  I  talk  about  that,  I'd  like 
to  go  back  to  the  very  beginning  of  my 
story. 

From  the  time  Dad  won  Mother's 
hand  by  serenading  her  with  his  accor- 
dion, that  instrument  has  played  a  dom- 
inant role  in  my  life.  Dad  came  from 
Sicily  where  the  accordion  has  always 
been  a  favorite  instrument.  Mother  was 
an  old  fashioned  girl  even  though  she 
was  born  in  Pittsburgh,  so  with  my  ma- 
ternal grandpa  sitting  discreetly  be- 
tween them  on  the  couch,  Dad  had  to 
let  the  accordion  do  most  of  his  talking. 

MARRIAGE  to  mother  put  an  end  to 
my  father's  role  as  a  romantic  musi- 
cal vagabond.  They  §ettled  down  in 
Fresno,  California  and  started  a  butcher 
shop.  The  accordion  lay,  gathering  dust, 
until  I  was  old  enough  to  toddle  around. 
At  that  point  my  parents  were  always 
afraid  that  I'd  hurt  myself  badly  if  I 
ever  succeeded  in  my  attempts  to  pull 
it  down  off  its  shelf.  As  a  kid,  I  was 
always  crazy  about  the  accordion,  but 
when  I  asked  for  one  of  my  own,  the 
answer  was  always: 

"Wait  until  your  taller.  You  have  to 
be  a  big  boy  to  handle  an  accordion." 

Finally  when  my  thirteenth  birthday 
rolled  around,  the  long  wait  was  over. 
My  parents  proudly  presented  me  with 
an  accordion  that  was  the  best  money 
could  buy,  and  built  especially  to  my 
measurements.  I  was  almost  bursting 
with  joy.  I  knew  that  years  of  work 
and  sacrifice  had  gone  for  the  money 
it  took  to  buy  that  accordion.  Mom  had 
to  be  a  "butcher  lady"  by  day  and  cook, 
housekeeper  and  guardian  angel  for  her 
growing  family  in  every  other  •  spare 
moment.  Dad  had  scrimped  and  gone 
without  many  things  too,  in  order  to 
give  me  what  I  wanted. 

As  fate  would  have  it,  the  very  next 
year  I  shot  up  like  a  weed.  The  irony 
of  it  all  was  unbearable.  I  had  waited 
twelve  years  to  be  big  enough  to  play 
the  accordion,  my  parents  had  saved 
all  that  time  to  buy  it,  and  then  I  had 
outgrown  my  instrument  in  less  than 
ten  months.  Mom  and  Dad  grimly  set 
their  lips,  gave  me  a  look  which  im- 
plied that  I  had  better  not  pull  a  stunt 
like  that  again,  took  my  precious  in- 
strument, traded  it  in  on  a  new  one. 

From  then  on,  it  was  practice,  prac- 
tice, practice,  and  for  variety,  a  little 
more  practice.  When  I  first  went  to  San 
Francisco  to  meet  my  teacher,  Angelo 
Cagnazzo,  he  threw  up  his  hands  in 
horror  at  my  fumbling  attempts. 

"You  call  this  music?"  he  bellowed. 
"Stop!  Stop!  Your  technique  is  terrible. 
Here,  let  me  show  you  .  .  ." 

And  he  did.  He  taught  me  everything 
.1  needed  to  know  plus  giving  me  that 
extra  something  that  makes  a  great 
teacher  more  of  an  inspiration  than  a 
task-master.  I  gladly  traveled  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  to  San  Fran- 
cisco and  back  every  weekend  because 
there  was  no  one  else  quite  like  Mr. 
Cagnazzo.  He  took  advantage  of  every 
spark  of  talent  I  possessed.  I  worked 
an  average  of  five  hours  a  day,  and  I 
have  spent  as  much  as  thirteen  hours 
in  one  day  on  the  accordion.  But  "for 
love  or  money"  my  efforts  have  been 


amply  repaid.  At  the  time  though,  I 
worked  so  hard  at  my  music  that  it 
worried  my  Mom.  One  day  she  dragged 
me  to  the  doctor. 

"Can  there  be  something  wrong  with 
Dick?"  she  asked  the  doctor  anxiously. 
"He  never  goes  out  and  has  fights  like 
the  other  kids  in  the  neighborhood.  He'd 
rather  practice  or  listen  to  music." 

There  was  one  time  though  when  I 
was  almost  torn  in  two  by  conflicting 
desires.  Californians  are  great  sports 
fans,  and  in  the  high  schools  especially, 
a  boy  doesn't  rate  unless  he's  a  star 
athlete.  I'm  six  feet  tall  and  weigh  one 
hundred  and  seventy  pounds,  so  when 
I  was  approached  to  try  out  for  the  foot- 
ball team  at  Fresno  High,  I  was  only 
too  happy  to  attend  the  first  practice 
session.  That  night,  after  practice,  my 
father  sat  down  with  me. 

"You  like  football  a  lot,  don't  you?" 
he  asked  quietly. 

"I'm  crazy  about  it,"  I  admitted. 

"You  know  that  one  football  injury 
.  can  ruin  your  hands  for  the  accordion." 

"Gee,  Dad,"  I  replied,  struck  by  the 
truth  of  his  statement.  "I  hadn't  real- 
ized that." 

The  next  day  I  went  down  to  the 
coach's  office  and  asked  him  to  excuse 
me.  That  was  the  first  real  sacrifice  I 
ever  had  to  make  for  my  music. 

Later  on,  in  high  school,  I  was  kept 
so  busy  that  I  didn't  have  time  to  worry 
about  football.  I  was  doing  an  early 
morning  all-request  program  for  station 
KARM  which  was  a  lot  of  fun  except 
for  one  thing.  I  had  to  do  my  own  radio 
announcing  and  that  threw  me  for  a 
while.  But  Bob  Carlson  and  John  Gar- 
rick  at  the  station  made  me  do  it,  and 
as  it  turned  out,  it  was  good  training 
for  the  little  "thank-you"  speeches  I 
had  to  ad  lib  later  with  Horace  Heidt. 

IN  addition  to  the  morning  broadcasts, 
I  was  working  nights  at  the  Cali- 
fornia Hotel  in  Fresno  with  Lou  Math's 
orchestra.  I  had  always  planned  to 
work  with  an  orchestra  or  with  what 
musicians  call  a  "combo,"  but  my 
mother  wanted  me  to  be  a  soloist.  She 
would  watch  me  perform  and  say: 

"When  you  stand  up  there  alone, 
Dick,  you  play  with  your  heart.  I  can 
tell." 

I  guess  she  was  right.  It  was  as  a 
soloist  that  I  competed  on  the  Horace 
Heidt  program  from  Fresno. 

That  first  coast  to  coast  broadcast  was 
very  hard  on  my  nerves.  For  three  days 
before  it,  I  couldn't  eat. 

"Dick,  why  are  you  so  upset?"  my 
mother  chided  me  gently.  "The  broad- 
cast will  be  held  in  Fresno.  It's  your 
home  town.  Everybody  knows  you 
here." 

The  audience  was  filled  with  people 
I  knew,  but  they  might  have  been  total 
strangers  for  all  the  confidence  I  had 
in  their  reception  of  me.  Besides,  there 
was  Halyard  Patterson,  a  boy  I'd  known 
from  Fresno  High,  setting  a  swift  pace 
with  his  tricky,  brilliant  piano  styling. 

I  knew  I  had  just  barely  beaten  him 
out,  when  the  official  judges  announced 
that  it  was  "Dick  Contino,  plus  thirty." 
The  words  meant  I  had  won. 

The  next  day  I  boarded  the  special 
car  that  was  taking  Horace  Heidt's  band 
to  Los  Angeles.  Mr.  Heidt  had  reassured 
my  folks  that  I  would  be  well  taken 
care  of,  but  I  was  feeling  very  lonely 
in  spite  of  my  excitement,  when  I  saw 
a  small,  lively  boy  dressed  in  a  white 


sweater  and  blue  slacks  come  hurrying 
down  the  aisle  of  the  car  towards  me. 
"Hiya,"  he  said,  grinning  amiably  and 
offering  his  hand.  "I'm  Harold  Peck 
from  Hollywood  High  and  I  think  we 
ought  to  get  acquainted  because  we're 
going  to  be  roommates." 

IT  turned  out  that  Harold  was  a  dancer 
and  he  had  caught  Mr.  Heidt's  eye 
during  the  Hollywood  show.  Harold  is  a 
little  firecracker,  always  joking  and  al- 
ways ready  to  go  out  on  some  illogical 
jaunt  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  long 
after  our  shows  are  over.  I  don't  think 
that  there  are  many  guys  who  would 
pull  themselves  out  of  bed  at  three  a.m. 
to  go  down  and  eat  spaghetti.  But 
"Peppy"  Peck  and  I  get  along  fine. 

On  the  second  broadcast,  I  had  to 
compete  against  students  from  the  Uni- 
versity of  Southern  California  before 
an  all-USC  audience.  I  didn't  have 
much  hope  of  winning  against  one  of 
the  school's  favorite  sons. 

If  anything,  those  kids  at  USC  leaned 
over  backwards  in  their  effort  to  give 
me  a  square  deal.  In  spite  of  my  ex- 
treme nervousness,  once  I  got  up  to 
play,  everything  went  smoothly  and  I 
won  my  second  contest. 

The  third  and  fourth  shows  were 
given  in  Van  Nuys  and  Pasadena,  Cali- 
fornia. To  my  continuing  amazement  I 
kept  winning.  The  more  shows  I  won, 
the  more  tense  I  became.  It  was  getting 
harder  and  harder  to  face  the  ever- 
present  prospect  of  losing.  Our  fifth 
show  was  scheduled  for  Omaha,  Ne- 
braska and  all  the  wise-guys  who  had 
never  been  out  of  New  York  or  Holly- 
wood before,  told  me: 

"Omaha?  You  got  nothing  to  worry 
about,  kid.  What  possible  talent  can 
there  be  in  Omaha?  Probably  they'll 
have  to  hunt  high  and  low  to  find 
enough  contestants  for  the  show." 

I  didn't  say  anything  to  the  boys 
then,  but  I  had  my  doubts.  Sure  enough, 
when  the  call  for  talent  went  out,  Mr. 
Heidt  received  a  flood  of  two  thousand 
applicants,  and  of  course  he  auditioned 
every  single  one  of  them.  Out  of  that 
grouo  came  Harold  Parr  and  Johnny 
Vanna. 

Johnny  was  a  boy  of  fourteen  who 
could  play  three  instruments  as  well  as 
I  could  play  my  accordion.  Harold  Parr, 
who  has  a  deep,  rich  baritone  voice  was 
a  graduate  of  the  Nebraska  School  for 
the  Blind.  Both  of  them  were  so  sen- 
sational that  there  was  a  split  audience 
vote!  It  was  mighty  close,  but  the  ap- 
plause meter  showed  a  small  margin  in 
my  favor  so  I  just  squeaked  through. 

After  that  Omaha  show  I  called 
Fresno  and  found  that  fifty  members 
of  our  family  had  gathered  to  yell  their 
congratulations  over  the  long  distance 
wires.  It  made  me  realize  all  over  again 
that  my  family  was  my  first  and  best 
group  of  fans.  They  told  me  that  my 
Uncle  Dan  had  his  garage  business  dis- 
play window  full  of  pictures  and  write- 
ups  about  me.  That  kind  of  loyalty  and 
family  pride  was  true  of  every  one  of 
my  relatives  and  I'll  always  be  grate- 
ful for  it. 

Aside  from  missing  the  folks,  life  on 
the  road  can  sometimes  be  very  trying. 
Most  of  my  fans  are  wonderful  friends 
who  have  helped  me  greatly  in  the  suc- 
cess I  have  had  so  far.  I'm  especially 
proud  of  the  fact  that  there  are  so  many 
boys  who  write  me  letters  and  boost 
me  in  their  home  towns.  But  in  one  of 
the  largest  cities  in  the  United  States  I 
ran  across  a  girl  who  was  more  phony 
than  fan  and  she  almost  got  me  into  a 
lot  of  trouble. 

She  first  popped   into   my   dressing- 


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90 


room  one  afternoon  and  announced, 
"I'm  going  to  do  some  publicity  write- 
ups  on  you." 

"That's  nice,"  I  answered.  Since  pub- 
licity writers  look  very  much  like  other 
people  I  had  no  reason  to  suspect  that 
she  wasn't  one  of  them.  "What  paper 
do  you  write  for?"  I  asked. 

"I'm  very  sorry  but  I  can't  tell  you," 
she  said  mysteriously.  I  should  have 
realized  then  that  something  was  wrong. 

We  didn't  have  time  for  an  interview 
that  afternoon,  but  she  came  back  the 
same  evening.  I  explained  that  I  was 
due  at  an  accordion  studio  for  a  re- 
hearsal. 

"I'll  come  too,"  she  said  firmly. 

From  then  on  I  couldn't  get  rid  of 
her.  She  followed  me  everywhere. 
After  a  day  or  so  she  stopped  pretend- 
ing that  she  was  a  publicity  writer  and 
told  me  that  she  could  teach  me  some 
wonderful  secret  tricks  on  the  accor- 
dion. This  sounded  even  sillier  than 
the  publicity  story  and  I  told  her  so. 
But  she  continued  to  hang  around. 

One  night,  the  whole  thing  came  to 
a  climax.  We  had  done  six  stage  shows 
that  day,  and  at  eleven  thirty,  Harold 
Peck  and  I  were  both  dead  tired.  I 
called  down  to  the  stage-door  to  see  if 
my  "fan"  was  still  there.   She  was. 

"Waiting  to  have  a  midnight  snack 
with  you,"  was  the  message  the  stage- 
door  man  relayed. 

"Let's  wait  up  here  in  the  dressing 
room  until  she  gets  tired  and  goes 
away,"  suggested  Harold  Peck. 

We  sat  there  for  over  an  hour,  prac- 
tically falling  asleep  on  each  other's 
shoulders.  Then  Harold  went  out  and 
took  a  peek  at  the  stage-door.  She  was 
still  there. 

"We  have  to  do  something,"  he  an- 
nounced dramatically.  I  followed  his 
gaze  to  the  fire-escape  outside  of  our 
dressing  room  window.  We  nodded  to 
each  other.  Very  quietly  we  put  on 
our  coats  and  started  climbing  down  the 
three  stories  to  the  sidewalk.  The  street 
below  was  still  brightly  lit  and  the 
weekend  crowds  milled  about.  Keeping 
a  weather  eye  out  for  the  policeman 
standing  on  the  corner,  we  proceeded 
down  the  side  of  the  building. 

Finally  we  reached  the  bottom  and 
just  as  we  were  about  to  drop  the  last 
six  feet  to  the  sidewalk,  our  lady  of 
the  stage  door  spotted  us.  Then  with 
her  eyes  blazing  and  her  hands  on  her 
hips,  she  began  to  call  us  some  pretty 
awful  names.  For  a  minute  or  two  we 
just  dangled  there  above  the  sidewalk 
while  an  amused  crowd  gathered  below 


us  to  watch  the  spectacle.  This  was  too 
much,  especially  since  the  corner  po- 
liceman was  heading  our  way.  Without 
a  word,  Harold  and  I  jumped  right  into 
the  middle  of  the  crowd  and  hightailed 
it  down  the  street. 

"You'll  never  get  very  far  in  show 
business  with  your  attitude,"  she 
screamed,  her  voice  fading  in  the  dis- 
tance. I  thought  of  all  the  things  I 
could  have  told  her  when  it  was  too 
late,  for  she  never  showed  up  again. 

That  incident  was  just  one  little  thorn 
in  an  otherwise  perfect  bed  of  roses. 
I  went  on  with  Mr.  Heidt  through  Des 
Moines,  Minneapolis,  Youngstown  and 
Cleveland.  The  .competition  didn't  les- 
sen in  the  slightest.  Every  one  of  those 
performers  was  outstanding,  and  Dick 
Melari  from  Cleveland  really  had  me 
jumping  there  with  his  sensational 
imitations  of  the  top  crooners. 

The  stop  after  Cleveland  was  none 
other  than  Brooklyn,  and  it  was  there 
that  I  was  sure  my  "championship 
streak"  would  be  abruptly  ended. 
Brooklynites  are  famous  for  the  way 
they  stick  together  and  boost  each  other. 

Yet  when  I  got  up  to  play,  they  were 
as  good  to  me  as  if  I  were  a  native 
of  Flatbush. 

After  Brooklyn,  came  contests  in  the 
Bronx,  Long  Island,  and  Manhattan.  I 
was  holding  my  breath.  I  had  won 
thirteen  times  straight,  and  the  four- 
teenth program  was  the  quarter-finals. 

Then,  that  fourteenth  Sunday  night, 
with  my  Mom  and  Dad  sitting  in  the 
audience  in  New  York,  taking  their  first 
vacation  after  fifteen  years  of  sacrifice 
and  hard  work  in  their  butcher  shop,  I 
knew  I'd  have  to  win  ...  for  them.  I 
played  with  all  the  heart  and  skill 
I  possessed  and  sat  down  still  dizzy 
with  tension  and  excitement.  The  five 
minutes  that  elapsed  between  my  num- 
ber and  the  decision  of  the  judges  in 
the  audience  seemed  like  an  eternity. 
When  the  announcer  finally  broke  the 
news  that  I  had  won  my  fourteenth 
straight  victory  and  the  seven  hundred 
and  fifty  dollar  prize,  I  was  happier 
than  at  any  time  before  in  my  life. 

Right  now  I  have  a  weekly  guest  spot 
on  the  Horace  Heidt  Talent  Contest  and 
of  course  I'm  still  touring  with  Mr. 
Heidt's  stage  show.  There  won't  be  any 
more  competition  for  me  until  the  finals 
roll  around  in  six  months,  with  a  grand 
prize  of  five  thousand  dollars  at  stake. 
Until  then,  I  can  relax,  see  the  country, 
take  a  little  time  out  for  dreaming,  and 
enjoy  the  friendship  of  the  wonderful 
people  who  helped  all  this  happen  to  me. 


out  o£  mcf,  m&ututy&f 

— So  writes  one  devoted  listener  to  "My 
True  Story"  Radio  Program.  "These  dramas 
are  so  rrue  to  life  they  absorb  my  attention 
completely.  I  listen  while  I  work — and  the 
housework  gets  done  without  drudgery!" 
Listen  to  radio's  greatest  morning  show — 
presenting  a  complete  true-life  drama  every 
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<*  "MY  TRUE  STORY" 

American  Broadcasting  Company 


Come  and  Visit 
Don  McNeill 

(Continued  from  page  33) 

Merchandise  Mart  studios,  and  arrived 
at  the  McNeills'  limestone  house  at 
6:30  some  morning,  you'd  find  the  real 
warm-up  for  the  Breakfast  Club  in 
progress. 

When  the  Breakfast  Club  first  started, 
Kay  took  the  responsibility  of  getting 
Don  roused,  fed,  and  out  of  the  house 
with  a  smile  on  his  face.  Now  it's  the 
boys'  job,  and  both  Don  and  the  kids 
love  it. 

You'll  find  them  lined  up  at  the  nar- 
row curving  table  that  faces  the  yellow- 
curtained  bay  window,  looking  out  on 
the  big  back  yard  which  becomes,  in 
successive  seasons,  a  baseball  diamond, 
a  gridiron,  a  winter  sports  playground 
and  a  basketball  court. 

Though  you  face  west,  you  get  the  im- 
pression of  floods  of  sunshine,  for  the 
room  is  designed  to  bring  dawn  in  early. 

WALLS  are  white,  and  the  trim  yellow. 
The  big,  solid,  modern  dining  table 
behind  the  little  group  has  the  rich 
golden  tone  of  the  white  mahogany  that 
decorators  call  prima  vera.  The  deeply 
cushioned  chairs  are  upholstered  in  a 
silvery  shade  of  green  that  most  closely 
matches  a  distant  forest  in  the  spring. 

You  might,  some  typical  morning, 
hear  Don  ask,  "Tommy,  what  are  you 
going  to  do  when  you  grow  up?"  He 
has  seen  that  answer  being  lived  out 
over  thirteen  years,  but  he  wants  it  in 
his  son's  own  words. 

There's  a  map  of  old  Erin  on  the  boy's 
round  face,  and  a  thatch  of  red  hair  to 
top  it. 

"I  think  I'll  be  a  mechanical  engineer, 
an  architect  and  an  artist." 

"Donny?" 

Slight,  wiry  and  intense,  the  second  in 
line  has  a  reply  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue. 
"I'm  going  to  be  an  All- American  foot- 
ball player." 

For  big  Don,  that's  the  echo  of  a  child- 
hood aspiration  which  illness  blocked. 

One  lad  remains  on  the  roll  call. 
Though  only  seven,  the  youngest  al- 
ready does  tricks  with  words.  He  could, 
eventually,  repeat  Don's  own  major  in 
journalism. 

"Bobby?" 

It's  an  elfin  grin  the  leprechauns 
themselves  could  have  loved  that  the 
small  one  turns  to  him. 

"I'm  going  to  be  an  engineer  on  a 
streamliner.  I'm  going  to  take  big  trains 
over  the  mountains  and  past  cowboys 
and  Indians  and  soldiers.  I'm  going  to 
run  them  faster  than  they've  ever  run 
before  .  .  ." 

He  stops.  His  dream  outdistances  his 
voice. 

Don  encourages,  "That's  quite  a  job, 
isn't  it?" 

Bobby  considers.  "I  suppose  so."  Then 
the  grin  breaks  through  again.  "I  know 
what.  I'll  go  on  radio.  Then  I'll  never 
have  to  work.   I'll  just  talk." 

They  have,  in  a  day  when  metropoli- 
tan living  leaves  many  youngsters  with 
only  a  vague  idea  of  how  their  fathers 
earn  the  family  bread  and  butter,  an 
old-fashioned  apprenticeship  relation 
to  work. 

It's  in  keeping  with  traditions  of  the 
clan.  Back  in  Kenosha,  Wisconsin,  Don 
trailed  his  father,  Harry,  around  the 
family's  furniture  factory.  Harry,  in 
turn,  had  learned  the  business  from 
his  father,  Tom. 

The  same  father-to-son  chain  has 
been  carried  on  in  the  McNeills'  major 


trw  Ignorance  and  Yruiem 

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Learn  here  the  REAL  TRUTH  about  these  Intimate  Physical  Facts! 


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intimate  physical  facts.  And  she's  too 
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following  ignorant  advice  of  'sup- 
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So  here's  really  a  chance  to  learn 
scientific  truth  you  can  trust.  Girls, 
you  simply  must  realize  how  impor- 
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health  and  marriage  happiness  —  to 
combat  one  of  woman's  most  embar- 
rassing deodorant  problems.  And 
what's  so  very  important — learn  why 
you  should  put  zonite  in  your  douche. 

Truly  A  Modern  Miracle! 

Scientists  tested  every  generally 
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NO  OTHER  TYPE  proved  SO  POWERFUL 

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the  slightest  risk  of  injury.  It's  posi- 
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Zonite  Principle  Developed  By 
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The  zonite  principle  was  developed  by 
a  world-famous  Surgeon  and  Scientist. 
What  better  assurance  could  you 
want?  zonite  destroys  and  removes 
odor-causing  waste  substances,  helps 
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germ  it  touches.  You  know  it's  not 
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**  J                  >     Address- 
»     City 


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Sioi. 


91 


LITTLE   LULU 


*"VA«x/ws>ai 


rH'm-m...all  alike!  But  only  Kleenex  is  'just  like'  Kleenex!" 


Little  Lulu  says . . .  Compare  tissues — compare  boxes — and  you'll 
see  why  Kleenex*  is  America's  favorite  tissue.  With  Kleenex, 
you  pull  just  one  double  tissue  at  a  time— and  up  pops  another! 


©  International  Cellucotton  Products  Co. 


*T.  M   Reg.  TJ.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


•#- 


of  facts  about 
these 

—  ^i»"~«agi*= 
^7/\\^/|\\N<: 
Two  blocks  of 
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backof  bowls  and 
handles  of  most 
used  spoons  and 
forks  make  this 
silverplate  finer, 
different .  .  .  stay 
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Fifty-two  piece 
set  $68.50  with 
chest.  (No  Fed- 
eral Tax.)  All 
patterns  made  in 
the  V.  S.  A. 


HOLMES  &  EDWARDS 

STERLING  INLAID* 

SILVERPLATE 


R 
M 

92 


Copyright  1948,  H»  International  Silver  Co.,  Holmes  i  Edwards  Division, 
M«idin.  Conn.  Sold  it)  Canada  bj:  The  f.  Elton  Co.,  ltd.  °Ret.U.S.Pil.Otf. 


Famous  Model  Reveals 
"Smooth  Hair-do"  Secret 

"Any  girl  can  have  a  glamour  hair-do, 
and  keep  it  neat  all  day,  if  she'll  do  what 
I  do  —  pat  a  drop  or  two  of  Nestle 
hairlac  on  her  finished  coiffure"  says 
June  Kirby,  world-famous  model. 

You'll  be  amazed  at  the  difference 
HAIRLAC  makes!  Famous  photographers 
and  models  know!  hairlac  is  delicately 
scented,  absolutely  harmless— keeps  your 
hair  smooth  and  glamorous  all  day  long. 
Get  Nestle  hairlac  at  your  drug  or 
department  store  today.  The  50£  bottle] 
asts  a  long,  long  time. 


hobby.  The  ancestor,  Tom,  working  for 
wild-life  conservation  in  a  day  when 
many  regarded  fish  and  game  as  limit- 
less, earned  a  reputation  as  the  Izaak 
Walton  of  Wisconsin.  Don  and  his 
father  go  on  fishing  trips  together 
today,  and  they  are  passing  on  the  lore, 
to  the  boys. 

Don  McNeill,  the  father,  leaves  Don 
McNeill,  the  star,  at  the  studio. 

Other  members  of  the  Breakfast  Club 
cast  tell  you  that  when  they  get  together 
for  a  party  and  play  charades,  as  they 
frequently  do,  Don  McNeill  is  the  guy 
who  turns  into  the  curtain  puller,  or  sits 
on  the  sidelines  and  constitutes  a  highly 
appreciative  audience  for  their  antics. 

They  also  remind  you  that  few  per- 
sons realize  how  shy,  studious  and 
quiet  he  is  once  his  daily  performance 
is  over. 

Though  master  of  his  own  house,  he's 
no  tyrant.  He  leaves  the  boys  room  to 
grow  and  tries  to  help  them  meet  those 
special  problems  which  face  the  sons  of 
a  celebrated  father. 

For  such  children  do  have  problems. 
Tommy  summed  it  up  when  asked, 
"What's  the  toughest  part  of  being 
Don  McNeill's  son?" 

Tommy's  face  was  solemn  and  his 
voice  serious.  "People  expect  an 
awful  lot  of  us." 

AT  thirteen,  he  understands  how  every 
action  falls  under  the  glaring  ex- 
aggeration of  the  spotlight.  If  a  young 
McNeill  gets  a  C  in  spelling,  he's 
labeled  stupid!  If  he  pulls  a  girl's  pig- 
tails, he's  a  young  fiend;  if  he  raids  the 
neighbor's  apple  tree,  he's  a  potential 
delinquent.  Normal  mischief  can  as- 
sume serious  proportions. 

Don  works  to  meet  this  threat. 

He  believes  that  if  all  youngsters  had 
a  chance  to  work  off  their  surplus 
energy  in  athletics  and  outdoor  sports, 
there  would  be  no  juvenile  delinquents. 

He  finds  time  to  join  his  boys  in  their 
play.  Late  afternoon  usually  finds  the 
four  of  them  engaged  in  a  miniature 
basketball  game  out  in  that  big  back 
yard,  with  the  housekeeper,  Gladys 
Rockwell  as  referee.  Gladys,  in  addi- 
tion to  being  able  to  cook,  boasts  a 
physical  education  major  from  La- 
Crosse  Teachers  College,  and  one  of  her 
own  sons  is  high  school  basketball  star. 

Don's  associates  at  the  studio  will  also 
tell  you  he  knows  more  about  the  boys' 
school  work  than  most  fathers  do. 
Notice,  when  listening  to  his  shows,  how 
patly  he  questions  a  boy  or  girl.  Usu- 
ally he  seems  to  know  exactly  just 
what  school  interests  a  child  of  a  cer- 
tain age  will  have. 

The  boys'  hobbies  rated  equal  to  Don's 
own  great  enthusiasm  for  fishing  when 
the  McNeills  planned  the  remodel- 
ing of  the  newly  purchased  Winnetka 
house. 

Don's  special  room  is  the  first  floor 
den,  paneled  in  red  burled  birch  which 
his  father  helped  select,  and  furnished 
with  red  leather  chairs,  a  curved  desk 
and  a  built-in  gin  rummy  table.  Cab- 
inets, lining  one  wall,  provide  space  for 
fishing  tackle,  guns  and  ammunition. 

Tommy's  room  was  equipped  with  a 
desk  boasting  a  special  drawing  board 
that  swings  out  of  the  way  when  he 
wants  to  work  on  his  stamp  collection. 
Donny's  room  has  storage  space  for  his 
assortment  of  match-book  covers. 
Bobby's  quarters  allow  for  orderly  dis- 
posal of  his  collection  of  toy  soldiers, 
guns,  knives  and  locks. 

Best  of  all,  each  room  was  given  a 
secret  compartment  for  the  safekeeping 
of  those  special  treasures  every  boy 
hoards. 

It's  Kay  who  stars  at  home.  She  earns 


her  right  to  that  stardom  by  living  for 
them  all. 

When  Kay  appears  on  the  Breakfast 
Club,  Don  carries  the  show.  At  home, 
the  roles  are  reversed.  Kay  is  a  born 
stage  manager. 

She'll  tell  you  that  they  do  little  en- 
tertaining. Because  of  the  early  pro- 
gram, night  life  at  the  McNeills'  begins 
with  dinner  at  6  P.M.,  and  ends  prompt- 
ly at  10. 

Their  friends  say,  however,  that  when 
the  McNeills  do  entertain,  everyone  has 
a  magnificently  good  time. 

Even  the  big  housewarming  was  fun. 
Nearly  a  hundred  guests  splashed 
through  a  late  fall  rain,  when  the  re- 
decorating of  the  new  house  finally  was 
finished. 

First  house  guests  to  initiate  the  new 
guest  room  were  the  Stanley  Morners. 
Don  and  Stan  worked  together  in  the 
old  days.  The  world,  however,  knows 
Stan  better  as  Dennis  Morgan,  star  of 
many  musical  pictures. 

When  yawns  finally  overpowered 
reminiscences,  Kay  and  Don  proudly 
ushered  them  to  the  room  she  likes  best. 

Located  just  at  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
it's  a  grown-up  version  of  that  pink  and 
blue  room  every  girl  dreams  up  for 
herself. 

Done  by  a  sophisticated  decorator, 
however,  the  pink  has  become  a  rose, 
and  the  blue  shades  to  a  sea  green. 
Quilted  white  chintz  spreads  deck  the 
Hollywood  beds,  the  deep  carpet  is  a 
soft  grayed-green  tone,  and  the  drapes 
are  the  deeper  sea  green  shade.  Walls 
are  papered  in  a  dainty  rose,  gold  and 
green  design.  Lamp  shades  blend  into 
the  motif. 

Morners  and  McNeills,  climbing  the 
gracefully  curved  staircase,  couldn't 
help  reflecting  that  there  had  been  some 
changes  made  since  the  days  they 
pinched  pennies  together.  Expecting  ohs 
and  ahs  as  they  saw  the  room,  Don 
nipped  a  switch. 

Every  light  in  the  house  turned  on. 

That  was  the  McNeills'  introduction 
to  a  burglar  alarm  system  former  resi- 
dents of  the  house  had  installed.  With 
the  decorating  job  just  completed  by 
Bernerd  Armstrong  and  his  associate, 
Virginia  Andrews,  Don  and  Kay  hadn't 
yet  had  time  to  discover  all  the  mys- 
teries of  the  house. 

Neither  had  they  found  the  trick  for 
turning  off  the  flood  of  light.  McNeills 
and  Morners  ran  through  the  rooms 
snapping  switches,  one  by  one. 


What's   life   like  in   the 

S<z*t  *pen*tcutda  1/aMecf? 

What   the    colorful    candid    pictures    don't 

tell   you.   the   story   will   ...   in   AUGUST 

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The  boys,  next  morning,  restored  star 
status.  Each  one  asked  Dennis  Morgan 
for  10  autographs.  Later  Kay  and  Don 
learned  the  youngsters  were  good  busi- 
ness men.  They  sold  them  to  their 
friends  for  a  dime  apiece. 

When  the  McNeills  returned  the  visit 
in  Hollywood,  the  Morner  children 
didn't  repeat  the  autograph  stunt,  but 
they  did  bring  all  their  pals  In  to  meet 
their  father's  friends. 

Through  it  all,  the  McNeills  have  an 
abundant  stock  of  old-fashioned  loving 
kindness. 

Louise  Murphy,  wife  of  Bob  Murphy, 
one  of  the  Breakfast  Club  announcers, 
recalls  with  gratitude  Kay's  help  the 
day  they  moved  from  Chicago  to  Wil- 
mette. 

What  to  do  with  the  four  young 
Murphys  almost  had  Louise  stumped. 
In  the  midst  of  the  turmoil,  Kay  drove 
up,  scooped  Dennis,  six,  Kay,  four,  and 
Mary  Jane,  two,  into  her  car.  Six- 
month-old  Joan  couldn't  leave  Louise, 
or  Kay  would  have  taken  her,  too. 

Throughout  the  day,  Kay  and  the  boys 
cared  for  the  children,  took  them  to  a 
nearby  pool  to  wade,  and  brought  them 
to  their  new  home  with  gifts  to  recall 
the  day.  Dennis  had  a  Boy  Scout  flash- 
light and  compass.  The  two  girls  shared 
a  big,  beautiful  blonde  doll,  complete 
with  wardrobe,  including  a  fur-trimmed 
coat. 

The  doll  had  a  ready-made  name,  too. 
But,  Louise  adds,  somewhere  on  the 
road  back  that  name  got  lost.  The  little 
girls  have  never  called  it  anything  but 
Kay. 

One  of  Don's  greatest  satisfactions 
comes  from  the  Breakfast  Clubbers' 
letters  which  begin:  "I  know  you're  a 
Methodist  because  .  .  ."  "You  must  be 
a  Christian  Scientist  .  .  ."  "You're  an 
Episcopalian,  aren't  you  .  .  ."  Through- 
out the  year,  almost  every  organized 
religious  group  will  be  named  many 
times. 

Actually,  as  their  families  were  be- 
fore them,  the  McNeills  are  Roman 
Catholics,  members  of  the  Faith,  Hope 
and  Charity  parish  in  Winnetka.  The 
two  older  boys  serve  at  the  altar.  Faith- 
ful in  his  attendance,  even  Don's  be- 
loved fishing  trips  are  planned  to  permit 
him  to  go  to  Mass.  With  his  religion,  as 
with  many  other  things  important  to 
him,  he  keeps  his  inner  life  to  himself. 

Others  find  him  a  sympathetic  lis- 
tener when  they  have  troubles,  but  he 
seldom  shares  his  own.  When  Tommy 
caught  polio  last  Summer,  he  had  been 
in  the  hospital  two  days  before  members 
of  the  Breakfast  Club  cast  learned  of  it. 
Even  after  they  found  out,  it  became 
something  they  didn't  discuss  with  Don. 


Finally,  when  the  crisis  had  passed, 
and  the  rumor  of  the  boy's  illness  had 
reached  the  newspapers,  Don,  during 
the  show,  asked  Maestro  Eddie  Ballen- 
tine  to  play  "Smoke,  Smoke,  Smoke," 
adding,  "It's  for  a  good  friend  of  mine, 
now  in  the  hospital.  It's  one  of  his 
favorite  numbers." 

The  music  finished,  he  explained  to 
the  Breakfast  Club  audience,  "That  good 
friend  happens  to  be  my  son,  Tom. 
We've  had  a  little  trouble  in  our  family. 
Tom  has  polio.  But,  thank  God,  the 
doctors  say  he  is  going  to  be  all  right." 

The  prayer  of  the  McNeills  and  the 
listeners  have  been  answered.  Tom  is 
all  right  today.  Look  at  those  wide 
shoulders  in  the  Radio  Mirror  pictures, 
and  you'd  swear  he  had  never  been 
sick  a  day  in  his  life. 

You  listeners,  the  American  Broad- 
casting Company,  and  the  sponsors  have 
asked  many  times  that  the  whole 
McNeill  family  become  a  regular  part 
of  the  Breakfast  Club  show. 

You'll  understand  now,  I  think,  why 
Don  hasn't  acceded  to  these  wishes.  At 
least  not  just  yet.  Kay  is  now  under 
contract  for  regular  appearances,  but 
the  boys'  studio  visits  are  still  limited 
to  a  few  times  a  year. 

He  wants  to  give  the  boys  a  chance 
for  a  normal  childhood.  He  wants  them 
to  grow  and  mature,  and  develop  a 
sense  of  values  before  they  get  caught 
up  in  the  whirl  of  big-time  broadcast- 
ing. 

If  he  can  help  it,  Don  McNeill  isn't 
going  to  let  anything  jeopardize  that 
little  family  growing  up  in  Winnetka. 

Part  of  Kay's  starring  role  in  the 
home  stems  from  the  elegant  specialty- 
of-the-house  dishes  she's  fond  of  serv- 
ing up  to  a  hungry  horde  of  McNeill 
men.  Here's  her  recipe  for  a  favorite 
family  treat: 

Coffee  Cake. 

'/2   cup   butter  2  fsp.   baking    powder 

2  cups  sugar  I    fsp.  vanilla 

4  eggs,  well   beaten  '/j  tsp.  salt 

3  cups  sifted  flour 

Cream  butter  well,  adding  sugar  and 
eggs.  Sift  salt,  baking  powder  and  flour 
together.  Add  to  butter  mixture,  al- 
ternating with  milk  and  vanilla. 

Filling 
2  cups  brown  sugar       l'/2  fsp.    melted    butter 
2  tablespoons  flour  2  tsp.  cinnamon 

I    cup  nut  meats   (optional) 

Cream  sugar  and  butter.  Add  other 
ingredients.  In  a  greased  pan,  put  one 
layer  of  batter,  then  a  layer  of  filling, 
until  you  have  five  layers.  Bake  at  375 
degrees  for  20  minutes. 


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b  Mlu&I  Find  out  how  you  can 
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Daytime — Monday  through  Friday 
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TRUE    ROMANCE    Magazine 


Twenty  Questions 

(Continued  jrom  page  41) 

Dad  and  Mom  had  recovered  from  their 
anxiety  about  their  guest's  injured  feel- 
ings, they  realized  that  Nancy  had  hit  on 
quite  an  idea. 

Van  was  so  excited  about  it  that  he 
promptly  took  the  suggestion  to  the 
Mutual  Broadcasting  System  and  they 
started  auditions  for  the  program  imme- 
diately. 

The  past  two  years  have  told  the  rest 
of  the  story. 

When  they  are  away  from  the  radio 
studio,  the  Vanderventers  quickly  for- 
get their  public  life.  They  live  in  a 
lovely  rambling  ranch-type  house  in 
Princeton,  New  Jersey,  close  to  Prince- 
ton University.  Florence  does  all  her 
own  cooking.  She  does  all  her  own 
gardening  as  well,  but  refuses  to  grow 
the  green  onions — scallions — that  Van 
adores.  A  considerate,  loving  wife  in 
every  respect,  she  draws  the  line  at 
green  onions  for  what  she  thinks  are 
pretty  good  reasons. 

Blue-eyed,  sandy-haired  Bobby  "Mc- 
Guire"  Vanderventer,  now  sixteen,  is  an 
average  student  at  Princeton  High 
School.  When  he  is  there,  Bobby  never 
mentions  his  radio  work  and  is  pro- 
foundly embarrassed  if  other  students 
or  teachers  bring  it  up.  Like  most  teen- 
agers, one  of  Bobby's  greatest  desires  is 
to  be  just  like  all  his  other  friends. 

ILTHOUGH  he  could  probably  main- 
il  tain  a  brilliant  scholastic  average, 
Bobby  spends  so  much  time  on  extra- 
curricular activities,  especially  with  the 
Boy  Scouts,  that  his  grades  are  just 
average.  But  both  his  parents  feel  that 
they'd  much  rather  have  an  all-around 
son  than  a  quiz  kid  in  the  house,  so  they 
let  Bobby  lead  his  own,  very  busy  life. 

Nancy,  their  daughter,  is  two  years 
older  than  Bob.  She  has  substituted 
for  him  on  Twenty  Questions  during  the 
summers  when  he  has  been  away  on 
Boy  Scout  affairs.  Many  listeners  have 
noticed  the  remarkable  resemblance  be- 
tween Nancy's  crisp  microphone  per- 
sonality and  that  of  her  father.  She 
looks  very  much  like  her  Dad  too  and 
has  his  dynamic,  restless  nature. 

Fair -haired,  petite,  and  attractive 
Florence  Rinard  comes  from  Farmlands, 
Indiana — that's  just  sixty  miles  from 
Van's  home  town  of  Tipton,  Indiana. 
They  didn't  meet  however  until  Flor- 
ence, then  a  supervisor  of  music  for 
several  Indiana  schools,  attended  a  High 
School  Music  Convention  in  Chicago. 
There,  a  sorority  sister  introduced  her 
to  a  dark,  energetic  newspaperman  who 
was  working  for  a  prominent  Chicago 
newspaper. 

He  was  very  anxious  to  take  her  on  a 
tour  of  the  city  because  she  had  never 
been  there  before.  By  the  time  their 
sight-seeing  jaunt  was  over,  they  had 
forgotten  about  local  points  of  interest 
and  were  concentrating  on  each  other. 
Four  months  later  Florence  married  the 
newspaperman  Fred  Vanderventer,  and 
started  on  a  life  that  has  had  its  ups  and 
downs  but  has  never  been  dull. 

After  her  marriage  to  Van,  Florence 
gave  up  her  job  as  a  music  supervisor 
and  teacher.  Things  went  well  for  a 
while,  but  by  the  time  Bobby  was  born 
and  Nancy  was  two  years  old,  the 
nation-wide  depression  hit  its  lowest 
point.    And  so  did  the  Vanderventers. 

It  is  significant  and  typical  of  them 
that  at  this  point  Van  and  Florence  put 
their  heads  together  and  came  up  with 
a  scheme  that  had  them  working  side 


Love-quiz 


. . .  For  Married  Folks  Only 


COULD  THIS   MARRIAGE 
HAVE  BEEN  SAVED? 

A.  Yes  .  .  .  had  the  wife  taken  heed  of  her  husband's  increasing 
coolness,  known  the  secret  of  thorough  feminine  hygiene,  kept 
herself  lovely  to  love. 

Q.   What  does  feminine  hygiene  have  to  do  with  married  happiness? 

A.  Far  more  than  some  women  realize  . . .  but  the  wise  wife  has 
the  assurance  of  complete  daintiness  when  she  uses  "Lysol" 
brand  disinfectant  regularly  in  the  douche. 

Q.  But  many  women  use  a  douche  only  now  and  then  ...  is  regularity 
important? 

A.  Yes,  indeed  ...  it  should  be  a  routine  procedure  with  every 
married  woman,  and  always  with  "Lysol."  Because  it  has  mar- 
velous deodorant  properties  due  to  its  proven  ability  to  kill  germs 
instantly  on  contact. 

Q.    How  about  homemade  solutions,  such  as  salt  and  soda? 

A.  They  are  old-fashioned  and  ineffectual,  not  to  be  compared  with 
"Lysol's"  scientific  formula.  "Lysol"  has  tested  efficiency  in 
contact  with  organic  matter.  It  is  both  effective  and  safe  for  deli- 
cate tissues  when  used  as  directed. 

ALWAYS  USE  "LYSOL"  in  the  douche  for  its  efficiency  in  combating  both  germs 
ond  odors.  It  will  help  you  feel  you  have  perfect  grooming,  "romance  appeal." 


Check  with  your  doctor 

Many  doctors  recommend  "Lysol" 
in  proper  solution  for  Feminine 
Hygiene,  because  it  is  non-caustic, 
gentle,  efficient.  Its  clean,  anti- 
septic odor  quickly  disappears, 


carrying  away  all  other  unpleas- 
ant odors.  It  is  so  highly  concen- 
trated that  it  is  very  economical 
to  use.  Follow  easy  directions  for 
correct  douching  solution.  Have 
it  always  handy  in  the  bathroom. 


For  Feminine 
Hygiene— always  use 


A  Concentrated  Germicide 


FREE  BOOKLET!  Learn  the  truth  about  intimate 
hygiene  and  its  important  role  in  married  happiness. 
Mail  this  coupon  to  lehn  &  Fink,  192  Bloomfield 
Avenue,  Bloomfield,  N.  J.,  for  frankly  informing 
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by  side  in  a  desperate  effort  to  keep 
their  family  going.  They  teamed  up, 
making  pies  and  cakes  in  their  own 
kitchen  which  they  marketed  through 
local  bakeries.  They  also  made  fudge 
at  home,  wrapped  it  in  cellophane,  and 
Van  sold  it  to  local  cigar  and  candy 
stores. 

For  Van  it  was  a  far  cry  from  his 
journalistic  career;  for  Florence  there 
was  no  music  in  the  job  but  it  kept  them 
together  and  it  kept  them  going  at  a 
time  when  anything  less  than  heroic 
effort  would  have  broken  up  the  family. 

Later  on,  things  began  to  pick  up  for 
the  Vanderventers.  They  moved  to  De- 
troit and  it  was  there  that  Van  started 
his  radio  newscasting.  After  a  few  years, 
Van  was  transferred  to  the  New  York 
studios    of   MBS. 

The  Vanderventers  started  to  play 
semi-educational  games  at  meal  times 
when  Nancy  and  Bobby  were  both  very 
young.  They  found  it  to  be  a  painless 
way  to  keep  the  children  well  informed 
as  well  as  to  divert  them  while  they 
ate  their  spinach.  Even  today  they  en- 
joy these  home  practice  sessions.  It 
keeps  them  in  trim,  and  although  they 
do  not  stress  it,  there  is  a  certain  amount 
of  competition  among  members  of  the 
family  to  see  who  can  get  most  answers. 

THE  radio  program  Twenty  Questions 
as  they  worked  it  out  is  a  kind  of  re- 
verse quiz  in  which  the  panel  of  ex- 
perts asks  the  master  of  ceremonies  any 
number  up  to  twenty  questions,  to 
which  he  answers  "yes"  or  "no."  From 
these  answers  they  have  to  deduce  the 
subject  they  are  seeking.  Here  in 
their  exact  words  is  the  way  in  which 
the  five-man  panel  ferreted  out  the  sub- 
ject "The  Slingshot  with  which  David 
killed  the  Giant  Goliath."  After  the 
studio  and  listening  audiences  had  been 
secretly  informed  of  the  topic  by  a 
placard  to  the  studio  and  an  off-stage 
microphone  to  the  home  listeners,  the 
questions  and  answers  began. 

Bob:  Is  it  wearing  apparel? 

Master  of  Ceremonies  Bill  Slater:  No. 

Florence:  Is  it  manufactured? 

Bill:  Yes,  you  might  say  that. 

Herb:   Is  it  connected  with  the  circus? 

Bill:  No. 

Guest,   Clown  Emmet  Kelly:    Is  it  an 

article  of  clothing? 
Bill:   No  it  is  not.    You  already  asked 

whether  it  was  wearing  apparel. 
Van:  Is  it  used  by  man? 
Bill:  Yes. 

Florence:  Is  it  edible? 
Bill:  No. 
Bobby:  Is  it  something  connected  with 

the  past? 
Bill:  Yes. 
Van:   Is  it  famous  for  the  person  with 

whom  it  is  connected? 
Bill:  Yes. 
Florence:  Was  this  person  with  whom  it 

is  connected  a  man? 
Bill:  Yes. 
Van:  Was  this  man  connected  with  the 

government? 
Bill:  No. 

Herb:  Was  he  in  mythology? 
Bill:  No. 

Bobby:  Was  he  an  ancient  character? 
Bill:  Yes,  very. 
Florence:  Was  he  biblical? 
Bill:    Yes.     Now   you're   really   on   the 

right  track. 
Florence:  Was  he  in  the  Old  Testament? 
Bill:  Yes. 

Bobby:  Was  it  David's  slingshot. 
Bill:  Yes.  You  got  it! 

At  the  beginning,  Van  was  the  only 
member  of  the  family  scheduled  for  the 


show.  At  the  last  minute,  one  of  the 
scheduled  participants  wired  that  she 
would  not  be  able  to  attend  the  audi- 
tion. Florence  pitched  in,  and  has 
been  there  ever  since,  under  her  maiden 
name  of  Florence  Rinard. 

Bobby  Vanderventer,  then  thirteen, 
took  an  audition,  and  like  his  mother, 
clicked  immediately.  He,  too,  changed 
his  name,  and  used  that  of  his  maternal 
grandmother  on  the  air.  As  Bobby  Mc- 
Guire  he  has  scored  some  wonderful 
answers  and  holds  the  all  time  record 
for  the  show  by  guessing  the  category, 
"Brooklyn  Dodgers"  on  the  very  first 
question.  It  seems  that  when  the 
placard  reading  "Brooklyn  Dodgers" 
was  shown  to  the  studio  audience  they 
let  out  such  a  roar  of  laughter  that 
Bobby,  a  baseball  fan  himself,  took  his 
striking  guess. 

Outside  of  the  Vanderventers,  the 
only  other  permanent  member  of  the 
panel  is  Herb  Polesie,  radio  and  mo- 
tion picture  producer.  Herb  is  a  quick 
man  with  a  spontaneous  joke  and  has 
continually  delighted  audiences  with  his 
dry  wit  and  unexpected  answers. 

For  Herb,  Twenty  Questions  is  a  fam- 
ily program  too.  Although  Herb's 
mother-in-law  has  never  been  heard 
on  the  air,  she  is  a  minor  celebrity. 
Invariably  when  a  tricky  topic  is  under 
discussion,  Herb  asks:  "Is  it  something 
I  would  give  to  my  mother-in-law?" 

Bill  Slater,  the  tall,  white-haired 
quiz-master  of  Twenty  Questions,  is 
known  affectionately  off  the  air  as  the 
"Colonel."  He  studied  at  West  Point  and 
his  checkered  career  has  ranged  from 
that  of  a  radio  sports  announcer  to 
headmaster  of  a  select  Long  Island  boys' 
school.  Bill  also  has  his  family  in  on 
the  proceedings.  His  attractive  wife 
prepares  all  his  notes,  and  does  the 
library  research  on  the  subjects  the  pro- 
gram covers. 

IT  is  very  important  for  Bill  to  be 
scrupulously  accurate  in  his  answers 
to  the  panel.  One  wrong  or  even  semi- 
correct  reply  might  throw  them  com- 
pletely off  the  track,  and  though  he  is 
one  of  the  best  ad-libbers  in  radio,  Bill 
is  often  on  the  spot  on  Twenty  Ques- 
tions. For  example,  when  he  was  asked 
if  the  subject  "The  Spike  on  the  Devil's 
Tail"  was  human  he  answered  after  a 
little  hesitation  .  .  .  "well,  not  quite 
human." 

Bill  likes  to  avoid  any  confusing 
answers  for  two  reasons.  If  he  leads 
them  astray,  the  Vanderventers  and 
Herb  will  rush  up  to  him  after  the 
broadcast  and  lay  the  blame  for  missing 
a  topic  right  in  his  lap.  Then  after  he 
has  quieted  their  incensed  feelings,  he 
spends  the  rest  of  the  week  reading 
hundreds  of  letters  from  equally  angry 
listeners  who  accuse  him  of  doing  the 
panel  an  injustice. 

It  is  pretty  certain  that  the  audience 
at  home  and  in  the  studio  is  pulling  one 
hundred  percent  for  the  panel.  How- 
ever, in  the  studio  the  roars  of  approval 
at  a  good  guess  and  the  roars  of  dis- 
approval at  a  bad  one  are  likely  to 
sound  very  much  alike  to  the  harried 
panel  members.  After  long  experience 
they  have  learned  to  ignore  the  sounds 
from  the  audience  and  concentrate. 
From  an  all-around  standpoint,  con- 
centration is  the  most  important  thing 
on  the  program. 

Since  the  program  started,  two  and 
one-half  years  ago,  the  categories  have 
become  progressively  more  difficult.  The 
early  subjects  were  fairly  simple  items 
such  as  "Truman's  Piano,"  "The  Atom 
Bomb,"  or  "Joe  DiMaggio's  Bat."  Now 
however   the   subjects   are   more  com- 


plex.  Typical  of  these  is  "The  Golden 
Book  in  which  the  Angel  Wrote"  from 
the  poem  Abou  Ben  Adhem,  or  "The 
Thorn  In  the  Lion's  Foot"  from  the 
legend  of  Androcles  and  the  Lion.  All 
the  topics  are  sent  in  by  listeners.  They 
are  taken  from  literature,  current 
events,  proverbs,  history,  famous  per- 
sonalities or  places,  and  just  about 
anything  else  that  might  be  fairly  com- 
mon knowledge. 

Generally  the  panel  prefers  subjects 
that  have  a  direct  connection  with  a 
famous  individual.  If,  for  example,  they 
can  pin  down  the  fact  that  the  topic 
has  something  to  do  with  John  L.  Lewis, 
it  is  a  very  easy  and  logical  step  to  the 
conclusion  that  they  are  after  John  L. 
Lewis'  Eyebrows. 

The  hardest  items  for  the  panel  to  get 
are  the  ones  they  call  "class  categories." 
By  this  they  mean  subjects  that  have  no 
personal,  or  fictional  associations. 

"To  get  a  subject  like  the  one  we  had 
recently,  'A  Can  Opener,'  is  practically 
impossible,"  says  Van.  "Once  we  got 
to  the  point  where  we  knew  we  were 
after  some  kitchen  utensil,  we  were 
sunk.  With  no  further  clues  to  go  on, 
we  could  have  named  every  pot,  pan, 
knife  and  fork  in  a  typical  kitchen 
before  we  reached  the  'Can  Opener.' 
These  class  categories  are  haphazard 
guesses  to  us,  and  the  audience  is  al- 
ways surprised  when  we  miss  them  be- 
cause they  seem  so  easy." 

DURING  its  two  years  on  the  air, 
Twenty  Questions  has  won  a  number 
of  laurels.  The  program  has  been  hon- 
ored by  the  American  College  Associa- 
tion for  its  educational  value.  The 
National  Parent  and  Teachers  Organi- 
zation has  given  it  top  rating  as  recom- 
mended listening.  For  two  years  it  has 
received  a  blue  ribbon  for  excellence 
from  the  New  Jersey  State  Fair  Com- 
mittee, and  Fred  Vanderventer  has  re- 
ceived an  honorary  degree  as  a  Doctor 
of  Letters  from  Ryder  College  in  New 
Jersey.  In  addition  to  all  of  this  recog- 
nition, Twenty  Questions  has  inspired 
several  imitators,  which  as  the  saying 
goes,  is  the  sincerest  form  of  flattery. 

The  British  Broadcasting  Company 
developed  a  popular  quiz  modeled  after 
our  American  program.  There  are  also 
radio  versions  of  the  game  in  France 
and  Japan.  Radio  Tokyo  calls  its  quiz 
Twenty  Doors.  All  of  this  attention  and 
success  has  left  the  Vanderventers'  life 
surprisingly  untouched. 

Florence  and  Van  are  still  as  modest 
as  they  were  in  the  days  when  they 
had  to  sell  fudge  to  candy  stores.  They 
think  that  they  have  been  very  lucky 
for  the  most  part,  and  the  fact  that 
their  names  are  household  words  all 
across  the  country  has  not  affected  their 
way  of  life. 

Usually,  on  Sunday  afternoons,  there 
are  several  of  the  Vanderventers' 
neighbors  in  the  living  room.  Most 
guests  drop  in  for  a  few  minutes  and 
end  up  by  staying  a  few  hours.  They 
very  frequently  play  games,  because  it 
would  be  hard  to  resist  an  invitation  to 
play  and  compete  with  America's  prime 
parlor  professors. 

Florence  has  gotten  used  to  the  fact 
that  some  of  her  precious  vases  and 
lamps  are  bound  to  be  knocked  around 
when  Van's  enthusiasm  for  the  game  of 
charades  gets  a  little  out  of  hand.  She  is 
also  used  to  the  rumpus  in  the  rumpus 
room  when  Van  and  Bobby  get  to- 
gether for  another  session  in  their  end- 
less ping-pong  tournament.  And  Nancy 
may  bring  sixteen  of  her  "very  best 
friends"  home  for  a  party,  but  it's  all 
in  a -full  day  at  the  Vanderventers. 


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Radio's  Number 
One  Fan 

(Continued  from  page  29) 

to  recognize  and  like  the  eager,  but 
always  well-behaved  youngster,  and  to 
feed  him  bits  of  news  not  available  to 
the  general  public. 

Gratefully,  Bill  saved  every  scrap  of 
information.  By  summer's  end  he  had 
compiled  a  complete  and  up-to-the- 
minute  file  of  every  single  audience 
show  originating  in  New  York  City.  Bill 
still  faithfully  puts  in  time  every  week 
on  this  compendium  revising  and  cor- 
recting it  as  changes  occur  and  the 
chances  are  that  he's  better  informed  on 
events  in  radio  than  many  an  editor. 

When  school  re-opened  in  the  fall, 
Bill  continued  to  attend  programs  in 
the  afternoon  and  evenings.  On  Sat- 
urdays and  Sundays  he  caught  shows 
from  9:00  A.M.  to  as  late  as  11:00  P.M., 
polishing  off  his  homework  between 
shows.  And  when  he  quit  school  in  the 
sixth  term  to  go  to  work,  due  to  strait- 
ened family  finances,  he  continued  to 
follow  this  routine. 

THE  surprising  part  of  it  is  that  Bill's 
interest  hasn't  the  slightest  material- 
istic taint.  He's  no  hero-worshipper 
or  autograph-hunter,  nor  is  he  mer- 
cenarily inclined.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
he  has  a  strong  dislike  for  quiz  shows, 
especially  those  which  award  prizes. 
With  the  true  zeal  of  the  simon-pure 
amateur,  he  abhors  the  "semi-pro" 
characters     who     haunt     the     studios. 

Bill  knows  just  as  definitely  what  he 
does  like.  His  favorite  forms  of  radio 
entertainment  are,  in  the  order  named: 
Dramatic,  Comedy,  Semi-Classical 
Music  and  Popular  Music.  His  first 
choice  in  dramatic  shows  is  Studio  One, 
with  Theater  Guild  On  The  Air  a  close 
runner-up.  Bill  rates  Fred  Allen,  Henry 
Morgan  and  Milton  Berle  the  best  com- 
ics on  the  air,  in  that  order.  In  the  field 
of  semi-classical  music,  Bill  is  equally 
fond  of  Morton  Gould,  Andre  Kostel- 
anetz  and  Fred  Waring. 

Though  he  is  too  modest  to  make  any 
such  pronouncement  himself,  Bill's 
tastes  reflect  an  admiration  for  proven 
competence  and,  above  all,  obvious  sin- 
cerity on  the  part  of  radio  people. 

Bill  even  owes  his  present  job  to 
radio,  if  only  indirectly.  About  a  year 
ago,  while  temporarily  unemployed,  he 
was,  as  usual,  wandering  through  the 
corridors  of  NBC,  between  shows.  It 
was  there  that  his  present  employer 
found,  questioned  and  hired  him.  Bill 
now  is  an  errand  boy  and  apprentice 
photographer  for  Camera  Associates,  a 
commercial  photography  firm  which 
does  work  for  radio  shows,  advertising 
agencies  and  for  Radio  Mirror. 

You'd  think  after  spending  so  much 
of  his  time  in  radio  studios  that  Bill 
would  be  dying  to  get  into  radio.  But 
it  just  isn't  so.  Bill's  ambitions  are 
centered  in  photography  and  his  bosses 
say  that  he  is  naturally  bright  and 
shows  a  real  aptitude  for  the  camera. 

Bill  had  a  girl  once  who  had  the  mak- 
ings of  a  true  radio  fan,  he  thought. 
But  she  insisted  on  dragging  him  to 
every  Frank  Sinatra  broadcast. 

"Shirley  would  sit  there  and  scream 
and  sigh,"  Bill  recalls  scornfully.  "I 
didn't  mind  sitting  through  a  Sinatra 
program — he  has  a  fair  voice — but  when 
she  had  the  nerve  to  ask  me  to  fight  my 
way  through  a  mob  of  crazy  bobby- 
soxers  to  get  an  autograph  from  The 
Voice  for  her,  that  was  the  end!" 


^"Aj&chOjeA 


^JW^Jft^.  Have  you  tried  Stillman's 

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aid  ?  It  is  not  only  a  freckle 
cream,  but  a  beauty  cream 
...  it  bleaches  and  beauti- 
fies the  skin,  giving  it  a 
glowing  radiance  ...  a 
softer,  smoother  look.  If  your  skin  is  dull 
and  lacks  youthful  sparkle  get  a  jar  of 
STILLMAN'S  FRECKLE  CREAM  today! 
Only  SOc  at  drug  and  cosmetic  counters.  A 
postal  card  brings  you  free  "BEAUTY  SUG- 
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Box  102 


Aurora,  Illinois 


BBM 


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OR  WITH  ROTENONE 

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EITHER  KIND:  J5c  *  50c 


MAKE  MONEY  FAST! 


SJU  CHRISTMAS  CARDS 

to  friends,  neighbors,  others.  Big  variety 
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cards.  Saints  'n'  Sinners,  Wrappings,  Sta- 
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Write  for  21-card  $1  Christmas  assortment 
on  approval  TODAY. 
.  HEDEHKAMP  &  CO,  343  Broadway,  Dept. » -9.    New  York  13.  N.  V. 


Checked  in  a  JIFFY 

Relieve  Itching  caused  by  eczemr ,  ath- 
lete's foot,  scabies,  pimples  and  other 
Itching  conditions.  Use  cooling,  medi- 
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stainless.  Soothes,  comforts  and  checks 
itching  fast.  35c  trial  bottle  proves  it— 
or  money  back.  Don't  suffer.  Ask  your 
druggist  today  for  D.  D.  D.  Prescription. 


INGROWN  NAIL 

Hurting  You? 

Immediate 
Relief! 

A  few  drops  of  OUTGRO  bring  blessed  relief  from 
tormenting  pain  of  ingrown  nail.  OUTGRO  tough- 
ens the  skin  underneath  the  nail,  allowing  the  nail 
to  be  cut  and  thus  preventing  further  pain  and  dis- 
comfort. OUTGRO  is  available  at  all  drug  counters. 

Whitehall  Pharmacal  Co.,  Dept.  MWG,  N.Y.  16,  N.Y. 


MILES 


due  to 
NERVOUS  TENSION 

NERVINE 


If  jittery  nerves  occasionally  get 
you  so  keyed-up  you  can't  relax,  try 
Miles  Nervine.  Use  only  as  directed; 
All  drug  stores — two  forms — Liquid 
Nervine  or    effervescent   tablets; 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page  61) 

daughter  of  a  dancing  girl  forgot  the  in- 
trigues of  the  palace  and  learned  to  be 
happy. 

Then,  on  the  same  sort  of  night  that 
had  hidden  their  flight  to  the  farm, 
Grace's  brother  slipped  out  into  the  jun- 
gle. Grace  told  me  that  he  had  never 
forgotten  his  Mohammedan  training, 
and  that  he  made  his  way  back  to  Bho- 
pal. 

Soon  after  that,  there  were  reports 
that  Grace's  brother,  with  family  pride 
at  stake,  was  organizing  a  force  to  re- 
turn to  the  Himalayas,  seize  Grace  and 
take  her  to  Bhopal. 

No  chances  were  taken,  and  Grace 
was  sent  to  America.  Shortly  after  that, 
the  Strong  family  also  came  to  America, 
to  buy  machinery  that  was  needed  for 
the  farm.  The  Strongs  met  Grace  in 
New  York  and  took  her  with  them  to 
their  old  home  at  Atlantic,  Iowa. 

The  Strongs  told  me  that  they  had  "no 
salary,  or  means  of  our  own."  Just  how 
they  were  going  to  buy  all  the  expensive 
farm  machinery  was  a  mystery — that  is, 
until  all  of  the  good  people  back  in  At- 
lantic heard  their  story.  Stocking  that 
distant,  mountain  farm  became  a  com- 
munity project,  and  every  last  piece  of 
needed  equipment  was  bought. 

"Just  how  are  you  going  to  get  all  of 
that  equipment  back  to  your  farm?"  I 
asked. 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Strong,  "we'll  go 
right  with  it — can't  afford  to  lose  it — on 
the  boat  to  Bombay.  Once  there,  instead 
of  taking  a  chance  on  the  Indian  rail- 
roads, we'll  load  the  family  and  camp 
equipment  in  a  camp  trailer,  hook  the 
trailer  and  our  new  threshing  machine 
on  back  of  our  new  tractor — and  drive 
1,000  miles  to  our  farm." 

I  looked  past  our  ABC  microphone 
at  the  Strongs,  at  their  three  blond 
youngsters,  three,  four  and  seven  years 
old,  at  slim,  reserved  Grace.  I  tried  to 
imagine  this  troupe  of  pioneers  churn- 
ing their  way  through  1,000  miles  of  bad 
roads,  no  roads,  and  jungle,  with  a  patch 
of  land,  just  reclaimed  from  the  tigers, 
as  their  destination. 

These  indeed  were  travelers  whom  I 
was  proud  to  welcome,  and  honored  to 
meet. 

"I'd  like  to  ask  you,  Grace,"  I  said,  "if 
you  have  any  plans  for  the  future." 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  with  a  proud  smile 
aimed  at  the  Strongs.  "Yes,  I  plan  to  be 
a  missionary  myself,  and  work  with 
other  children." 

I'm  sure  I  was  speaking  for  millions 
of  Americans  when  I  wished  Grace  God- 
speed, and  said  we'd  never  forget  her. 


SECURITY 


BONDS 


The  most  flattering,  glamorous  TWO- 
PIECE  peasant  costume  you've  ever 
seen!  Blouse  is  fine  WHITE  eyelet- 
embroidered  batiste,  trimmed  with  rib- 
bon that  matches  the  skirt.  (You'll  love 
the  low  neck  and  puff  sleeves!)  Skirt  is 
rich  rayon,  ever  so  full,  with  wide  band  of 
ribbon-trimmed  eyelet  at  the  hem.  EVERY 
woman  can  wear  this  Hollywood  style! 
Black,  Red,  Green,  Powder  Blue,  White 
Regular  sizes  10  to  18  — Junior  sizes  9  to  17 

2    WAYS    TO    ORDER 

1.  Send  payment  with  order;  we  pay  pottage 
—  you  save  pottage  and  C.O.D.  fee. 

2.  We  mail  C.O.D.,  if  you  prefer. 

aerry  co-cd  of  Hollywood 

Dept.    237.    6402  Hollywood  Blvd. 
Hollywood  28,  California 


clip  and  mail  today1.  RUSH  0RDERGRAM 


Betty  Co -Ed  of  Hollywood,  Dept, 

6402  Hollywood  Boulevard 

Hollywood  26,  California 

Please  send  "Beau-Bait"  Dress  at  $10.98 

enclose  payment  D   Mail  C.  O.  D.  □ 

Sizes:  10   12    14    16   18   [Circle  your  sizel 

Junior  sizes:    9   11    13   15    17 

"Colors:  Black  □  Red  □  Green  D  Blue  D 

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The  "New  LOOK"  Length! 


FASHIONABLE   THE   YEAR  AROUND! 
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I 


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as  magazine  secretary  for  us  in  your  com- 
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ALL  MAGAZINES  for  your  friends,  neigh- 
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'rite  today — NOW — for  free  material 
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Subscription  Agents  Division 

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205  E.  42nd  Street,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
RM-7 


keep  legs 
hair-free 

longer 


odorless 
Hair  Remover  Cream 


3  WAYS  DIFFERENT 
FROM  A  RAZOR 

1.  Keeps  legs  hair-free  longer. 

2.  Prevents  stubby  regrowih. 

3.  No  razor  cuts  or  nicks. 

I  MR  A,  snowy-white  cos- 
metic cream,  safely,  pain- 
lessly, quickly  removes  hair 
below  the  skin  line.  Keeps 
legs  and  arms  hair-free  long- 
er than  a  razor.  Smooth  on 
...rinse  off.  One  application 
does  the  trick.  In  tubes: 
•  1»  also  654.  (plustaxI 


ARTRA,  Dept.  4$,  Bloomlleld.  N.  I. 

Enclosed  find  10c  for  trial  sample  of  odorless  Imra 


Address. 


99 


A  QUEENS  SECRET  ! 


QUEEN  DRAGA  of 
Serbia  was  one  of  the 
beautiful  women  of  her 
time.  Formerly  a  lady- 
in-waiting  at  the  court 
of  King  Alexander  Dra- 
ga,  she  was  chosen  by 
him  to  share  his  throne. 
Her  beauty  and  charm 
were  so  intense  that  her 
power  grew  until  at  last 
it  led  to  her  death  by 
fearful  conspirators. 

Among  her  many 
charms,  ner  skin  was 
said  to  be  wonderfully 
clear  and  soft  as  velvet. 
Now,  after  almost  half 
a  century,  her  formula  for  complexion  care  has 
been  discovered  and  is  available  from  the  Bellus 
Company  under  the  name  of  Queen  Draga's  Com- 
plexion Cream.  This  complexion  cream  is  guaran- 
teed to  be  an  exact  reproduction  of  that  used  by 
Queen  Draga  herself. 

For  your  2  ounce  jar,  send  $1.00  in  coin,  stamps 
or  money  order  to 

THE   BELLUS  COMPANY 
1703  W.  71st  Street 
Chicago  36,  Illinois 

and  you  will  receive  postpaid  your  jar  of  QUEEN 
DRAGA'S  COMPLEXION  CREAM. 

Please  send   to 

Address 

C  ity State 

— —  2  oz.  jar(s)   of  Queen   Draga's  Complexion  Cream. 


••AND  LOOK  10 

F* YEARS  YOUNGER! 

•  Now,  at  home,  you  can  quickly  tint  telltale  streaks 
of  gray  to  natural-appearing  shades — from  lightest 
blonde  to  darkest  black.  Brownatone  and  a  small 
brush  does  it — or  your  money  back.  Approved  by 
thousands  of  women  (men,  too) — Brownatone  is 
dependable — guaranteed  harmless  when  used  as 
directed.  No  skin  test  needed.  Cannot  affect  waving 
of  hair.  Economical,  lasting— does  not  wash  out. 
Just  brush  or  comb  it  in.  One  tinting  imparts  de- 
sired shade.  Simply  retouch,  as  new  gray  appears. 
Easy  to  prove  on  a  test  lock  of  your  hair.  First  ap- 
plication must  satisfy  you  or  money  back.  75c  and 
$1.75 — all  druggists.  Retain  youthful  charm.  Get 
Brownatone  now. 


100 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 


(Continued  from  page  55) 

"The  Games  the  Thing,"  "Are  you 
Game,"  "Games  are  Peachy,"  "Come 
into  my  Parlor,"  and  "Ain't  We  Got 
Fun."  At  least  then  you  have  the  cold 
comfort  of  knowing  that  it  was  a  good 
idea.  Last  but  not  least — not  likely 
either — they  may  consider  it  a  very 
workable  idea,  the  first  of  its  kind,  suit- 
able for  NBT  at  this  time,  in  fact  they'd 
like  to  give  it  a  whirl.  A  word  of  cau- 
tion at  this  point,  do  not  do  a  broken 
field  run  to  your  local  real  estate  sales- 
man, Lincoln  Automobile  showroom, 
or  mink  coat  salon — put  a  cold  com- 
press on  your  head  and  repeat  "I've 
seen  too  many  movies"  one  hundred 
times.  Mr.  Davis  will  explain  to  you 
that  they  will  take  an  option  on  your 
show  and  hold  it  for  that  time  when 
they  find  themselves  with  a  half  hour 
to  fill.  They  will  push  your  program 
into  that  slot  and  see  how  it  goes.  When 
that  happy  day  arrives,  the  show  will 
be  put  into  the  capable  hands  of  either 
Mr.  Ed  Sobol  or  Mr.  Fred  Coe,  who  will 
supervise  all  the  details  of  actually 
getting  it  to  the  television  screen. 

It  is  obvious,  is  it  not,  that  before  you 
venture  into  television  you  must  arm 
yourself  with  infinite  patience,  an  inde- 
structible nervous  system,  and  a  sup- 
plementary form  of  income? 

*  *         * 

The  Dumont  talent  auditions  certainly 
are  the  answer  to  a  hopeful's  prayer. 
Here  is  no  brush-off,  but  a  sincere  effort 
to  help  talent  break  into  television. 
Anyone  who  is  ambitious  along  those 
lines  can  send  a  description  of  his  spe- 
cialty, experience,  and  background — 
along  with  a  couple  of  pictures  —  to 
Dumont  Auditions,  515  Madison  Avenue, 
New  York  City.  If  they  think  you  have 
any  possibility  for  video  you  will  get  an 
audition  under  real  broadcasting  condi- 
tions— lights,     cameras,     director,     and 

everything. 

*  *         * 

The  sensation  of  the  video  world  back 
in  April  was  the  over  60,000  requests 
for  tickets  which  poured  into  WNBT 
for  "Howdy  Doody"  buttons.  Bob 
Smith's  popular  puppet  is  running  for 
President,  and  if  the  kids  had  a  vote 
he'd  probably  be  the  next  occupant  of 
the  White  House.  This  is  probably  the 
largest  response  to  a  television  show 
yet.  NBT  originally  ordered  only  5,000 
of  the  buttons — which  have  a  picture  of 
"Howdy"  and  proclaim  "I'm  for  Howdy 

Doody." 

*  *        * 

If  you  notice  that  the  men  on  tele- 
vision look  very  natty  and  well  pressed 
these  days,  you  can  thank  the  Men's 
Fashion  Guild  of  America.  This  outfit 
decided  to  raise  the  sartorial  standards 
of  video  men  and  they  did  it  in  a  very 
clever  way.  They  established  a  "clothes 
bank"  which  makes  available  to  all 
actors  and  commentators  working  be- 
fore the  video  cameras  a  complete 
wardrobe  of  men's  apparel  and  acces- 
sories. Bert  Bacharach,  men's  fashion 
commentator  who  started  the  whole 
idea,  stated  when  the  bank  first  went 
into  operation:  "It  is  even  more  impor- 
tant that  the  man  who  appears  on  a 
television  screen  be  properly  dressed; 
for  unlike  other  actors,  he  is  visiting 
private  homes." 

*  *         * 

Part  of  Owen  Davis,  Jr's.  WNBT  job 
is  television  programming  and  casting. 
One  of  his  largest  casting  chores  is  the 


The  prayers  of  the  most  worthy  people  often 
fail.  Why?  The  unworthy  often  have  the  great- 
est health,  success,  riches  and  happiness.  The 
best,  smartest,  and  most  industrious  people 
often  have  only  pain,  poverty  and  sorrow.  Why? 
Thirty  years  ago,  in  Forbidden  Tibet,  behind  the 
highest  mountains  in  the  world,  a  young  English- 
man found  the  answers  to  these  questions.  His 
eyes  were  opened  by  the  strangest  mystic  he  met 
during  his  twenty-one  years  of  travels  in  the  Far 
East.  Sick  then,  he  regained  health.  Poor  then, 
he  acquired  wealth  and  world-wide  professional 
honors.  He  wants  to  tell  the  whole  world  what 
he  learned,  and  offers  to  send  a  9,000-word  trea- 
tise, FREE,  to  everyone  who  asks  promptly.  It 
is  afirst  step  to  the  Powerthat  Knowledge  gives. 
No  obligation.  Write  for  your  FREE  copy  today. 

INSTITUTE  of  MENTALPHYSICS,  Dept.304G 
213  South  Hobart  Blvd.,       Los  Angeles  4,  Calif. 


F 


eminine 
Daintiness 

QUICKLY  YOURS! 

Like  thousands  of  fasti- 
dious women,  you  too 
can  be  quickly  dainty, 
hygienically  clean, 
thanks  to  Boro-Pheno- 
Form,  the  easy,  modern 

way  to  feminine  hygiene !  Soothing,  deodorizing, 
convenient,  ready  to  use,  economical!  Get  free 
information  today!  Write  or 

Ask  Any  Druggist  Anywhere 
DR.  PIERRE  CHEMICAL  CO..  Dept.  H-12 
2020    Montrose    Ave.,    Chicago    18,    III. 

i-w  m  w  ^DR. PIERRE'S,  ■  ■  ..fc 

LADIES! 

Latest  Thing  In  Fashion 

Hand-Made  EARRINGS,  BROOCH  & 
BRACELET  to  match  that  New  Outfit.  Col- 
ors: Red,  Blue,  Pink,  Rose,  Orchid,  Yellow, 
Brown.  Other  colors  on  request.  EARRINGS 
— Sterling  Silver  backs — $2.40;  BROOCH — 
$3.60;  BRACELET— $4.80.  Prices  include  Tax 
&  Postage.  K.  H.  ROLLINS,  324  METROPOLITAN 
AVE..    ROSLINDALE.   MASS. 


OLD  LEG  TROUBLE 


t  Easy  to  use  Viscose  Home  Method.  ideals  many  old 
l  leg  sores  caused  by  leg  congestion,  varicose  veins, 

swollen  legs  and  injuries  or  no  cost  for  trial  if  it 

fails  to  show  results  in  10  days.  Describe  your 

trouble  and  get  a  FREE  BOOK. 

R-G.    VISCOSE    COMPANY 

,  140  North  Dearborn  Street  Chicago.  Illinois 


Sell 

}  Name-Imprinted 

CHRISTMAS 
!    CARDS 

50  for  1 

Also 
Assortments 


I 


Take  easy,  big  profit 
orders  from  friends,  others.  Show 
Christmas  Cards  with  name  —  5  big  lines 
selling-  at  50  for  $1.00  up.  Amazing:  designs, 
gorgeous  papers.  FREE  SAMPLES.  Also  sell 
$1.00  assortments  of  Christmas  Cards,  Gift 
Wrappings,  Everyday  Cards,  Stationery. 
Christmas  assortment  sent  on  approval.  Write 

Southern  Greeting  Card  Co.,Dept.A-22 

216  S.  Pauline  Street,  Memphis,  Term- 


uffifRSPS0RIASIS 


MAKE  THE DNE 

SPOT 

TEST  . 


SCALY     SKIN     TROUBLE) 

^DGHmOIL 


Prove  it  yourself  no  matter 
how  long-  you  have  suffered 
or   what  you   have  tried. 
Beautiful  book  on  psoria- 
sis and  Derm  oil   with 
amazing,     true     photo- 
graphic proof  of  result! 
sent  FREE.  Write  for  It. 


SEND    FOR 

GENEROUS 

TRIAL 

.SIZE  x 


Don't  mistake  ecxema 
for  the  stubborn,  ugly  i 
embarrassing  scaly  skin 
disease  Psoriasis  Apply 
non-staining  DermoiT. 
Thousands  do  for  scaly 
spots  on  body  or  scalp. 
Grateful  users,  often  after 

fears   of   suffering,    report 
he  scales   have   cone,    the 

red  |.;itrin's  i\> ..duallv  disappeared  and  ~^^HBH^^"  uke  us 
they  enjoyed  the  thrill  of  a  clear  skin  again.  Derm  oil 
Is  used  by  many  doctors  and  is  backed  by  a  positive  agree- 
ment to  five  definite  benefit  in  2  weeks  or  money  Is  re- 
funded without  question.  Send  10c  (stamps  or  coin)  for 
fenerous  trial  bottle  to  make  our  famous  "One  Spot  Test". 
est  It  yourself.  Results  may  surprise  you.  Write  today  for 
your  test  bottle.  Caution:  Use  only  as  directed.  Print  name 
plainly.  Don't  delay.  Sold  by  Liggett  and  Walgreen  Drug 
Stores  and  other  leading  Druggists.  LAKE  LABORATORIES, 
Box   547,    Northwestern  Station,  Dept.  1504,  Detroit 4,  Mich. 


The  New  look 
in  Nail  Beauty 

Try  Perma-Nail,  the  pro- 
fessional Base  Coat .  .  . 
guaranteed  to  make  any 
polish  last  perfectly  from 
manicure  to  manicure.  If 
not  at  your  favorite  cos- 
metic counter,  send  25 tf 
for  trial  package  to 
Perma-Nail,  Burbank, 
California. 


Perma-Nail 


ABSORBINE  Jr. 


-  A 

■■'igfi^r 

...relieves      % 

discomfort  rf^l 

~    A 

El 

M^_ 

Athlete's     >^ 

Selling  CHRISTMAS  CARDS 


hHS*  **|A*VUi)  *°   100%   Profit-    Show  top  quality 
►  I*   ,nK*'        V  new    21 -card    $1.00    Christmas    assort- 


„«* 


to 


ments.  Novel  Christmas  Carol,  Pano- 
rama, Gift  Wrapping  boxes.  Send  at 
once  for  FREE  SAMPLES  personal  cards 
— including  special  line  name  im 
printed  in  silver,  FREE 
STATIONERY  SAM 
PLES  and  feature 
Christmas  samples  on 
approval.  Special  Of- 
fers. Cash  bonus. 
.NEW  ENGLAND  ART  PUBLISHERS 
*NorthAbington  163,  Mass. 


ine    name    im- 

tEE     ^^M^ 


-  Lovely  New  Sty  lecraf  t  Rings - 

Kind  you  have  always  wanted.  I  .  _ 

No.  97  is  an  attractive  pattern  in  solid  silver  set  with  brilliant 
imitation  diamond — No.  104  is  new  sterling  model  set  with 
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Theater  Guild  dramatic  presentation. 
He  tells  this  funny  story  about  the  time 
just  recently  when  he  was  lining  up 
Gertrude  Lawrence  for  a  Guild  video 
appearance.  Davis  went  over  to  the 
Theater  Guild  office  to  meet  Miss 
Lawrence  and  talk  about  her  part  in 
"The  Great  Catherine."  The  Guild 
occupies  an  old  brownstone  house  in 
West  53rd  Street,  New  York  City.  While 
Davis  waited  inside,  someone  acciden- 
tally locked  the  outer  door.  Miss 
Lawrence  drove  up  in  a  taxi  and 
knocked  at  the  door  for  a  long  while, 
but  could  not  be  heard.  She  gave  up 
and  returned  to  the  street  to  catch  an- 
other cab.  Several  children  in  the 
neighborhood  accustomed  to  seeing  de- 
jected actors  and  actresses  leaving  the 
Guild  after  auditions,  hooted  at  her: 
"Yea-yea-yea.  You  didn't  get  the 'job, 
did  you?" 

Paramount  Pictures'  television  sta- 
tion, KTLA,  is  doing  a  video  version  of 
the  rogues'  gallery.  In  cooperation  with 
the  Los  Angeles  police,  they  flash  pic- 
tures of  criminals  on  the  television 
screen  for  five  minutes  every  evening. 
They  do  the  same  with  pictures  of  miss- 
ing persons. 

*         *         * 

Television  is  making  itself  felt  in 
politics  already.  The  big  Republican 
and  Democratic  elections  are  being  held 
in  Philadelphia  primarily  because  it  is 
a  television  center  and  an  excellent 
place  from  which  to  feed  the  East  Coast. 
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the  first  "pool"  operation  in  video  his- 
tory. The  big  networks  take  turns 
supervising  the  shooting  on  the  con- 
vention floor  and  the  results  are  fed  to 
all  the  stations.  Each  individual  station 
will  monitor  and  cut  programs  as  it  sees 
fit.  All  the  networks  will  send  special 
correspondents  to  Philadelphia  to  get 
exclusive  video  interview  and  human 
interest  features.  NBC  took  over  a 
dormitory  of  the  University  of  Penn- 
sylvania to  house  its  technical  crews. 
Special  films  will  be  rushed  daily  by 
plane  to  all  areas  that  cannot  pick  up 
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been  assigned  to  regional  "grass  roots" 
coverage  of  the  conclaves.  I  asked  what 
would  be  done  about  the  conflict,  if  any, 
between  the  convention  and  the  Louis- 
Walcott  fight  on  June  23rd.  Mr.  Smith 
said  they  expected  that  the  convention 
sessions  would  be  in  recess  by  the  time 
the  fight  goes  over  the  air — 10:00  P.M. 

*  *        * 

ABC,  which  will  resume  its  New 
York  tele  operations  soon,  has  in  the 
meantime  enlarged  its  WENR-TV  staff 
in  Chicago  and  closed  a  deal  to  ex- 
change film  programs  with  Radiodiffu- 
sion  Francaise.  In  this  way  the  best 
television  work  done  in  France  will  be 
made  available  to  Chicago  audiences. 
Deal  calls  for  the  exchange  of  video 
films  covering  news,  entertainment, 
special  events,  etc. 

Back  in  the  May  issue  we  told  about 
how  difficult  it  was  to  do  a  remote  tele 
show  because  of  the  bushels  of  red 
tape  involved.  We  pointed  out  that 
John  Reed  King's  Missus  Goes  A-Shop- 
ping  had  to  obtain  about  seven  different 
permits  each  week  to  do  the  program 
from  supermarkets.  Now  the  New 
York  City  government  is  working 
closely  with  broadcasters  to  make  it 
simple  to  carry  out  any  and  all  video 
operations. 

*  *         * 

Television  is  apparently  going  to 
open  up  a  whole  new  field  for  mashers. 
Joan  Kerwin,  of  Dumont's  Swing  into 
Sports,  received  a  letter  recently  from 
an  anonymous  man,  who  told  her  how 
mad  he  was  about  her  from  watching 
her  on  her  video  show.  He  instructed 
her  to  pass  her  hand  across  her  hair  in 
a  special  way  when  she  first  appeared 
on  "Sports"  the  following  week — that 
would  be  his  signal  to  write  again  and 
set  up  a  time  and  place  to  meet.  The 
Dumont  boys  were  kiddingly  urging 
Joan  to  do  it — just  to  see  what  would 
develop,  but  Miss  K.  very  definitely 
kept  her  hands  out  of  her  hair — and 
hopes  to  keep  the  ardent  letter  writer 
out  of  it  too. 

*  *         * 

It  has  been  found  that  television  re- 
ceivers put  into  hotel  rooms  actually 
make  money  for  the  hotel.  This  is  why: 
visitors  stay  in  their  rooms  instead  of 
going  out  for  fun;  have  friends  in,  and 
the  room  service  charges  zoom  from  a 
$35  average  per  room  per  month  to 
$175 — people  who  watch  television 
order  cigars,  liquor,  beer,  and  food.  The 
Roosevelt,  Taft,  and  New  Yorker  hotels 
are  all-out  for  video! 

*  *         * 

WGN-TV  in  Chicago  is  planning  an 
extremely  interesting  show  in  coopera- 
tion with  the  American  Medical  So- 
ciety— which  meets  at  Northwestern 
University  during  the  week  of  June 
21st  through  25th.  WGN-TV  will  tele- 
vise an  operation — step-by-step. 

*  *         * 

There  have  been  a  lot  of  jokes  re- 
cently about  how  embarrassing  it  is  to 
be  televised  at  a  dinner,  parade,  or 
sporting  event  when  you  are  not  aware 
that  you  are  making  a  video  debut.  To 
avoid  embarrassments,  libel  suits,  and 
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are  GIVEN  with  FULL  INFORMA- 
TION on  HOW  TO  RECEIVE  THEM. 
Enclose  stamp  or  coin  for  mailing 
GLOWING  CROSS. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  HOUSE,  Dept.  MAC, 
7002  N.   Clark  St.  Chicago  26.    III. 


Has  a  New  Love 

Brunette  Suzy  Mulli- 
gan, glamorous  Con- 
over  model  famous  for 
her  petal -fresh  com- 
plexion, has  fallen  in 
love  with  the  beauty- 
magic  of  Edna  Wallace 
Hopper  White  Clay 
Pack.  You,  too,  will 
love  the  way  your  tired 
face  responds  to  the 
quick  pick-up  of  this 
white  cream  clay.  And 
it's  so  easy  to  use. 
Simply  smooth  on— let 
dry  about  8  minutes  — rinse  off,  and  thrill  to 
your  new  look  of  radiance  — of  fresh,  clear 
glowing  loveliness  that  men  adore.  Get 
Hopper  White  Clay  Pack  today.  Make  it  your 
twice-weekly  "beauty  special."  And  for  every- 
day care,  use  Edna  Wallace  Hopper  Homo- 
genized Facial  Cream.  At  cosmetic  counters. 


Green  Stuff 

{Continued  from  page  65) 

heat.  Stir  until  gelatine  is  dissolved. 
Turn  into  an  8-inch  ring  mold.  Chill 
in  refrigerator  until  firm.  Unmold  on 
platter.  Garnish  with  watercress  and 
fill  center  with  chilled  shrimp  salad. 
Makes  6  servings. 

CHEESE  SALAD  MAIN  DISH 

1  tablespoon  plain  gelatine 
V/z  teaspoons  salt 

Dash  of  cayenne  pepper 
1%  cups  milk 
V/z  cups  cottage  cheese 

2  tablespoons  chopped  green  pepper 
2  tablespoons  chopped  pimiento 

4  tablespoons  chopped  chives  or  onion 

Combine  gelatine,  salt,  cayenne  pepper 
and  milk  in  a  saucepan.  Bring  slowly 
to  boiling  over  low  heat.  (Do  not  boil.) 
Remove  from  heat  and  chill.  When 
slightly  thickened,  fold  in  remaining 
ingredients.  Turn  into  an  8  x  5  x  3- 
inch  loaf  pan,  or  8  individual  molds 
(custard  cups  may  be  used).  Chill  until 
firm.  Unmold  and  serve  on  crisp  let- 
tuce or  watercress.  Makes  6  to  8  serv- 
ings. 

BANANA  CBEAM 

1  cup  sugar 

1  cup  orange  juice 
Juice  of  1  lemon 

2  cups  water 
6  bananas 

1  cup  heavy  cream 

Combine  sugar,  orange  juice,  lemon 
juice  and  water.  Bring  to  boiling  and 
stir  until  sugar  is  dissolved.  Force 
bananas  through  a  strainer;  add  to 
juice  mixture.  Cool.  Pour  into  ice 
cube  tray  and  freeze  until  mushy. 
Whip  cream  until  it  holds  its  shape 
and  fold  into  partially  frozen  juice 
mixture.  Stir  twice  during  freezing. 
Makes  10  portions. 

HONEY  REFRIGERATOR  COOKIES 

2Yz  cups  sifted  all-purpose  flour 

1  teaspoon  baking  powder 
Yi  teaspoon  baking  soda 
Yz  teaspoon  salt 
Yz  cup  shortening 
Yz  cup  honey 
Yz  cup  sugar 

1  egg,  slightly  beaten 
Y2,  cup  chopped  nuts 

Sift  together  flour,  baking  powder, 
baking  soda  and  salt.  Cream  shorten- 
ing until  soft  and  add  honey.  Gradually 
beat  in  sugar.  Add  egg  and  beat  until 
light  and  smooth.  Add  nuts  and  mix 
well.  Add  sifted  dry  ingredients  and 
blend  until  smooth.  Turn  out  onto 
waxed  paper  and  roll  into  a  long  cyl- 
inder. Roll  up  tight  in  the  waxed  paper 
and  chill  in  refrigerator  overnight  or 
until  firm.  Slice  thin,  place  on  greased 
shallow  pan  and  bake  in  a  hot  oven 
(400°F)  about  10  minutes.  Makes  4 
dozen. 

AMBROSIA  ICE  BOX  CAKE 

3  oranges 
Yz  cup  shredded  coconut,  firmly  packed 

1  cup  heavy  cream,  whipped 

2  tablespoons  confectioner's  sugar 
Sponge  cake 

Cut  oranges  into  sections  removing  all 
the  white  membrane.  Drain  well  and 
combine  with  coconut.  Sweeten  the 
whipped  cream  with  sugar  and  fold 
into  orange  mixture.  Line  bottom  of 
ice  cube  tray  with  slices  of  sponge 
cake.  Pour  orange  mixture  on  top  of 
cake.  Chill  until  firm.  Makes  6 
servings. 


Relieve 
Constipation 
Pleasantly! 

MOTHER!  Your  child  will 
enjoy  this  tasty  laxative! 

Millions  of  mothers  have 
learned  from  experience  that  chil- 
dren take  Ex-Lax  willingly.  They 
love  its  delicious  chocolate  taste. 
Ex-Lax  is  hot  only  pleasant- 
tasting  but  easy-acting. 

And  you,  Mother,  can  trust 
Ex-Lax  to  give  effective  relief  . . . 
in  a  nice,  gentle  way.  Not  too 
strong,  not  too  weak,  Ex-Lax  is 
the  "Happy  Medium"  Laxative. 

Ex-Lax  is  America's  No.  1  lax- 
ative— the  favorite  of  young  and 
old.  It's  the  dependable  laxative 
that  many  doctors  use  in  their 
practice.  Still  only  10*  a  box. 
Economy  size,  25<. 

When  Nature  "forgets".. .remember 

EX-LAX 

THE    CHOCOLATED    LAXATIVE 


EARN  EXTRA  MONEY!  Full,  Spare  Time! 

YOU  can  make  many  EXTRA  DOLLARS  with  our  new. 
sell-on-sight  Plastic  Line!    Tablecloths.  Aprons;  also  many 
other  beautiful,  fast-selling  items,  novelties.  Postal  brings 
free  details.  No  obligation.   Write  today.   Hurry! 
ROYALTY  SALES  CO..  Box  748,  Passaic  20,  New  Jersey 


"BC"  RELIEVES 
HEADACHES  FAST! 

Your  choice — 
tablet  or  powder 

The  same  wonderful  combination  of 
fast-acting  ingredients  in  both.  Quickly 
soothe  headaches,  neuralgic  pains, 
minor  muscular  aches.  Two  tablets  equal 
one  powder.  On  sale  everywhere.  Use 
only  as  directed.  Keep  a  package  handy! 


103 


tlllHM 


*Wvr' 


to  ni;ik«fc 


Three  new  frocks  to  make  your  heart  dance ! 
A  whole,  wonderful  wardrobe  for  what 
you  usually  spend  for  just  one  dress. 
No  wonder  smart  career  gals  are  rushing 
to  get  all  three  of  these  all-occasion, 
all-beautiful  dresses! 


merrv! 


^"«^^Pr 


*    %*W 


803 

EMBROIDERED  BEAUTY: 

Frosty  white  embroidery 
trims  the  keyhole  neckline 
and  flap  pockets.  With 
center -full  shirred  skirt, 
and  cuffed  cap  sleeves,  it 
comes  in  crisp  rayon  faille, 
in  powder  blue,  aqua, 
pink,  gray,  or  black  with 
white  embroidery.  Sizes: 
9-11-13-15-17;  10-12-14- 
16-18-20. 


,  802 

STRIPED  HONEY: 

The  boldly  striped  skirt  has  un- 
pressed  pleats  all  around.  The 
striped  yoke  gently  folds  over 
into  a  flattering  collar.  In  rayon 
SHANDUNE,  a  new  novelty  shan- 
tung. Melonjuggage,  navy,  powder- 
blue,  aqua  with  white.  Sizes:  9- 
1113-15-17;  10-12-14-16-18-20. 


104 


804 
LACE-LOVELY: 

The  lace-edged  ajron  drape  is  fash- 
ion's newest  rage.  The  sweetheart 
neckline  and  cape  sleeves  will  make 
you  concretely  captivating.  In 
butcher-like  linen.  Black  or  navy 
with  white  Venetian  lace.  Sizes :  9- 
11-13-15-17;  10-12-14-16-18-20. 
Also  in  sizes  38-40-42-44  at  $6,98. 


SEND  NO  MONEY 
SENT  ON  APPROVAL 


&ieiteew  £fiaA/ii<m  SPAofib  oept  mf  75 

275  Seventh  Avenue,  New  York  I,  N.Y. 

Send  these  lovely  dresses  on  approvol.  I'll  pay  postman  the  total  amount 
indicated,  plus  postage  and  C.O.D.  charges.  II  not  delighted,  I  may  return  any 
or  all  dresses  lor  refund  within  ten  days.  In  New  York  City  add  2%  Sales  Tax. 


Name  of  Dress 

Size 

1st  Color  Choice 

2nd  Color  Choice 

Price 

Embroidered  Beauty  603 

7.98 

Striped  Honey  802 

6.98 

Lace-Lovely  604 

5.98 

ALLOW    TWO    WEEKS 

OR   LE 

SS   FOR   DELIVEE 

'*              Total 

PLEASE  PRINT 

NAME 


ADDRESS. 


_Z0NE_ 


-STATE- 


NOTE  :  If  you  send  payment  with  order  we  pay  all  postage  charges.  D 


WRITE  FOR  FREE  CATALOG  J 


Helen 
Neushaefer 


Miss  and  Mrs  America  ^ 

have  Switched  to 

NailPolish 


.  .  .  the  only  nail  polish  at  any  price 

containing  the  miracle,  chip-proofing 

ingredient  .  .  .  PLASTEEN 

Thank  you,  Miss  and  Mrs.  America,  for  making 
Helen  Neushaefer  nail  polish  one  of  the  biggest 
selling  in  all  cosmetic  history.  And  .  .  .  in  less  than  two 
short  years. 

Two  years  ago,  Helen  Neushaefer  nail  polish  was 
unheard  of  .  .  .  had  never  been  offered  for  sale.  Today, 
in  store  after  store,  town  after  town,  city  after  city, 
from  coast-to-coast,  it  is  the  favorite  nail-do  of  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  women. 

Unsolicited  letters,  which  reach  my  desk  every  day, 
tell  me  why  they  switched  to  Helen  Neushaefer  nail 
polish.  The  big  reason  is  PLASTEEN  .  .  .  the  miracle 
ingredient  developed  by  my  cosmetic  chemists  to  help 
prevent  chipping  and  peeling.  No  other  nail  polish  at 
any  price,  their  letters  say,  lasts  as  long  or  looks  as 
lovely  as  my  polish  with  PLASTEEN. 

But  PLASTEEN  does  far  more  than  help  prevent 
chipping.  It  makes  Helen  Neushaefer  nail  polish  go  on 


quicker,  easier,  more  evenly,  without  annoying  bubbles 
.  .  .  gives  it  starlike  brilliance  .  .  .  makes  your  nails  look 
like  ovals  of  rare  porcelain. 

NEU  LOOK 

Women  constantly  write  me  how  they  love  the  many 
fashionable,  up-to-the-minute  colors  .  .  .  particularly  my 
newest  shade  .  .  .  "Neu  Look"  ...  a  gorgeous,  stylish 
pink  ...  as  beautiful  as  a  morning  sunrise. 

Miss  and  Mrs.  America  also  are  switching  to  my  new 
lipstick  with  LASTEEN  which  I  created,  by  popular 
demand,  to  harmonize  with  the  lingering  loveliness  of 
my  nail  polish.  Helen  Neushaefer  lip- 
stick, too,  comes  in  all  of  the  day's  most 
popular  shades  including  the  sensational 
summer  shade  .  .  .  "Neu  Look." 

If  you  would  like  your  nails  to  look 
lovelier  longer  ...  if  you  would  like  to 
be  spared  the  aggravation  of  frequent 
chipping  and  patching  .  .  .  won't  you 
try  Helen  Neushaefer  nail  polish  with 
PLASTEEN.  You'll  find  it  in  twelve 
beautiful  colors  at  your  nearest  chain  or 
drug  store  cosmetic  counter. 

At  its  unbelievably  low  price  .  .  .  only 
ten  cents  .  .  .  you'll  be  able  to  afford  a 
whole  wardrobe  of  colors. 


390  £r 

with  LASTEEN 

in   a   golden-metal   swivel   case- 
with  the  "Color  Teller  Tip" 


Distributed  by  A.  Sartorius  &  Co.,  Inc.,  80  Fifth  Ave.,  New  York  11.  N.Y. 


Fabric   Designer 


agrees: 


In 


designing  fabrics  and  in  choosing  a  cigarette,  EXPERIENCE   IS   THE    BEST  TEACHER!' 


They  walk!  At  the  head 
of  the  fashion  parade. 

They  talk!  Of  elegance 
and  charm. 

Stephanie  Cartwright's 
"Conversational  Prints," 

An  overnight  hit  — 
but  to  their  creator 
they  were  the  "happy 
result  of  years  of 
experience."  Miss 
(lartwright  feels  the 
same  way  about  her 
choice  of  a  cigarette. 

"Over  the  years  l*ve 
tried  m.-iuy  brands 
—  Camels  are  the 
' choice  of  experi- 
ence' with  me,"  says 
Miss  larlwrittlil. 


C^^cm  74ttio  &w>  az/tni/' 


T  for  Taste... T  for  Throat 


That's  your  proving  ground 
for  any  cigarette.  Sec  "if 
Camels  don't  suit  your 
'T-Zon,"  to  a  "T." 


■' 


'/Conversational  prints"?  Yes,  they  tell  their  own  story 
\_j  of  fabulous  places  and  people. 

And  the  fact  that  more  people  are  smoking  Camels 
than  ever  before  tells  its  own  story  too. 

It's  the  story  of  millions  of  smokers  who  have  tried  and 
compared  different  brands  .  .  .  and  found  that  Camels 
suit  their  "T-Zones"  to  a  "T." 

"i  es,  "T-Zone" — for  that's  the  all-important  area  of 
Taste  and  Throat  .  .  .  your  real  proving  ground 
for  any  cigarette.  Try  Camels.  Let  your  taste  and  your 
throat  tell  you  why  Camels  are  the  "choice  of  experience." 


According  to  a  Nationwide  survey: 

More  doctors  smoke 

CAMELS  THAN  ANY  OTHER 
CIGARETTE 


When  113,597  doctors 
were  asked  by  three  in- 
dependent research  or- 
ganizations  to  name  the 
cigarette  they  smoked, 
more  doct  ors  nam  ed 
Camel  than  any  other 
brand E 


<W TjE££WSZOJV 


AUGUST  - 25t 


\.     K  | 


MRS.   JAMES   E.  AURELL 
the  former  Jolyne  Holton  of  Port  Arthur,  Texas 
bridal  portrait  painted  by 


Your  skin  grows  lovelier 

with  your  First  Cake  of  Camay! 


THE  AUREUS-THEIR  STORY 


The  Aurells  came  back  to  the 
bride's  home  in  Texas  to  be 
wed.  Jolyne's  skin  is  smooth 
and  fresh.  She  says— "My 
first  cake  of  Camay  brought 
my  skin  a  lovelier  look!" 


Lovely  skin— lovely  girl!  And  your  skin  can  be  softer,  smoother 
with  your  first  cake  of  Camay— if  you'll  do  this!  Give  up  care- 
less cleansing!  Go  on  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet.  Doctors 
tested  Camay's  beauty  promise  on  scores  of  women.  And 
nearly  every  one  of  those  women  gained  a  lovelier  skin  with 
one  cake  of  Camay.  The  wrapper  tells  you  how  to  be  lovelier! 


THE   SOAP 

OF   BEAUTIFUL 

WOMEN 


Sunny  skies  smiled  on  the  Aurells'  honeymoon  in 
Acapulco,  Mexico.  And  the  forecast  for  Jolyne's 
complexion  is  "fair  and  clearer,"  too.  She'll  stay 
on  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet! 


# 


Don't  let  that  bath-freshness  fade- 
stay  sweet  to  be  near! 

A  star-spangled  evening  begins  in  your  bath, 
it's  true.  You  start  off  sweet  and  dainty.  But 
what  will  you  do  to  keep  underarm  odor  from 
turning  your  dreams  to  dust? 

After  your  bath  washes  away  past  perspiration, 
remember— Mum's  the  word  for  safer,  surer 
protection  against  risk  of  future  underarm  odor. 


0 


Product  of  Bristol-Myers 

Safer  for  charm  — Mum  checks  perspiration  odor, 
protects  your  daintiness  all  day  or  all  evening. 

Safer  for  skin— Because  Mum  contains  no  harsh  or 
irritating  ingredients.  Snow-white  Mum  is  gentle  — 
harmless  to  skin. 

Safer  for  clothes— No  damaging  ingredients  in  Mum 
to  rot  or  discolor  fine  fabrics.  Economical  Mum  doesn't 
dry  out  in  the  jar.  Quick,  easy  to  use,  even  after  you're 
dressed. 


TO  COMBAT  BAD  BREATH,  I  RECOMMEND 
COLSATE  DENTAL  CREAM!  FOR  SCIENTIFIC 
,     TESTS  PROVE  THAT  IN  7  OUT  OF  10  CASES, 
\    COLGATE'S  INSTANTLY  STOPS  BAD  BREATH 
E*}*>-?    THAT  ORIGINATES  IN  THE  MOUTH.1     -. 
\~^'  ^ s^^y^-J 

"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
—helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 


AUGUST.  1948 


VOL.  30,  NO. 


*w T££Evrsiay 


KEYSTONE  EDITION 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Always  vse 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
after  you  eat  and  before 
every  dote 


:  . 


Miracle  in   Cuba by   Pearl  D.  Carrington    23 

We  Won   Our  Future by  Mrs.  Ward  George    24 

26 
28 
30 
34 


My  Wife  Jane by  Goodman  Ace  as  told  to  Gladys  Hall 

"The  Family  That  Prays  Together" by  Robbin  Coons 

"I'll  Make  the  San  Fernando  Valley  My  Home" by  Elaine  St.  Johns 

Joyce  Jordan.   M.   D. — In    Living   Portraits 

They  All  Want  to  Lead  the  Band by  David  O.  Alber  40 

Bride  and   Groom  in  a  Double  Partnership by  John   Nelson  42 

Here's    Peter   Grant — In    color 50 

This  is  Your  FBI— A  Picture  Story 52 

Down    on    Donald's    Farm — In    Pictures 56 

mmmmm 

Radio    Mirror    Quiz by    Todd    Russell  3 

Facing  the  Music by  Duke  Ellington  10 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  12 

Collector's   Corner by  Elliot  Lawrence  13 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Cathy    MacGregor 19 

Joan  Tompkins 21 

Grand  Ole  Opry — In  Color 54 

Inside  Radio 64 

It's  Here 67 

Tom   Williams 81 

Information  Booth 100 


Relaxing  Is  a  Science by  Terry  Burton  6 

Summer  Specialties by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  8 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  38 

Tall  and  Handsome by  Kate  Smith  58 

Life    Can    Be    Beautiful 68 


WHN:     "Hi-Ya.   Sport   Fans!" 4 

KDKA:  Al  Marsico,  Tune  Collector 16 

WFIL:     Skipper    Dawes i« 

WEBR:  Ralph    Hubbell '.'.'?.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. '. '.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. '..'  20 


iqdbseci 

Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 45 

Women  of  Fashion '..'.'.'...  47 

Happy  Time '. .......... '. .'. '. ......  \ ...'.". '"  48 


RADIO  MIRROR  R 


"I  Give  My  Troth"— a  When  a  Girl  Marries  Novelette 

by  Helen  Christy  Harris    60 

ON  THE  COVER:  The  Davis  family,  of  When  a  Girl  Marries;  color  portraits 

by  Geoffrey  Morris. 


Editorial  Director 
FRED  R.  SAMMIS 

Managing  Editor, 
EVELYN  I,.  FIORE 


Editor 
DORIS    IlIcFERRAN 

Associate  Editor 
MARJORIE  WALLACE 


Art  Director 
JACK  ZASORIN 


Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES  MALT 


Television 
JOAN    MURPHY    LLOYD 


Research 
TERC  GOTO 


Hollywood  Office:  Editor,     ANN    DAGGETT         Managing  Editor       McCULLAH    ST.   JOHNS 
Mnfj  Photographers.      HYMIE  FINK,  STERLING  SMITH :      Assistant       BETTY   JO    RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS.  INC.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
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Offlce:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills.  California.  O.  J.  Elder.  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice  President; 
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every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  those  found  unavailable  If  accompanied  bv  sufficient  llrst  class  postage  and 
explicit  name  and  address.  Contributors  are  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions; 
otherwise  they  are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  oi 
In    pari    without    permission. 

(Member  of   Macfadden    Women's   Group) 

Copyright,   1948,  by  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.  All  rights  reserved  under  International  Copyright  Convention.   All 

rights  reserved   under  Pan-American   Copyright  Convention.     Todos  derechos  reservados   segun   La   Coovenclon    Pan- 

ftmerlrnnn  rte  Prnnlednd  l.itcrarla  y  Artlstlca.    Title  trademark  registered  In  V.  S.  Patent  Office. 

Printed    In    U.    S.    A      l»v    *rt    Color    rvlnllnc    Co..    Duncllen.    N.    J. 


RADIO  MIRROR  QUIZ 

i    ■*szrr  g 

This    month's    guest 

quizmaster  is 

Todd  Russell,  m.c. 

of  CBS's 

Strike  It  Rich 

(Sundays  9:30  P.M. 

EDT) 

1  Oldest  member  of 
"Allen's  Alley."  Who 
is  she? 


2.  Red  Skelton  was  once  a  (a)  truck  driver, 
(b)    dentist,    (c)   circus  clown. 


3.  Started  out  as  a  danc- 
er, but  broke  her  leg. 
Now  well-known  singer. 
Who  is  she? 


4.  Jimmy  Durante  started  in  show  business 
as  part  of  a  three  man  act.  Name  the  other 
two  men. 


5.  What  famous  news 
commentator  once 
lived  with  Lawrence 
of   Arabia? 


6.  What  orchestra  leader  does  not  play  any 
instrument,  and  does  not  sing? 

MY  FAVORITE  QUIZ  QUESTIONS 

(a)  How  fast  can  a  snail  travel? 

(b)  Are  there  more  dogs  than  radios  in  the 
United  States? 


ANSWERS: 

OipDJ    Aj9AG    <H   SbopSSJL||    3JD    3J3ljj_     (q) 

•JDSA    D   3|J(JU    3UQ     to) 

•jasA)|  Ad)(   -9 

•sduioi)J^  ||9mo-|   -g 

'uospop  »!pp3  puD  uojAdjq  no-]  -^ 

•Adq  suoq  •£ 

•uMop  snajjQ    (a)   -j 

•X9||v 

s.uaIIV  }°  „uinD<j$snN  'sj^m   "snoij   DAjauipj  *| 


union  station  and  skyline  -  Twelve  large  railroad 
Southwest6  m  and  °Ut  °f  tHiS  "Gateway  t0  the  G™<* 


■Ww?*-tfm> 


Wmim 


\ 


f:   ! 


Breezy,  bustling,  big-town 
-that's  KANSAS  CITY 

K.  C.  is  a  hospitable  home-town  —  a  mighty  pleasant 
place  to  live.  Unusually  beautiful  residential  areas,  parks, 
broad  boulevards  abound.  Educational  and  cultural  op- 
portunities  have  been  well  planned.  Civic  pride  runs  high. 

Almost  smack  in  the  middle  of  the  U.  S.— K.  C.  is  the 
flourishing  center  of  a  6- state  trading  area,  extending 
as  far  west  as  Colorado  and  clear  down  into  Texas.  Cows, 
horses,  hogs,  mules,  grain,  oil,  lumber  flow  in  and  out. 

With  the  old  "Show-me"  spirit  still  alive,  Kansas 
Citians  have  long  enjoyed  the  Candy  Coated  Gum — 

Beech-Nut  Beechies 

Peppermint,  Spearmint 

and  Pepsin- 

They're 

good! 


Beech-Nut  Gum 
in  stick  form  — 
the  outstand- 
ing favorite 
everywhere. 


I  II 


FAMOUS  K.  C.  STOCKYARDS- 

350'acre,brick'paved"cou)'hotel." 


NELSON  GALLERY  OF  ART  - 

one  of  the  most  imposing  and 
beautiful  in  America. 


sm 


\i#" 


,L 


MUNICIPAL  AUDITORIUM- 

a  city  block  square,  it  houses 
a  huge  Arena,  Music  Hall, 
Theatre,  and  Exhibition  Hall. 


Bert  Lee,  sportscaster,  is  also  WHN's 
Sales  Director,  Bertram  Lebhar,  Jr. 


Ward    Wilson,    Bert    Lee    and    Marty    Glickman, 
heard  on  WHN's  Warm  Up  Time  and  Sports.  Extra. 


Inside  story  on  Today's  Baseball.  Here  Buddy 
Greenspan  spins  crowd  noise  records  and  Bert 
produces  the  sound  of  a  hit  as  Marty  broadcasts. 


TO  metropolitan  listeners,  Bert  Lee  is  the  man  who 
brings  them  the  fastest  game  of  baseball  in  radio,  a 
15-minute,  play-by-play  account  of  one  of  the  two 
most  exciting  games  of  the  day  broadcast  on  WHN's 
Today's  Baseball.  Marty  Glickman,  WHN  sports  director 
does  the  other  game.  Both  are  heard  daily  from  7:00  to 
7:30  P.M.,   EDT. 

Lee  creates  the  game  from  notes  taken  from  the 
news  ticker  tape,  adds  the  crowd  noises  with  phono- 
graph records  and  a  realistic  crack  of  the  bat  meeting 
a  fast  ball  with  the  aid  of  a  toy  night  club  hammer  and 
a  wooden  block.  The  result  is  an  early  evening  baseball 
game  for  millions  of  workers  who  formerly  got  their 
only  baseball  thrills  from  the  box  scores. 

Along  with  Today's  Baseball,  Bert  Lee  broadcasts 
numerous  other  sports  programs  for  WHN,  which  puts 
him  in  a  class  with  the  nation's  top  sportscasters.  With 
Ward  Wilson,  one  of  the  country's  outstanding  radio 
performers  and  sports  experts,  and  the  aforementioned 
Glickman,  Bert  also  does  Warm-Up  Time,  inside  dope 
from  the  dugouts,  preceding  each  Dodger  game,  and 
Sports  Extra,  immediately  following  the  Dodger  broad- 
casts, featuring  scores  and  highlights  from  around  the 
leagues. 

Not  satisfied  with  being  a  leading  radio  personality, 
Lee  as  Bertram  Lebhar,  Jr.,  is  also  sales  director  for 
WHN,  whose  lead  in  the  radio  sports  world  is  due  in 
a  large  measure  to  the  combination  of  Lee-Lebhar. 

Sportscaster-Sales  Director  Lebhar  would  seem  to 
have  little  time  to  play  the  role  of  family  man.  His  New 
Rochelle,  N.  Y„,  household  includes  Evelyn  Lebhar, 
Bert's  wife,  and  five  robust,  handsome  children,  Bert 
III,  18  years  old  and  an  upper  freshman  at  Cornell 
University;  Godfrey  M.  II,  14  years  old  and  a  sophomore 
at  New  Rochelle  High  School;  11 -year-old  Barbara,  who 
is  attending  Roosevelt  Public  School;  Suzanne,  age  9, 
also  at  Roosevelt  Public  School,  and  the  youngest, 
Vivienne,  8  years  old. 

The  gathering  of  the  Lebhar  clan  at  the  dinner  table 
means  that  the  crowded  sports  activities  of  the  day  will 
be  discussed  in  knowledgeable  fashion  by  all  members 
of  the  household,  from  tot  to  teen,  with  dad  and  mom 
presiding.  The  Lebhar  children  fail  to  understand  why 
other  youngsters  in  the  neighborhood  are  not  con- 
versant with  current  football  strategy,  hot  stove  league 
palaver   and   wrestling   techniques. 

The  National  Father's  Day  Committee,  aware  of  Bert's 
accomplishments  in  both  private  and  business  life, 
awarded  him  a  citation  two  years  ago  for  his  outstanding 
contribution  to  radio  and  his  meritorious  record  as  a 
father.  The  citation,  presented  to  him  on  Father's  Day, 
1946,  read:  "To  Bert  Lee,  for  his  supremacy  as  sports 
commentator,  bridge  expert  and  exemplary  father  and 
family  man." 

Bert  received  his  college  training  at  Cornell  University 
and  New  York  Law  School.  He  changed  his  mind  about 
being  a  lawyer  and  entered  the  radio  field  where  he 
became  a  salesman  with  a  record  just  short  of  fabulous. 


rfbtf  ?&  f&t  tfe  #a?g?0i(?tf 'y<m>  faafat, 


Here  is  Ruth,  rarin'  to  get  up  to  the  Cape  for 
that  gorgeous  two  weeks  she's  dreamed  about 
all  year.  The  wonderful  boys  she'll  meet  .  .  . 
the  gay  times  she'll  have  .  .  .  the  sea,  the  sun, 
and  the  moonlight. 

But  it  isn't  going  to  be  that  way ! 

Of  course  she'll  meet  attractive  men  .  .  .  but 
they'll  have  little  time  for  her.  Of  course  she'll 
sun  herself  and  decorate  the  beach  .  .  .  but 
most  of  the  time  it  will  be  alone.  And  she  won't 
know  why!* 

Like  many  another  girl,  Ruth,  without  realiz- 
ing it,  is  guilty  of  bad  breath  *  (halitosis)  now 
and  then.  And  when  that  happens  .  .  .  it's  often 
bye-bye  friendships  .  .  .  bye-bye  romance! 

When  you're  out  to  make  the  most  of  your- 
self isn't  it  just  common  sense  to  be  extra  care- 
ful about  offending  others?  It's  so  easy  when 
you  have  a  bottle  of  Listerine  Antiseptic  in 
your  vacation  kit.  Simply  rinse  the  mouth  with 
Listerine  Antiseptic,  night  and  morning,  and 
before  any  date.  Almost  at  once  it  leaves  the 
breath  fresher,  sweeter,  less  likely  to  offend. 
No  wonder  a  lot  of  smart  people  make  it  part 
of  their  "passport  to  popularity." 

Incidentally,  Listerine  Antiseptic  is  a  pretty 
wonderful  first  aid,  too,  when  it  comes  to 
cases  of  minor  skin  infection,  and  insect  bites 
and  stings. 

If  you're  vacation-bound  don't  forget  to  tuck 
a  bottle  of  Listerine  Antiseptic  in  your  bag. 
A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend  indeed. 

While  some  cases  of  halitosis  are  of  systemic 
origin,  most  cases,  say  some  authorities,  are  due 
to  the  bacterial  fermentation  of  tiny  food  parti- 
cles clinging  to  mouth  sur- 
faces. Listerine  Antiseptic 
quickly  halts  such  fermen- 
tation, then  overcomes  the 
odors  fermentation  causes. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Co. 

St.  Louis,  Mo. 


P.  S.  IT'S  NEW!  Have  you  tried 

Listerine  TOOTH  PASTE,  the  MINTY 

3-way  prescription  for  your  teeth? 


IS  A 


SCIENCE 


I'LL  wager  that  a  lot  of  you,  like  me,  are  so  plain  tuckered  out  at 
the  end  of  a  day's  work  that  you  sometimes  can't  enjoy  having  fun. 
(More  times  than  you  care  to  admit,  I'll  wager.)  Well,  as  you  know, 
each  week  on  the  Family  Counselor  portion  of  The  Second  Mrs. 
Burton,  we  have  a  visit  from  a  recognized  authority  in  one  of  the 
many  fields  that  are  of  interest  to  women.  When  Miss  Claire  Mann, 
the  noted  authority  on  health  and  beauty,  came  to  see  me,  she  passed 
on  so  many  sensible  tips  that  I  knew  you'd  want  to  hear  about  them, 
too.  In  her  New  York  studio,  Claire  Mann  has  taught  thousands  of 
men  and  women  the  science  of  relaxing — and  if  you  don't  think 
relaxing  is  a  science,  just  listen  to  Miss  Mann! 

"Women  of  all  ages  and  from  all  walks  of  life  come  to  me  with 
their  problems,  physical  and  emotional.  They're  tense  or  run-down 
from  'occupational  fatigue,' "  said  Miss  Mann.  I  interrupted  to  find 
out  exactly  what  she  meant  by  that  term,  and  she  explained  it  this 
way:  "It's  just  simply  this — women,  housewives  in  particular,  don't 
know  how  to  relax  during  the  day's  work.  That's  where  the  trouble 
starts.  You  take  a  man,  for  instance — if  he's  behind  a  desk,  he's  able 
to  find  time  for  a  cigarette  between  crises.  A  truck  driver  can  hop  out 
of  his  truck  for  a  cup  of  coffee." 

"Do  you  mean  that  a  woman  can  find  the  same  sort  of  relaxation  in 
her  home?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  she  can,  but  unfortunately  most  women  don't  know  how  to," 
admitted  our  Family  Counselor.  "As  long  as  she  is  in  her  home,  the 
average  woman  always  sees  things  about  her  that  need  mending,  or 
dusting,  or  fixing.  Result  is — occupational  fatigue.  Sometimes  it  takes 
the  form  of  a  real  pain,  or  perhaps — and  this  is  more  common — a  good 
case  of  nerves.  Then  over-tension  follows.  Occupational  fatigue  can 
creep  up  slowly  and  wear  you  down.  In  its  early  stages  it  may  make 
you  feel  frustrated,  tired — or  just  simply  bored.  Radio  programs,  such 
as  yours,  Mrs.  Burton,  help  to  alleviate  some  of  the  causes  of  her 
trouble  because  they  help  her  to  forget  her  own  problems.  And  I  find 
that  musical  therapy  is  a  fine  treatment  for  her  condition  because  it 
brings  relaxation.  When  you  start  the  tedious  part  of  your  work, 
make  it  a  point  to  turn  on  your  favorite  sort  of  music,  Bach  or 
boogie-woogie,  whatever  it  may  be — and  let  it  carry  you  through 
your   work. 

"That's  why  we,  in  our  studio,  are  so  successful,"  she  continued. 
"The  simple,  obvious  way  is  the  best  way  to  cure  nervous  pain  from 
lack  of  relaxation.  If  you  do  want  some  homework  though,  I  might  tell 
you  about  the  following  four  points  that  have  proved  helpful  for  so 
many  housewives.  First:  Empty  your  mind.  Second:  Breathe  deeply 
with  long,  smooth  exhalations.  Third:  Relax  the  muscles  so  that  they 
become  heavy.  Fourth:  Follow  the  music  and  learn  to  absorb  it.  What 
could  be  more  simple?"  By  the  time  the  interview  was  over,  I  felt 
completely  relaxed! 

If  you  have  a  problem  that  you  would  like  to  hear  discussed,  won't 
you  send  it  along  to  me,  in  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


By  TERRY  BURTON 


HeuJtb  and  beauty  advice 
from  authority  Claire  Mann 
(r.)  to  Second  Mrs.  Burton 
and      her      radio     audience. 


Every  Wednesday,  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  (played  by  Patsy  Campbell)  is  visited  by  an  authority  on  some  phase  of  women's-world  interest. 
Through   this  department,   Terry   Burton   shares  some  of   these  visits  with   Radio  Mirror  readers.     The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  may  be  heard 

each  Monday  through  Friday  at  2  P.M.,  EDT,  on  CBS  stations. 


Are  you  in  the  know? 


Would  a  smart  "red  head"  wear— 

□  Pink 

□  Orange 

□  Cerise 

So  you're  tired  of  "traditional"  colors.  You 
crave  a  change  to— (s-sh!)  pink— but  you've 
heard  it's  taboo  for  red  heads.  Well,  wear 
that  dreamy  pink  confection.  With  beauty 
experts'  blessing!  Any  pale  pink  with  a  sub- 
tle gold  tone;  like  a  very  delicate  flesh  or 
coral.  It's  smart  to  be  sure  your  choice  is 
right.  And  for  problem  days,  you're  smart 
to  choose  exactly  the  right  napkin.  Try  all 
3  sizes  of  Kotex!  Find  the  one  for  you. 


What's  your  winning  weapon? 

□  Sharp   chaffer 

□  Samba   know-how 

□  That  starry-eyed   look 

Chin  music  and  fancy  footwork  may  be  fine. 
But  to  set  him  mooning,  try  that  starry- 
eyed  look.  It's  accomplished  with  a  colorless 
brow  -  and  -  lash  cream  that  helps  condition 
'em.  Makes  lashes  seem  longer.  (Glamour  for 
your  lids,  as  well,  if  Mom  vetoes  eye  shadow.) 
To  win  self-confidence  on  "those"  days,  turn 
to  Kotex  — for  the  extra  protection  of  an 
exclusive  safety  center.  Your  secret  weapon 
against  secret  woes! 


When  it's  a  foursome,  what's  your  policy  ? 

□  Fair  play      □  All's  fair  in   love      □  Leave  the  field  to  Sue 


Ever  see  green  on  a  double  date?  Even  if 
he's  snareable  .  .  .  even  if  the  pressure's 
terrific  .  .  .  don't  be  a  male  robber.  Play 
fair.  Avoid  hurting  others.  Besides,  a  halo 
can  be  mighty  becoming.  And  when  trying 
days  needle  you,  seek  the  comforting  angel- 


softness  of  new  Kotex.  The  kind  of  softness 
that  holds  its  shape— because  Kotex  is  made 
to  stay  soft  while  you  wear  it.  Strictly  gen- 
ius! Did  you  know?  Or  have  you  already 
discovered  this  new,  softer  napkin?  (Poise, 
also,  comes  in  the  package  labelled  Kotex!) 


Afore  ivo/ne/?  choose  /COTEX 
than  a//  other  san/tary  na/?6/ns 


If  delayed  beyond  your  deadline  — 

□  Bunk  at  Katie's   house 
O  Call  the   family 

□  Head  home   without  'phoning 

H'm  .  .  .  later  than  you  thought !  Do  you 
cringe  before  a  'phone  booth?  Dread  waking 
Dad?  Better  call  the  family.  (They're  prob- 
ably waiting  up  for  you,  anyway.)  Telling 
where  you  are  and  when  you'll  be  home 
will  spare  them  worry;  soften  their  wrath.  And 
think  of  the  worry  you  can  save  yourself, 
at  certain  times,  with  Kotex.  For  who  could 
guess  .  .  .  with  those  flat  pressed  ends  to 
guard  you  from  tell-tale  outlines? 


Which 
deodorant  would 
you  decide  on? 

D  A  cream 
D  A  powder 
D  A  liquid 

Granted  you're  in  the  know  about 
naplans  .  .  .  what  about  ^^ 
ants  for  napkin  use?  Fact  is 
whde  creams  and  liquids  will  do' 
for  everyday  daintiness -yet,  for 
those  days  a  powder  deodor- 
ant s  best -sprinkled  freely  on 
sanitary  napkins.  That's  because 
a  powder  has  no  moisture-resist- 
ant base;  doesn't  slow  up  absorp- 

Powder    is    made    especially    for 
napkin  use.  ' 

Being  unscented,  Quest  De- 
odorant  Powder  doesn't  just  mask 
odors.  Quest  destroys  them.  Safely 
Positively.  To  avoid  offending,  bu'v 
a   can    of  Quest   Powder   today' 


Quest 

Deodorant 

Powder 

AsIc  for  it  by  nam. 


T.  M.  REG.  U.  S.  PAT.  OFF. 


Stronger  Grip 


Won't  Slip  Out 


ASK   FOR 


t-Jt'otg™ 


)  Every  time 


SPECIALTIES 


Iru  j\l\OMi  CianirjlSXdyi 


THE  three  pretty  girls  lending  beauty 
to  this  page  are  Patsy  Lee,  charming 
and  petite  nineteen-year-old  song- 
stress on  Don  McNeill's  Breakfast  Club, 
and  Charlotte  Manson  and  Mercedes 
McCambridge,  who  are  both  featured 
on  This  Is  Nora  Drake.  Charlotte  and 
Mercedes  also  play  on  Theater  of  Today. 
If  you're  a  real  radio  fan,  you  have 
heard  Mercedes'  voice  on  Grand  Cen- 
tral Station  and  Studio  One,  too. 

Radio  work  is  fascinating  fun,  all 
three  enthusiastically  agree.  But  it  can 
be,  and  is,  hard  work — especially  in  the 
heat  of  the  summer.  For,  even  as  you 
and  I,  who  also  have  to  keep  on  working 
(except  on  our  vacations,  of  course), 
they  can't  help  wishing  that  they  could 
spend  more  time  just  trying  to  keep 
cool.  The  best  way  they've  found  to 
keep  their  minds  off  the  heat  is  to  con- 
centrate on  bringing  you  good  enter- 
tainment. In  so  doing,  for  the  time 
being  they  can  forget  about  how  warm 
they  feel,  which  proves  a  point— that  if 
you  don't  dwell  on  something  unpleas- 
ant, it  won't  bother  you. 

Despite  the  heat,  however,  Patsy, 
Charlotte,  and  Mercedes  feel  that  it's 
important  to  look  their  prettiest — not 
alone  for  their  pride's  sake,  but  also 
because  it  matters  very  much  to  them 
what  others  think  of  their  appearance. 
Every  woman  understands  this.  But  not 
every  woman  knows  how  to  keep  cool 
and  dainty-looking  in  warm  weather. 
So,  we  asked  them  for  their  special 
beauty  hints. 

Patsy  takes  two  lukewarm  scented 
tub  baths  daily — morning  and  late 
afternoon,  and  dons  clean  underwear 
each  time.  After  every  wearing,  she 
rinses  out  her  underthings  immediately. 
She  alternates  between  using  cologne, 
toilet  water,  deodorant  cologne,  or 
deodorant  perfume,  which  has  been 
chilled  in  the  refrigerator.  Their  light 
floral  fragrances  match  or  blend  with 
the  scent  of  the  fresh  flowers  she  fre- 
quently wears  in  her  hair,  or  pinned 
at  her  waist  on  a  dainty  cotton  frock. 
In  humid  weather  she  shampoos  her 
hair  more  often,  so  that  it  always  looks 
as  bright  and  clean  as  she  is,  and 
brushes  it  a  lot.  The  home  permanent 
wave  Patsy  has  learned  to  give  herself 


;  '.  ■:>■.:,?    ...        '■■.' 
...... 


Patsy  Lee:  "Flowers 
can  make  a  summer." 

Mercedes       McCam- 
bridge: "Feet  first!" 


Charlotte      Manson: 
"Daintiness  counts ! " 


keeps  her  hair  nicely  in  curl — in  soft, 
natural-looking  waves. 

Charlotte  takes  no  chances  on  offend- 
ing; she  uses  an  underarm  deodorant 
and  perspiration  check.  A  face  mask 
makes  her  skin  feel  and  look  refreshed. 
Bath  powder,  dusted  on  her  body  after 
bathing,  lets  her  girdle  slide  on  easily, 
and  the  heat  emphasizes  the  powder's 
fragrance. 

Like  Patsy  and  Charlotte,  Mercedes 
feels  that  daintiness  is  never  so  im- 
portant as  it  is  in  warm  weather.  She, 
too,  follows  the  same  beauty  rituals. 
But,  in  addition,  she  pays  special  atten- 
tion to  her  feet.  She  gives  them  fre- 
quent foot  baths  to  relieve  soreness 
and  swelling,  dusts  them  with  an  anti- 
septic and  deodorizing  foot  powder,  and 
also  sprinkles  some  of  it  in  her  shoes. 


RADIO     MIRROR     for     Better     Living 


In  the  most  dramatic  beauty  test  ever  made : 


preferred  for 
Every 

fv  OuaW1 
Beauty  v  d  ^eV, 

Woodbury  ^^oday-see  iot 
yourseH  Jiat  *»;" 


over  all  leading  brands 
of  powder ! 


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covers  *in  flaw* 


tetter 


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6  exciting  shades! ...  Get  New 

Woodbury  Powder  — in  the 
new  "Venus"  box— at  any  cos- 
metic counter.  Large  size 
$1.00.  Medium  and  "Purse" 
sizes  30#  and  15tf .  ( plus  tax. ) 


trs  L//CE  START/A/O  L/FE  ALL  OVEZ  MA/A/  M7W  AA/  /A/CZED/BLY  LO/EUEZ  COMPLEX/OH / 


By 

DUKE   ELLINGTON 


■ 
lu 


THIS    month,    we've    decided   to    stick   to    good 
news — a  column  full   of  items  that  make  me 
■  happy.   First  off,  I'm  happy  to  be  back  at  work 
after    an    operation    at    Manhattan    Hospital. 
Thanks,   too,   to   Tex   Benecke   and   the   others 
who    subbed    for    me    on    my    disc-jockey    show    over 
WMCA,  WSBC,  WWDC,  KVOC  and  all  the  others. 

*  *         * 
I  liked  the  news  that  Joe  Mooney  fans  have  been  so 

persistent  that  Decca  has  consented  to  release  all  eight 
Mooney  discs  in  one  album.  The  sides  are  as  follows: 
"Lazy  Countryside,"  "Stars  In  You  Eyes,"  "Warm  Kiss 
And  A  Cold  Heart,"  "Tea  For  Two,"  "Just  A  Gigolo," 
"September  Song,"  "Meet  Me  At  No  Special  Place,"  and 
"I  Can't  Get  Up  The  Nerve  To  Kiss  You." 

*  *         * 
Perry  Como  is  still  in  Hollywood,  where  he  is  working 

on  the  musical  "Words  And  Music."  It's  a  film  based  on 
the  lives  of  Rodgers  and  Hart.  The  lovely  Lena  Home, 
you  know,  also  has  a  featured  role  in  it. 

*  *         * 
Here's  an  item  of  special  interest  to  jazz  fans.    Count 

Basie  and  Illinois  Jacquet  exchanged  drummers  re- 
cently, Shadow  Wilson  joining  the  Basie  Band,  while 
the  veteran  Jo  Jones  switched  to  the  Jacquet  crew. 

*  *         * 

It  was  wonderful  hearing  that  delightful  Dinah  Shore, 
who  hails  from  Nashville,  received  the  title  of  "The 
Most  Popular  Woman  In  The  South"  which  is  awarded 
annually  by  the  Southeastern  Women's  Exposition. 

*  *         * 

Among  the  record  favorites  on  my  disc  jockey  show 
you'll  be  interested  in  knowing  that  I've  been  getting 
lots  of  requests  lately  for  platters  by  Nancy's  Daddy. 
Frankie's  versions  of  "I  Went  Down  To  Virginia"  and 
"I've  Got  A  Crush  On  You"  are  just  fine.  Ethel  Smith's 
"Blame  It  On  The  Samba"  is  another  popular  platter. 

*  ♦         * 

Listening  to  the  new  Raymond  Scott  Quintet  is  a 
treat  for  sore  ears.    Ray,  you  know,  is  Mark  Warnow's 


From   composer   eden  ahbez 
himself,   Frank   Sinatra   got   coach- 
ing in  his  version  of  the 
record-breaking  "Nature   Boy." 


Eunice  Podis,  young  American  pianist,  told  Margaret  Arlen  (left) 
and  Harry  Marble  about  plans  for  her  coming  New  York  concert,  in 
an  interview  on  Miss  Arlen's  CBS  program.    (Mon.-Sat.  8:30  A.  M.) 


Sam  Spade's  secretary  at  home:  Lurene 
Tuttle  (above,  r.)  is  both  mother 
and     friend     of     teen-age      Barbara. 


brother  and  a  truly  original  composer  and  arranger.  His 
new  small  group  is  playing  the  same  type  of  unusual  com- 
position that  made  him  so  popular  a  few  years  back. 

Vaughn  Monroe  now  is  the  possessor  of  a  Lockheed 
Lodestar  thirteen  passenger  plane.  Vaughn  will  have 
both  a  pilot  and  co-pilot  for  use  on  one-nighters.  The 
man  flies  his  own  personal  plane,  too! 

*  *         * 

New  York's  famed  52nd  Street  has  really  been  jumping 
of  late.  In  recent  weeks  the  various  night  spots  have  been 
presenting  to  the  public  such  fine  talent  as  Errol  Garner, 
Art  Tatum,  Harry  The  Hipster,  J.  C.  Heard,  Charlie 
Parker,  George  Shearing,  Oscar  Pettiford,  Ella  Fitzgerald 
ffld  Lucky  Thompson. 

*  *         * 

Practicing  the  forbidden  cornet  in  the  chicken  coop  in- 


stead of  playing  his  violin  in  the  front  parlor  started 
Salvador  Camarata  on  his  career  as  composer,  conductor 
and  arranger.  Parental  objections  were  overcome,  how- 
ever, when  a  retired  circus  musician  neighbor  convinced 
the  Camarata  clan  that  Salvador,  or  "Tutti"  as  he  was 
called,  was  a  born  cornetist. 

Tutti  Camarata's  jazz  career  started  when  he  switched 
from  cornet  and  made  his  name  as  the  youthful  first 
trumpet  player  in  such  bands  as  Frank  Dailey's,  Joe 
Mooney's,  Charlie  Barnet's  and  Jimmy  Dorsey's.  It  was 
with  the  Dorsey  aggregation  that  Tutti  showed  his  capa- 
bilities as  an  arranger.  He  left  the  horn-tooting  to  others 
and  devoted  his  efforts  to  scoring  such  hit  discs  for  the 
band  as  "Green  Eyes,"  "Amapola,"  "The  Breeze  and  I," 
and  "My  Prayer."  When  the  band  was  selected  to  play 
for  Bing  Crosby  on  the  Music  Hall,  Tutti  was  given  the 
job    of    writing    two    special     (Continued    on    page    82) 


R 

M 

11 


*      *      *      *      * 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl  ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate   protection   is   needed  —  so  protect 

yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 


Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39'.'  plus  tax. 


(Advertisement) 
•k        *         *         *        *r 


12 


dLooh  at  the 

RECORDS 


By    Joe    Martin 


Here's  Cugat  by  Cugat,  who  is  a  capable 
caricaturist  when  he's  not  conducting.  For 
Nougats     by     Cugat,     see     review     below. 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

COUNT  BASIE  (RCA  Victor) — Any  time  the  Count  makes  a  record  you  can 
be  sure  that  the  "beat  is  there."  No  exception,  this.  Jimmy  Rushing  sings 
"Money  Is  Honey"  and  the  band  rocks  on  "Guest  In  A  Nest." 

TEX  WILLIAMS  (Capitol)— Believe  it  or  not,  this  is  a  Western  band  with 
a  real  beat,  too.  A  Kentonish  introduction  on  "Flo  From  St.  Joe,  Mo."  and  a 
clever  novelty  lyric  on  "Suspicion"  make  this  a  recommended  disc. 

THELONIOUS  MONK  (Blue  Note)— Basic  requirements  tor  a  be-bop  col- 
lection are  four  sides  by  the  "genius  of  bop."  In  the  order  of  our  own  prefer- 
ence, it's  "Suburban  Eyes,"  "Well  You  Needn't."  "Round  About  Midnight" 
and  "Thelonious." 

XAVIER  CUGAT  (Columbia) — Not  authentic  Latin-American  music,  but 
both  listenable  and  danceable  are  "Cugat's  Nougats"  and  "The  Mexican 
Shuffle." 

RAY  McKINLEY  (RCA  VICTOR)— "A  Man  Could  Be  A  Wonderful  Thing" 
is  a  wonderful  thing  the  way  Ray  does  it.  Marcy  Lutes,  the  new  gal  vocalist, 
is  fine.  Backing  is  Ray  again  singing  "Tambourine." 

ART  LUND  (MGM)— Irving  Berlin's  "It  Only  Hanpens  When  I  Dance  With 
You"  is  well  sung  by  Art  and  well  played  by  Johnny  Thompson's  band. 
"May  I  Still  Hold  You,"  the  reverse,  isn't  nearly  as  pretty  a  melody. 

BOB  CROSBY— JERRY  GRAY  (Bullet)— Good  as  Bob  is,  he  is  made  to 
sound  better  by  the  Jerry  Gray  orchestral  background  and  some  tasteful 
choral  background  by  the  Crew  Chiefs.  It's  the  old  "You're  My  Everything" 
and  the  new  "It's  Got  To  Be." 

SCAT  MAN  CROTHERS  (Capitol)— As  the  Scat  Man  himself  might  say, 
this  is  neat,  reet  but  not  so  sweet.  It's  as  wHrd  a  pairing  as  we've  ever  hoped 
to    hear.    Lots    of    fun    listening    to    "The    Thing"    and    "Dead    Man's    Blues." 


ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

STORMY  MONDAY  BLUES  (RCA  Victor)— A  set  of  eight  sides  of  Earl 
Hines  and  his  orchestra  with  vocals  by  Billy  Eckstine  makes  a  fine  package. 
Recorded  from  1940  to  1942,  this  group  of  selections  is  of  interest  to  Hines, 
Eckstine,  blues,  piano  or  jazz  collectors. 

JO  STAFFORD  (Capitol) — Jo  sings  American  folk  songs  with  full  orchestral 
accompaniment  instead  of  the  usual  guitar  background.  "Barbara  Allen," 
"Black  Is  The  Colour"  and  "He's  Gone  Away"  are  outstanding.  Paul  Weston's 
backings  are  excellent. 

FRANZ  LEHAR  WALTZES  (London)— A  very  unusual  package  from  the 
Continent,  this.  It  features  the  composer  himself  conducting  the  Zurich  Ton- 
halle  Orchestra  in  waltzes  from  "Eva"  and  the  "Count  of  Luxembourg"  and 
the  "Gold  And  Silver  Waltz." 

STAN  KENTON  (Capitol)— Whether  or  not  you  like  the  Kenton  school  of 
progressive  jazz,  this  is  of  particular  interest  for  its  attempts  at  emotional 
portrayal  in  the  modern  musical  form.  "Lonely  Woman"  is  haunting, 
"Monotony"  is   unusual. 


FACING  the  MUSIC 


Collector  &    L< 


or  5    Corner 


By  ELLIOT  LAWRENCE 

(This  month's  guest  collector  is  Elliot 
Lawrence,  youngest  of  the  nation's  big 
name  band  leaders.  Before  batoning  a 
dance  band,  Elliot  studied  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Pennsylvania  and  was  later 
musical  director  of  WCAU  in  Philadel- 
phia. In  addition  to  touring  and  record- 
ing for  Columbia,  Elliot  is  currently 
finishing  the  score  of  a  musical  comedy. 
Some  of  his  serious  compositions  have 
been  performed  by  symphony  groups.) 

Regardless  of  age  or  personal  prefer- 
ence, no  record  collection  is  really  com- 
plete without  some  of  the  wonderful 
music  that  has  come  from  Broadway 
shows  of  yesterday  and  today.  There 
are  show  tunes  to  conjure  up  or  meet 
the  needs  of  most  any  mood,  be  it  ro- 
mantic, gay  or  dramatic.  Many  are 
excellent  for  dancing — all  are  tops  for 
listening. 

Just  as  with  any  other  category  of 
discs,  the  best  way  to  start  a  collection 
of  show  tunes  is  to  gather  up  about  a 
dozen  singles  or  albums  that  are  repre- 
sentative of  the  best.  It  is  well  to  keep 
in  mind  that  the  composer  is  just  as 
important  as  the  artist.  Here  goes,  then, 
for  a  basic  list: 

From  Cole  Porter's  "Jubilee,"  the 
Artie  Shaw  version  of  "Begin  The  Be- 
guine"  (RCA  Victor). 

Frank  Sinatra's  singing  "All  The 
Things  You  Are,"  from  "Very  Warm 
For  May,"  by  Jerome  Kern  (Columbia) . 

The  complete  album  of  "Oklahoma," 
sung  by  the  original  cast  of  the  Rodgers 
and  Hammerstein  show  (Decca) . 

"Falling  In  Love  With  Love,"  from 
Rodgers  and  Hart's  "Boys  From  Syra- 
cuse" recorded  by  Andre  Kostelanetz 
(Columbia) . 

From  "Bandwagon,"  the  Arthur 
Schwartz  musical,  "Dancing  In  The 
Dark"  by  the  Fred  Waring  choir  and 
band  (RCA  Victor) . 

Ethel  Merman,  Ray  Middleton  and 
the  rest  of  the  cast  of  Irving  Berlin's 
"Annie  Get  Your  Gun"  between  the 
covers  of  one  album  (Decca). 

The  immortal  Bunny  Berrigan's  ver- 
sion of  "Can't  Get  Started,"  a  Vernon 
Duke  tune  from  "Ziegfeld  Follies" 
(RCA  Victor). 

The  complete  "Finian's  Rainbow" 
album,  with  the  witty  score  by  Har- 
bury,  Burton  and  Lane  (Columbia). 

Perry  Como's  vocal  version  of  "More 
Than  You  Know"  from  Vincent  You- 
man's   "Great  Day"    (RCA  Victor). 

Dinah  Shore's  interpretation  of  "I 
Can't  Give  You  Anything  But  Love" 
from  "Blackbirds  of  1928,"  by  Dorothy 
Fields  and  Jimmy  McHugh  (RCA  Vic- 
tor). 

Last,  but  among  the  very  best,  the 
complete  album  of  "Porgy  and  Bess"  by 
the   great   George   Gershwin    (Decca). 


Richard  Hudnut  Home  Permanent 


Take  Only  One*  Hour  Waving  Time  for  Your  Permanent 


If  you've  ever  put  your  hair  up  in 
curlers . . .  it's  that  easy  to  give  your- 
self the  new,  improved  richard  hud- 
nut home  permanent.  This  salon- 
type  home  permanent  is  based  on 
the  same  type  of  preparations  used 
in  the  Richard  Hudnut  Fifth  Avenue 
Salon  for  luxurious,  softer,  lovelier 
waves.  With  it,  you  can  set  your  hair 
in  any  style... from  a  sleek  cap  to 
a  halo  of  ringlets.  Ask  to  see  the 

RICHARD  HUDNUT  HOME  PERMANENT 


at  your  favorite  cosmetic  counter- 
today!  Price  $2.75;  refill  without 
rods,  $1.50  (all  prices  plus  30tf  Fed- 
eral Tax). 

^depending  on  texture  and  condition  of 
hair— follow  instructions. 

.    J    Saves  up  to  one-half 
."  usual  waving  time. 


One-third  more  waving 
lotion...  more  penetrating, 
but  gentle  on  hairl 

Longer,  stronger  end-papers 
make  hair  tips  easier  to  handle. 

Double-strength  neutralizer 
anchors  wave  faster,  makes 
curl  stronger  for  longer. 

Improved  technique  gives 
deep,  soft  crown  wave... 
non-frizzy  ends. 

Only  home  permanent  kit 
to  include  reconditioning 
creme  rinse. 

Two  lengths  of  rods.  Standard 
size  for  ringlet  ends;  extra- 
long  for  deep  crown  waves. 


13 


When  the  circus  was  in  New  York,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ed.  Herlihy  had 
their  work  cut  out  for  them  by  Donald,  four  and  Jeanne,  seven. 


Even  before  they  got  to  the  eat.-  Dad  Herlihy  crossed  many  a 
pahu  i\ilh  silver.    He's  host  on  NBC's  Honevmoon  in  New  York. 


NBC    photographer    Ike    Selby    caught    Donald 
urging  clown  Lou  Jacobs  to  come  home  with  him. 


R 

M 

14 


THE  more  we  see  and  hear,  the  more  con- 
vinced we  become  that  the  folks  who  are 
trying  so  hard  to  cling  to  the  status  quo 
are  hanging  on  to  something  that  "ain't."  The 
conscientious  parent  under  the  status  quo 
did  all  in  his  power  to  be  able  to  send  his 
son,  or  daughter,  to  college.  But  look  here, 
now.  If  current  NBC  plans  go  through,  that 
won't  be  necessary.  Fellows  and  gals  will 
be  able  to  study  via  the  network.  NBC  has 
set  up  an  ambitious  "University  of  the  Air" 
plan  and  is  now  in  the  process  of  asking 
several  universities  to  join  in.  Listeners 
would  enroll  in  the  universities  for  a  home 
study  course  (for  a  nominal  fee),  and,  at 
the  end  of  a  specified  period,  would  take  an 
exam.  On  passing,  the  student  would  receive 
a  joint  certificate  from  the  school  and  the 
University  of  the  Air. 


Some  things  just  don't  make  very  good 
sense  to  us.  All  around  there's  talk  about 
retrenchments,  with  plenty  of  sponsors  hold- 
ing out  on  re-signing  talent  until  it  takes  a 
substantial  cut.  On  the  other  hand  comes  an 
announcement  from  CBS  that  it  netted  better 
than  a  million  and  a  half  in  the  first  quarter 
of  1948,  which  tops  last  year's  high  for  that 
network.    You  figure  it  out. 

Former  stage  and  screen  star  Muriel 
Angelus  has  turned  down  a  meaty  Holly- 
wood offer,  for  two  good  reasons  .  .  .  her 
daughter  and  her  husband.  In  private  life, 
Muriel  is  Mrs.  Paul  Lavalle,  wife  of  radio's 
baton  wielder.  While  she  could  conceivably 
take  the  nine-months-old  baby  to  the  Coast, 
Paul  couldn't  leave  New  York  because  of  his 
radio  commitments.     Rather  than  leave  him 


COAST  t©   COAST 


nm 


■HHHHR''  v. :-' ' '. ; :  .. . 
Orthodox  Jonathan  ate  his   cotton   candy  from  the   top  down. 
It  paved  the  way  for  the  popcorn  and  ice  cream  that  followed. 


When  Clyde   Beatty's  circus  hit  L.  A.,  Martha 
Tilton's    Jonathan,    five,    met    Clyde    himself. 


By  the  time  they  saw  the  sword  swallower,  Jon  said  he  knew 
just  how  she  felt.    Except  that  her  sword  didn't  taste  so  good. 


alone,   wife   Muriel  turned   down   the   offer. 

*  *         * 

Pops  Whiteman  will  never  stop.  Now  he's 
been  elected  by  the  board  of  directors  of 
ABC  to  be  a  vice-president.  It  couldn't  have 
happened  to  a  nicer  guy,  we  say. 

Odd  data  .  .  .  Bob  Novak,  who  directs 
Mutual's  weekday  Newsreel  series,  is  a 
magician  for  relaxation.  He's  a  former 
president  of  the  New  York  chapter  of  the 
International  Brotherhood  of  Magicians  and, 
for  two  years,  trouped  around  the  world  for 
the  Army,  entertaining  hospitalized  GIs  with 
his  feats  of  magic. 

*  *  * 

By  this  time  in  radio  history,  whenever 
you  hear  a  couple  of  radio  comics  feuding 
on   their   programs    you're    fairly    sure   that 


they're  bosom  buddies  and  pay  their  script 
writers  a  tidy  piece  of  change  to  keep  the 
air  war  going.  Now,  there's  the  makings  of 
a  real  feud  in  the  biz.  Fred  Allen  is  still 
burning  because  Bing  Crosby  canceled  out 
a  guest  shot  on  the  comic's  show.  The  thing 
that  really  makes  Allen  sore  is  that  all  this 
took  place  after  Fred  had  already  cut  the 
recording  of  his  appearance  on  the  Groaner's 

stanza. 

*  *  * 

One  of  the  shortest  vacationers  is  the 
Beulah  Show,  which  returns  to  the  air 
about  the  middle  of  August.  We  have  to 
hand  it  to  the  writers  who  took  over  the 
scripting  assignment  on  this  series  after  the 
death  of  Marlin  Hurt,  its  originator  and 
creator.  They've  done  a  consistently  good 
job  of  retaining  all   (Continued  on  page  17) 


V 


15 


The  vocalists  on  KDKA's  Memory  Time.    In  the  foreground:     Elaine  Beverley,  Buzz  Aston,  Ev  iNeill   (at  the  piano),  Florence 
Berg  and  announcer  Bill  Sutherland.  In  the  back  row,  the  quartet,  Dick  Fisher,  Bob  Hughes,  Bernie  Markwell  and  Ray  Griffin. 


As  Musical  Director  of  Memory  Time, 
Al's  on  an  endless  search  for  those 
half-remembered  songs  which  are  so 
often    requested    under    wrong    titles. 


R 

M 

16 


BUILDING  any  kind  of  a  radio  show  is  no  easy  job,  but  when  it 
comes  to  preparing  a  show  like  KDKA's  Memory  Time,  half  hour 
musical  which  features  the  tunes  of  other  years  every  Thursday 
night  on  the  Pittsburgh  station,  there's  a  real  task  involved. 

Don't  take  anybody's  word  for  it.  Just  ask  Al  Marsico,  famed  Pitts- 
burgh musician  who  is  the  musical  director  of  the  production.  He 
says  he  doesn't  even  take  time  out  to  say  hello  when  he  meets  his 
friends.  Invariably  it's:  "Say,  tell  me  where  I  can  get  the  words 
and  music  of.  .  .  ." 

Currently  he's  looking  for  a  copy  of  "She  Sleeps  in  the  Valley  by 
Request."   If  you  can  help  him  out,  he'll  certainly  appreciate  it. 

Al  started  out  as  a  violinist  in  Millvale  High  School  and  began  his 
career  as  a  member  of  Ralph  Harrison's  orchestra.  He  bought  his 
own  baton  in  1928  when  he  went  to  Pittsburgh's  Enright  Theater  as 
musical  director.  One  of  his  first  duties  was  to  teach  a  young  singer, 
Dick  Powell,  how  to  m.c.  a  show.  Marsico  made  a  lot  of  other  famous 
friends  at  the  Enright,  folks  like  the  Ritz  Brothers,  Tom  Mix,  Burns 
and  Allen,  Olive  Borden  and  Joe  Penner. 

Al  began  a  round  of  night  club  work  in  1932  when  he  played  the 
old  Plaza  Restaurant.  In  1937,  he  went  to  the  Show  Boat  and  in 
1939  he  became  the  musical  director  at  Pittsburgh's  famous  Nixon 
Restaurant.    And  he's  still  there. 

He  was  selected  to  take  over  the  musical  chores  on  Memory  Time 
in  1943.  He's  been  at  it  ever  since,  working  in  close  harmony  with 
the  producer,  Ronnie  Taylor,  writer  Les  Stern  and  arranger,  Chauncey 
Lively.  With  its  18-piece  orchestra  and  singing  stars,  Memory  Time 
has  given  Pittsburgh  a  show  of  network  quality. 

Between  his  work  at  the  Nixon  and  at  KDKA,  Al  figures  he  devotes 
60  hours  a  week  to  music. 

He  worked  overtime  just  recently  during  construction  of  his  cottage 
at  Ligonier,  western  Pennsylvania  mountain  resort.  Marsico  and 
seven  other  musicians  bought  a  35-acre  tract  there,  complete  with 
well-stocked  lake  and  swimming  pool.  Al's  cottage  is  a  34x34  stone 
and  timber  structure  overlooking  the  lake. 


COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page    15) 

all  the  show's  comic  potentials  with- 
out sacrificing  the  dignity  and  natural 
wit  and  intelligence  of  the  central 
character  as  she  was  first  conceived. 
Marlin  Hurt  never  intended  Beulah  to 
be  a  stereotype  comedy  Negro  and  she 
hasn't  become  one,  although  the  job  of 
avoiding  cliches  in  situations  and  gags 
must  be  a  heavy  one,  now  that  the 
show  is  on  five  times  a  week. 


Elvia  Allman,  who  plays  Mrs.  Buff- 
Orpington  on  the  Blondie  show,  is  very 
pleased  with  the  results  of  an  idea  she 
had  back  in  the  Spring.  There's  a  large 
and,  formerly,  unsightly  vacant  lot  next 
to  Elvia's  home.  Last  Spring,  when 
Elvia  and  her  husband  were  working  to 
re-landscape  their  garden,  they  wound 
up  with  some  plants  and  shoots  and 
seeds  left  over.  They  planted  their 
left-overs  in  the  vacant  lot  and  now 
it's  a  pleasure  to  see  the  eyesore 
changed  into  a  beauty  spot. 

*  *         * 

One  thousand  guests,  including  all 
the  stars  who  have  contributed  their 
performances  to  the  Screen  Guild 
Players  radio  show,  recently  attended 
the  dedication  of  the  hospital  built  with 
funds  from  the  proceeds  of  the  Screen 
Guild  Players  series.  The  40-bed  hos- 
pital, which  cost  $1,300,000,  adjoins  the 
famous  Motion  Picture  Country  House, 
a  Motion  Picture  Relief  Fund  project 
which  takes  care  of  anyone  who  has 
worked  in  the  film  industry  for  20  years 
and  who  is  no  longer  able  to  support 
himself.  Jean  Hersholt,  president  of 
the  Fund,  presided  over  the  cere- 
monies and  the  program  featured 
Dinah  Shore,  Robert  Montgomery,  Ron- 
ald Reagan,  Shirley  Temple  and  The 
King's  Men. 

*  *        ■  * 

When  Groucho  Marx  arrived  in  New 
York  awhile  ago,  everybody  was  even 
happier  than  usual  to  see  him  .  .  . 
because  he  was  sporting  a  real  mus- 
tache, which  makes  him  look  really 
like  Groucho  Marx,  if  you  get  what 
we  mean. 

*  *         * 

John  Loveton,  producer-director  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North,  had  his  hands  full 
a  couple  of  weeks  ago.  Linda  Watkins, 
a  nice  young  lady  who  specializes  in 
gun  molls  on  the  program,  is  a  cat 
fancier  and  owns  six  felines.  One  of 
them  had  to  be  taken  to  a  vet,  so  Linda 
brought  it  to  the  studio  with  her  to 
save  having  to  pick  it  up  after  the 
show.  She  put  the  cat  in  the  control 
room  to  keep  it  out  of  the  way  during 
air  time.  But  cats  aren't  crazy  about 
strange  places  and  this  one  got  excited 
in  the  middle  of  the  show  and  started 
acting  up  with  the  controls  and  director 
Loveton.  John  was  a  very  tired  and 
irritated  man  when  he  came  out  of  that 
control  booth  after  the  show  went  off 
the  air.  And  Linda  has  promised  to 
keep  her  business  and  her  hobby  strictly 
apart  from  here  on. 

*  *  * 

Bet  you'll  never  guess  what  pro- 
fession is  represented  most  often  by 
contestants  who  appear  on  Sammv 
Kaye's  So  You  Want  To  Lead  a  Band? 
program.  Believe  it  or  not — under- 
takers. 

*  *         * 

There  are  many  reasons  why  there's 
no    business    (Continued    on   page    95) 


II 


4    WJrtn\ 


Vum  nij< 


BR6SS    BY    WILLIAM    BASS 


/.  "Here's  how  I  manage  morning  to 
moonlight  dress  problems,"  says  this  smart 
career  girl.  "I  wear  a  little  scarf  caught 
with  a  chic  gold  pin  at  the  neck  of  my  silk 
shantung  dress.  And,  of  course,  I  rely  on 
new,  even  gentler,  even  more  effective 
Odorono  Cream.  Because  I  know  it  protects 
me  from  perspiration  and  offensive  odors  a 
full  24  hoursT' 

You'll  find  new  Odorono  so  safe  vou 
can  use  it  right  after  shaving!  So  harmless 
to  fine  fabrics  .  .  .  protects  clothes  from 
stains  and  rotting!  So  creamy-smooth  too 
. . .  even  if  you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks! 


2.  "When  date  time  comes,  I  change 
the  scarf  for  a  dashing  striped  silk  stole, 
fasten  with  a  glittering  pin  and  belt.  I'm 
confident  of  my  charm  all  evening  too — 
thanks  to  new  Odorono  Cream.  Because 
the  Halgene  in  Odorono  gives  more  effective 
protection  than  any  deodorant  known." 

Now,  Odorono  Cream  brings  you  an  im- 
proved new  formula  . . .  even  gentler,  even 
more  effective  than  ever  before  ...  all 
done  up  in  its  pretty,  bright  new  package. 
Buy  some  today  and  see  if  you  don't  find 
this  the  most  completely  satisfying  de- 
odorant you  have  ever  used. 


S]erh5  p^5pin4TCcYi  o<m&  oJicx. 


(Now  in  new  25£  and  50i  sizes,  phis  tax.) 


17 


WHEN  Edmund  Dawes,  generally  addressed  as 
"Skipper,"  graduated  from  Swarthmore  Col- 
lege in  1932,  he  formed  an  orchestra  of  former 
college  students,  spotting  himself  where  he  could 
do  the  most  good — at  the  piano.  The  group  soon 
had  a  job  with  the  Holland-America  steamship 
line. 

Skip  saw  no  future  in  entertaining  tourists,  so 
he  became,  successively,  a  cheese  salesman  and 
then  an  insurance  investigator.  Neither  job  held 
much  promise  either,  so  Skip  went  back  to  school. 
In  1938  Temple  University  gave  him  a  master's 
degree  in  music  education.  He  became  music 
supervisor  in  Bangor,  Pennsylvania,  and  then 
supervisor  of  elementary  school  music  in  Haver- 
ford  Township. 

In  August,  1942,  the  father  of  one  of  his  pupils 
named  Skip  for  a  WFIL  opening.  Inside  of  one 
month's  time,  Mr.  Dawes  had  gotten  himself  a  new 
job,  a  new  house,  and  a  new  baby. 

One  of  his  first  assignments  was  to  record  a  short 
program  to  be  replayed  in  Philadelphia  schools  to 
stimulate  a  scrap  metal  drive.  It  was  good  enough 
to  move  Dr.  Philip  A.  Boyer  of  the  Board  of  Edu- 
cation to  suggest  that  WFIL  start  a  series  of  educa- 
tional programs  for  classroom  use. 

The  'idea  caught,  and  with  Skip  at  the  helm, 
WFIL  began  broadcasting  Quaker  City  Scrappers, 
the  first  radio  program  designed  for  in-school  lis- 
tening produced  by  a  Philadelphia  station.  With 
Skip  as  educational  director  for  the  station,  that 
single  program  grew  to  five  programs  a  week — the 
most  popular  of  all  Philadelphia's  school  series. 

In  1943,  Skip  began  the  Magic  Lady  programs, 
which  were  designed  chiefly  to  appeal  to  children. 
In  that  same  year,  Skip  formed  an  all-teen-age- 
girls  chorus,  The  Choraleens,  and  the  22-voice 
group  became  ABC  network  stars,  broadcasting  a 
series  of  weekly  programs  coast-to-coast.  That 
same  chorus  forms  the  backbone  of  another  Dawes' 
production,  Teen  Age  Time,  broadcast  Saturdays 
at  9:00  a.m.  in  Philadelphia.  Skip  directs  The 
Choraleens  in  two  other  weekly  broadcasts  and 
handles  a  weekly  television  program  in  addition. 

His  wife,  Betty,  and  his  two  sons,  Edmund,  12, 
and  Robert,  6,  think  he's  a  pretty  clever  guy. 

The  Skipper  pours  for  Candy,  Eddie  and  Angie. 


KIPPER 


R 
M 

18 


(jf(//"f 


/•// 


^~&r< '/<*<■ 


CATHY  MacGREGOR  was  bom  in 
New  York  City  and  she  was  slated 
for  the  theater  from  the  day  she  was 
born,  for  her  whole  family  was  in  it. 
And  her  uncle,  Edgar  MacGregor,  was 
one  of  the  most  successful  musical 
directors  of  his  time. 

Uncle  Edgar  always  said,  "Have  a 
happy,  carefree  childhood,  dear,  and 
when  you  are  ready  come  to  me."  So 
Cathy  went  to  school,  appeared  in  every 
play  the  schools  put  on. 

In  1939,  Cathy  was  graduated  from 
Curtis  High  School  on  Staten  Island. 
And  she  went  to  her  Uncle  Edgar.  She 
was  ready.  But  Uncle  Edgar  said,  "Well, 
it  isn't  as  easy  as  all  that,  dear."  So 
Cathy  decided  she'd  better  learn  how 
to  make  a  living.  She  bought  a  book 
and  learned  stenography  and  typing  in 
one  month. 

On  her  first  secretarial  job  she  met  a 
girl  who  was  connected  with  the  Little 
Theater  at  the  YWCA.  After  office 
hours,  the  two  girls  worked  in  the  Lit- 
tle Theater  and  during  the  summer 
caught  a  5  o'clock  train  for  Mountain 
Lakes,  New  Jersey,  every  day,  to  work 
in  summer  stock.  They  had  a  wonder- 
ful time  and,  by  the  end  of  the  sum- 
mer, both  of  them  had  pernicious 
anemia. 

Through  a  friend,  Cathy  got  an  audi- 
tion with  Bob  and  Betty  White  on  the 
People's  Playhouse  show.  The  Whites 
were  very  enthusiastic  about  her  acting 
and  advised  her  to  give  up  everything 
else  and  stick  to  radio.  And  suddenly 
she  began  to  get  jobs  in  radio,  in  very 
unusual  ways.  For  instance,  unknown 
though  she  was,  she  insisted  on  reading 
for  a  part  in  Studio  One's  production  of 
"King's  Row,"  and  so  impressed  direc- 
tor Fletcher  Markle  that  he  gave  her 
the  part  and  pointedly  introduced  her 
to  the  audience  as  one  of  the  most  bril- 
liant actresses  to  come  his  way.  Then 
she  got  a  running  comedy  part  on  the 
Perry  Mason  series,  because  she  ran 
into  Arthur  Hanna,  the  director  then, 
on  a  furiously  cold  day  on  52nd  Street 
and  impressed  herself  on  him  by  being 
able  to  joke  about  the  cold  which 
made  him  so  miserable.  The  writers 
on  the  Dick  Tracy  program  also  found 
themselves  writing  the  part  of  Joan 
Ashland  into  the  script  more  often  than 
they'd  originally  planned,  after  Cathy 
started  playing  it. 

Catherine  MacGregor  is  on  her  way 
up,  now.  She's  found  her  way  at 
attracting  attention,  initially  by  her 
sparkling  good  humor  which  infects 
everyone,  then  by  her  really  compelling 
performances.  Watch  for  her,  because 
she's  moving  very  fast. 


Perfume  75c  to  $12.50 

Eau  de  Cologne 
65c  to  $1.50 

Bath  Powder  $1.25 

All  Prices  Plus  Tax 


More  swiftly  than  the  eye,  more  clearly  than  the  spoken 
word,  this  sweet  and  gentle  fragrance  tells  the  story  of 
your  charm.  None  can  forget  its  haunting  perfume  .  .  . 
nor  resist  the  appeal  of  the  one  who  wears  it. 


BOURJOIS 


19 


RALPH  HUBBELL 


Charley  Bailey  of  WEBR,  Jim  Wells,  Vice  President  of  the  Buffalo 
Bills'  Football  Team;   Sig   Smith   of  WKBW  and  Ralph  Hubbell. 


R 

M 

20 


Ralph   is   the   subject   when    the    obliging    Mike    Mazurki,   wrestler 
and    movie   actor,    demonstrates    an    airplane    spin    for    WBEN-TV. 


BACK  in  the  early  30's  when  Ralph  Hubbell  was 
breaking  into  Buffalo  radio,  he  had  a  daily  poetry 
program,  in  addition  to  his  nightly  sportscast. 
One  day  he  received  a  glowing  letter  from  the 
rugged  Jimmy  Slattery,  of  Buffalo,  then  the  light- 
heavyweight  champion  of  the  world. 

"Please,"  wrote  Jimmy,  "send  me  a  copy  of  the 
verse  you  read  on  the  air  today.    It  was  swell." 

This  letter — from  an  athlete  who  wrote  not  about 
sports  but  about  poetry — illustrates  the  wide  appeal 
of  the  Hubbell  voice  and  helps  to  explain  why  the 
WBEN  sports  director  makes  more  than  100  personal 
appearances  annually,  in  addition  to  his  12  weekly 
sportscasts. 

The  youthful  dean  of  Buffalo  sportscasters  has 
broadcast  every  sport  from  badminton  to  wrestling 
in  his  17  years  in  radio.  He  has  always  loved  his  job 
and  is  even  more  enthusiastic  now  that  WBEN-TV 
has  added  television. 

"I  had  to  learn  when  not  to  talk  in  television," 
the  smiling  sportscaster  said,  "because  the  fan  has 
the  picture  of  the  action  in  front  of  him.  Of  course, 
in  a  wrestling  match  the  sportscaster  helps  by  ex- 
plaining the  various  holds  and  adds  facts  on  forma- 
tions when  telecasting  football." 

Ralph  is  an  athlete  himself — he  broke  80  in  golf 
last  year — and  won  several  varsity  letters  at  Brook- 
lyn's Flatbush  High.  When  he  graduated  from  Flat- 
bush  in  1930,  it  marked  the  14th  school  he  had 
attended  in  six  different  states. 

After  his  mother  died  in  1919,  the  sportscaster  was 
raised  by  a  maiden  aunt,  a  teacher  who  taught  in 
schools  from  New  York  to  Florida.  She  took  Ralph 
with  her  wherever  she  went  and  he  acquired  a  re- 
markable knowledge  of  the  habits  of  peoples. 

Ralph  was  once  a  director  of  boys'  work  at  a  settle- 
ment school  in  the  rough-and-ready  Red  Hook  sec- 
tion of  Brooklyn.  This  practical  experience  served 
him  in  good  stead  and  he  is  an  outspoken  advocate 
of  the  value  of  boys  clubs'  activities. 

On  his  way  up  to  his  present  post,  Ralph  has 
worked  in  various  capacities  on  all  other  Buffalo 
stations,  which  is  somewhat  of  a  record  in  itself.  He 
came  to  WBEN  from  WGR  on  February   29,   1948. 

When  Ralph  makes  any  kind  of  prediction  in  sports, 
he  is  certain  to  have  at  least  two  faithful  fans  who 
are  about  to  double-check  him  on  the  reasons  why. 
They  are  his  two  sons — Peter,  11,  and  Philip,  8. 

Hubbell  broadcasts  over  WBEN  every  weekday 
evening  at  6:15,  Monday  through  Friday  nights  at 
11:25  and  every  Sunday  evening  at  6:45. 


Vvrv/ 


(j/i/iAf/t) 


Nora   Drake,   CBS 
Mon.-Fri.,  2:30  p.m.  EDT 


A  POPULAR  American  notion  is  that 
people  who  make  good  in  show 
business  come  from  small-to- 
middlin'-towns,  migrate  to  New  York 
or  Hollywood,  storm  the  gates  and 
zoom  to  the  top.  This  notion  is  prob- 
ably what  leads  hundreds  of  hopefuls 
each  year  to  these  two  Meccas  of  suc- 
cess. And  these  hundreds  of  outlanders 
are  what  make  it  so  difficult  and  so 
rare  that  a  born  New  Yorker,  or  Cali- 
fornian,  even  makes  a  hit  in  the  home 
town.  But  Joan  Tompkins,  who  plays 
the  leading  role  on  This  Is  Nora 
Drake  (CBS,  Monday  through  Friday 
at  2:30  PM,  EDT),  came  through  with 
flying   colors. 

Not  exactly  a  New  York  City  native, 
Joan  was  born  in  Mount  Vernon,  N.  Y., 
which  is  a  hamlet  about  20  minihtes 
from  Manhattan.  She's  been  in  the 
theatre  practically  all  her  life,  having 
made  her  first  professional  appearance 
in  a  local  production  at  the  age  of  five. 
She  spoke  one  line  in  that  play — but  in 
Italian.  She  went  to  school  like  every 
other  American  child,  but  she  trained 
herself  for  her  future,  by  working  in 
summer  stock  year  after  year. 

In  1933,  she  tackled  Broadway  and 
without  too  much  difficulty  landed  a 
part  in  "Fly  Away  Home".  That  led  to 
roles  in  "Pride  and  Prejudice,"  "Golden 
Journey,"  "Saint's  Husband"  and  "My 
Sister  Eileen."  It  was  during  the  run 
of  this  last  play  that  Joan  met  an  actor 
named  Bruce  MacFarlane — and,  later, 
married  him.  In  those  years,  Joan  went 
on  the  road,  too. 

Joan  is  a  radio  veteran  of  over  10 
years.  At  first,  it  looks  as  though  she 
broke  into  radio  in  a  strictly  routine 
manner,  applying  for  an  audition,  read- 
ing for  some  directors  and  getting  a 
job  on  a  series  called  Snow  Village 
Sketches.  But  the  twist  is  that  five 
whole  years  passed  after  this  break, 
before  someone  at  the  studio  dug  her 
file  card  out  of  the  dusty  files  again. 
Oddly  enough,  when  she  was  summoned 
after  this  five-year  lapse,  it  wasn't  for 
a  small  bit.  It  was  for  the  lead  in 
Your  Family  and  Mine.  And,  since 
then,  there  have  been  no  lapses  what- 
soever. In  fact,  sometimes,  Joan  wishes 
there  were  more  than  24  hours  a  day, 
because  besides  her  lead  in  This  Is 
Nora  Drake,  Joan  has  prominent  roles 
in  David  Harum,  Young  Widder  Brown, 
the  lead  for  two  years  on  Lora  Lawton 
and  Call  the  Police. 


ON  THE  RADIO  I  heard  a  haunting  song 
about  a  new  shampoo:  "Dream  Girl  .  .  . 
beautiful  Lustre-Creme  Girl."  Since  I  was 
no  "dream"  in  Jim's  eyes,  it  gave  me 
new  hope  for  my  dull-looking,  unruly  hair! 


HAPPY  ME  I  \  noted  hairdresser  gave  me  a 
Lustre-Creme  shampoo  with  magic  results. 
"Use  it  at  home,  too,"  he  said.  "It's  not  a 
soap,  not  a  liquid,  bill  a  dainty,  new  cream 
shampoo  with  lanolin.  It  glamorizes  hair!" 


Lonely  bachelor-girl  becomes 
LUSTRE  CREMEDream  Girl 


a 


JIM  TURNED  ROMANTIC  .  .  .  the  night  we  dined  at  his  country 
club.  Someone  switched  on  a  radio  and  there  was  the  Dream  Girl 
song.  Jim,  for  the  first  time,  noticed  my  hair  — now  so  lovely,  thanks 
to  my  home-shampooing  with  Lustre-Creme.  "Say,"  he  whispered, 
"that  song  fits  you.  How  about  being  my  Mrs.  Dream  Girl?" 


faAjmi**s-(3t&mx. 


Ibr 

Soft. 

Glamorous 

'Dream-Girl" 

Hair 


Whether  you  prefer  the  TUBE  or  the  JAR, 
you'll    prefer    LUSTRE-CREME   SHAMPOO 


YOU,  TOO  .  .  .  can  have  soft,  glamorous  "Dream 
Girl"  hair  with  magical  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo. 
Created  1>\  Kay  Dumiiil,  to  glamorize  hair  with 
new  3-waj  loveliness: 

1.    Fragrantly  clean,  lice  of  loose  dandruff 
2.  Glistening  with  sheen 
3.   Soft,  easy  to  manage 

Lustre-Creme  is  a  blend  of  secret  ingredients — 
pin-  gentle  lanolin,  akin  to  the  oils  in  a  healths 
scalp.  Lathers  richly  in  hard  or  soft  water.  Vo 
special  rinse  needed.  Trj  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo ! 
He  a  lovely  "Lustre-Creme"  Dream  Girl 
jar  $1.00;  -mailer  size-  in  jars  or  tube-.  I'V'  and 
25c.  At  all  cosmetic  counters.  Try  it  today! 
Kay  Daumil,  Inc.  (Successor)  919  N.  Michigan  Ave.  .Chicago,  III. 


You  can  say  6*res" 
to  Romance 


Veto  says  "no" 
to  Offending! 


Veto  says  "no*' 

—to  perspiration  worry  and  odor! 

Soft  as  a  caress  .  .  .  exciting  .  .  .  new — Veto  is 

Colgate's  wonderful  cosmetic  deodorant.  Always  creamy, 

always  smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you  lovely  all  day! 

Veto  stops  underarm  odor  instantly  .  .  .  checks  perspiration 

effectively.  And  Veto  lasts  and  lasts — from  bath  to  hath! 

You  feel  confident  .  .  .  sure  of  exquisite  daintiness. 


Veto  says  "no" 

—  to  harming  skin  and  clothes! 

So  effective  .  .  .  yet  so  gentle — Colgate's  lovely, 
new  cosmetic  deodorant,  Veto,  is  harmless  to  any  normal  skin. 

Harmless,  loo,  even  to  your  filmiest,  mosl  fragile  fabrics. 
For  Vein  alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredient 
in  make  Vein  safer.  No  other  deodorant  can  be  like  Veto! 
Sn  trust  11/ ways  lu  Veto — if  you  value  your  charm! 


Trust  always  to  Veto 
if  you  'value 

your  charm! 


Cuban    radio    executive    Goar    Mestre 

wanted  a   Cuban   counterpart   of   our  Radio 

City.   Pearl   Carrington   wanted   to 

fly.    They'd   never   heard    of   each    other 

before — but  when  his  dream  came 

true,  hers  did  too,  in  a  truly  miraculous  way 


STAL  VENEZOLANAJ 


By   PEARL   D.   CARRINGTON 


YOU  know  those  people  who  sometimes  call  you  up  and 
ask  you  what  radio  program  you're  listening  to?  Well, 
take  a  little  advice  from  me.  Whenever  they  call  be  very, 
very  polite  to  them.  It  may  be  just  an  ordinary  radio  poll 
but  it  may  be  .  .  .  well,  I'm  getting  ahead  of  my  story. 

It  all  began  when  I  was  at  home  alone  one  night.  I 
have  a  daughter  and  a  son,  both  of  them  married.  Until 
they  went  away  I  was  one  of  the  busiest  women  alive.  I 
kept  house,  did  all  the  sewing,  baked  the  bread — partly  to 
save  money  and  partly  because  we  all  liked  home-made 
bread.  I  even  made  the  slip  covers  and  draperies  and  cur- 
tains for  the  house  and  did  all  my  own  carpentry  work. 

Then  I  found  myself  fairly  idle  for  the  first  time,  with 
the  children  gone.  Of  course,  I  still  sewed  for  ray  daughter 
and  daughter-in-law  but  that  did  not  fill  the  days.  I  read  a 
lot  and  listened  a  lot  to  the  radio,  which  I  had  not  had  time 
for  before. 

This  night,  just  after  supper,  the  telephone  rang  and  a  man 
asked  me  if  I  had  my  radio  on  and  what  I  was  hearing. 
This  has  happened  to  me  several  times  and  usually  those 
are  the  only  two  questions  asked.  But  that  night  the  man 
was  more  inquisitive.  He  wanted  to  know  a  lot  of  things 
about  me — how  much  I  listened  to  the  radio,  what  programs 
I  liked,  what  ones  I  didn't  like. 

He  asked  me  if  I  liked  the  disc  jockeys.   At  first  I  thought 


he  meant  those  lovely  recorded  musical  programs  but  when 
he  explained  I  said,  "Oh,  you  mean  those  men  who  play 
popular  records  late  at  night  and  giggle  in   between." 

He  seemed  to  think  this  was  funny  and  then  he  started  to 
get  very  personal.  He  asked  me  how  old  I  was  and  what 
family  I  had.  He  had  a  pleasant  voice  and  seemed  nice  so 
I  told  him  what  he  wanted  to  know  and  thought  no  more 
about  it. 

Then  the  miracle  happened!  A  week  later  he  called  again 
and  asked  me  if  I  would  like  to  fly  to  Cuba  to  participate  in 
the  opening  of  Cuba's  Radio  City — all  expenses  paid.  At 
first  I  could  not  believe  it.  Well,  would  you?  If  it  had 
happened  to  you? 

The  funny  thing  is  that  one  of  my  dreams  has  been  to 
take  a  long  air  trip,  but  I  had  never  had  the  time  or  the 
money.  And  Cuba  was  a  place  I  had  always  wanted  to  see. 
When  I  was  a  girl  I  had  spent  some  time  in  Mexico  and  my 
father  had  once  been  the  Texas  correspondent  to  a  Cuban 
newspaper.  And  now  here  was  a  strange  man  asking  me  if 
I  would  like  to  fly  to  Cuba.    Would  I!    Wouldn't  I  just! 

I  don't  know  how  I  sounded  when  he  convinced  me  it 
wasn't  a  joke.  And  that  I  wasn't  dreaming.  I  wasn't  sure 
until  the  letter  came  which  explained  everything.  I  had 
been  selected  as  a  typical  American  radio  listener  and  was 
invited  to  join  a  group  of  radio    (Continued   on  page   97) 


R 

■ 
2: 


Summing  up  the  Georges:  past — dark  with 


hardship ;  future — bright  with   promise.  And 


the  present?    Sheer,  delirious  happiness! 


M 
24 


By 

Mrs. 

WARD 

GEORGE 


WINNER  OF 

PEOPLE  ARE 

FUNNY 

"BRIGHT 

FUTURE" 

CONTEST 


IVople    Arc 
I'unny    'm  heard 
Friday!   9  I'  M 
Mil     on     M»<: 


I'LL  never  forget  that  look  on  Art  Linkletter's 
face  when  I  gave  ray  answer  to  the  "Big  Chief 

Windbag"  riddle.  He  seemed  so  shocked  that 
I  was  sure  I  had  failed! 

It  was  the  People  Are  Funny  NBC  program.  The 
contest  had  been  going  on  for  months  .  .  .  and 
this  Friday  I  was  the  lucky  candidate  who  had 
been  chosen  to  appear  and  see  if  I  could  guess  the 
city — a  big  city — the  name  of  which  was  buried  in 
the  "Big  Chief  Windbag"  riddle: 

"Big  Chief  Windbag,  gloomy  and  gay 
I'm  one  over  others  that  lie  in  decay 
Where  may  I  be  found?  Upon  low  ground 
That's  all.  .  .  .  That's  all  I  will  say." 

So  there  I  was.  And  when  Art  had  asked  me: 
"Well,  Mrs.  George — there's  the  riddle  and  you 
have  only  one  guess.  Listen  carefully."  He  re- 
peated it  again.  "Mrs.  George,  what  city  do  you 
say  is  Big  Chief  Windbag?" 

"Cairo,  Egypt,"  I  managed  to  whisper. 

That  was  when  he  got  that  peculiar,  shocked 
expression  on  his  face.  (Of  course,  now  I  realize 
that  Art  Linkletter  is  a  natural-born  tease,  and 
that  he  couldn't  resist  keeping  both  me  and  the 
audience  in  suspense  just  a  little  J?it  longer.) 

But  I  didn't  realize  it  then.    And  in  the  ten  sec- 


onds it  took  him  to  speak,  I  died  ten  thousand 
deaths. 

Then  it  came. 

"That  ends  the  contest.  YOU  ARE  THE 
WINNER!" 

I  hope  I  never  come  closer  to  fainting  again  in 
my  life.  There  was  a  kind  of  roaring  in  my  ears 
that  was  only  partly  due  to  the  pandemonium 
from  the  studio  audience,  and  I  was  genuinely  in 
need  of  the  bottle  of  smelling  salts  that  Art  Link- 
letter  pulled  out  of  his  pocket  and  shoved  under 
my  nose.  He  did  it  as  a  gag — but  it  was  no  gag 
to  me. 

Imagine!  ...  I  had  written  a  letter — just  a  brief 
simple  letter  of  two  paragraphs,  expressing  my 
hope  and  sympathy  to  a  family  in  Europe  from 
my  husband  and  myself.  This  had  earned  me — 
when  Secretary  of  Agriculture  Clinton  P.  Ander- 
son selected  mine  out  of  the  thousands  sent  in — 
the  right  to  appear  on  the  People  Are  Funny 
show.  Then,  just  two  words — two  words,  mind 
you! — Cairo,  Egypt — had  won  for  me  prizes  such 
as  you  could  only  dream  about  in  an  Arabian 
Nights  tale. 

A  completely  furnished,  brand  new  home — two 
bedrooms,  den,  living  room,  dining  room  alcove, 
kitchen  and  service  porch.  And  when  I  say  fur- 
nished, I  mean  beautifully!   From  lovely  sofas  and 


Inside  and  out,  the  house  is  spic  and  span  and 
pretty  as  Mrs.  George's  most  extravagant  dreams. 
And  complete   down  to   the  last  stick  of  furniture. 


HW  MR  Ft/71/K£ 


chairs  to  an  electric  dishwasher,  electric  stove, 
refrigerator — oh,  everything!  And  a  1948  Kaiser 
four-door  sedan.  And  if  Ward  and  I  wanted  to 
move  to  Los  Angeles,  a  job  guaranteed  for  both 
of  us,  in  whatever  field  we  were  interested  in. 

This  is  the  bright,  lovely  future  that  People  Are 
Funny  have  given  me.  To  remember  what  was 
the  Past,  before  that  lucky  Friday  night,  I'll  take 
you  back  to  the  preceding  Monday  of  that  same 
week. 

It  was  a  Monday  in  the  small  town  of  Lebanon, 
Oregon,  where  the  first  day  of  the  week  is  a  work- 
day for  the  men,  and  wash-day  for  the  housewives. 
But  I  was  doing  neither.  A  headache  had  kept 
me  home  from  my  part-time  job  in  the  plant 
nursery,  and  that  same  headache  made  me  turn 
from  the  laundry  basket  with  distaste.  Instead, 
while  I  cooked  my  lunch  over  the  electric  hot 
plate  that  served  us  as  a  stove,  my  mind  went 
back  to  its  favorite  pastime.  Wondering  about 
the  "Big  Chief  Windbag"  riddle. 

Weeks  ago  I  had  written  my  letter,  and  enclosed 
ten  cents  to  the  family  in  Europe.  Believe  me, 
ten  cents  was  all  I  could  spare!  When  you  are 
living,  as  we  two  were,  in  an  eight  hundred  and 
fifty  dollar,  mail  order,  imitation  paper  brick 
house  on  which  you  still  owe  six  hundred  dollars, 
ten  cents  is  a  lot  of  money.  (Continued  on  page  80) 


W 


ff:&*%2 


New  home,  new  car.  new  job — the  key  to  a  brand  new 
life.  It's  no  wonder  the  Georges  wander  around  in  a 
lovely  daze,  patting  things  and  beaming  at  each  other! 


I 

■ 

25 


There's  Jane  on  the  air  .  .  .  and 


there's  Jane  at  home.    It  takes  a 


very  perceptive  husband  to  draw 
the  line  that  separates  these  ladies 


ANE  reads  quite  a  lot.    Reads  novels.    Reads  the 

fashion  magazines.    A  few  whodunits.    But  she  is 

not  interested,  I'm  afraid,  in  the  American  Scene. 

A  little  confused,  let  me  put  it  that  way,  about  politics. 

You  say  to  Jane,  "The  domestic  situation  is  tough." 

"Yes,"  she  agrees.    "Help  is  hard  to  get." 

The  other  evening  some  friends  dropped  by  and 
we  got  to  talking  about  Stalin  and  Molotov.  "Know 
what  I  think?"  Jane  asked  us,  "I  think  they  are — 
Communists!" 

I  am  often  asked  to  describe  the  difference,  if  any, 
between  Jane  Ace  and  Jane  Sherwood — whether,  that 
is,  Jane  at  home  and  Jane  on  the  air  are  "alikes." 

"Do  you,"  an  acquaintance  recently  inquired  of  me, 
"play  straight  man  to  Jane  at  home?" 

No.  No,  I  do  not.  Away  from  the  mike,  I  am  not 
a  straight  man.  There  is  no  need  for  me  to  be  since 
Jane  is  not  a  comedienne  off  stage.  She  doesn't  try 
to  be  funny.  She  hates  funny  women  who  tell  jokes. 
She  doesn't  gab  all  the  time,  although  she  does,  now 
and  again,  give  you  all  the  details.  Nor  do  I  try  to  be 
witty  with  her.   She  knows  all  the  answers. 

The  way  it  is  with  Jane  Ace  (as  with  Jane  Sher- 
wood) she  doesn't  listen  very  closely  to  what's  going 
on.  What  she  does  get  of  what's  going  on,  her  mind  is 
ahead  of  you.  You  run  into  Jane  Ace  downtown  and 
"What  are  you  doing  downtown?"  you  ask.  The  an- 
swer is  "Just  fine!"  Or  you  say  to  Jane  Ace,  "That's  a 
lovely  dress  you're  wearing,"  and  she  says,  "You  do!" 

Income  tax  baffles  her.  Completely.  Come  the  Ides 
of  last  March  and  our  income  tax  was,  according  to 
Jane,  too  high — she  really  believed  the  auditor  was 
splitting  it  with  the  Government.  "The  auditor  couldn't 
be  doing  all  this,"  she  said,  "and  getting  nothing  but 
$500  for  it!" 

And  bills.  Our  bills,  Jane  laments,  are  something 
made  up  by  a  writer  for  the  pulps.  All  the  bills  that 
come  in — "our"  bills — I  suggest  to  her,  are  from 
Milgrim,  Bergdorf,  Saks-Fifth  Avenue,  coiffeurs.  To 
which  she  replies,  "Well,  never  mind.  .  ." 

But  this  doesn't  make  Jane  any  different  from,  let's 
face  it,  other  women.  Almost  every  man  I  run  into 
says  of  Jane  (on  the  air),  "My  wife  is  just  like  that." 


3i\  (joodi 


[man 

as   told   to   Gladys   Hall 


/W 


Unless  you  find  a  very  erudite  woman,  a  writer,  per- 
haps, or  a  female  doctor  or  lawyer,  women  are  like 
that;  are  like  Jane  Sherwood.  So,  no  less  and  not  so 
very  much  more,  is  Jane  Ace. 

It  was  accidental,  pur  going  on  the  air.  That  is,  it 
was  accidental  that  Jane  went  on  the  air. 

To  begin  at  the  beguine,  as  Jane  would  put  it,  I  was 
born  in  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  on  January  15,  1900.  Jane 
was  also  born  in  Kansas  City,  Mo.,  on — well,  even  her 
CBS  biography  leaves  this  blank.  "To  mention  a 
lady's  age,"  Jane  would  be  sure  to  say,  "I  think  it's 
abdominal!" 

My  first  job  was  with  the  old  Kansas  City  Journal- 
Post.  I  wrote  a  comedy  column  every  day.  I  was  the 
motion  picture  critic.  I  wrote  dramatic  criticism — and 
anything  else  they  had  around  the  place. 

I  stayed  with  it  for  twelve  years  before  breaking 
into  radio — meanwhile  marrying  Jane,  who  had  been 
my  girl-friend  through  grade  (Continued  on  page  77) 


Mr 


^ '■■   ""I  lane  ;,,-.■  beard  Fridaj   nisht« 


;"  8  id r. |IS. 


26 


The    value    of    radio?    Entertainment 


is   one   answer,   education    another.     And    Father 


Patrick  Peyton  can  prove  that  there's  a  third 


FAMILY 


Charles  Boyer  and  Ethel  Barrymore  are  two  of  the  busy 
stars    who   make   time    to    cooperate   with    Father   Peyton. 


A   YOUNG     Irish- born     priest     cherished     a 
memory,  a  dream,  and  a  faith. 

And    through   the   radio    program    these 
inspired,  he  has  proved  that  miracles — even  in 
this  materialistic   age  of  ours — can  happen   in 
I)  V  men's  hearts.    They   are  miracles  wrought  by 

family  prayer,  the  cause  to  which  The  Family 
Theater,  presenting  first-rate  drama  with  star- 
studded  casts,  is  dedicated. 
R  0  B  B  I  N  '^ne  ProSram  nas  received  thousands  of  let- 

ters attesting  that  the  memory,  the  dream,  the 
faith   are   bearing   fruit.    The   Family   Theater, 
combining   prime   entertainment  with   spiritual 
COONS  values  and  omitting  preachments,  is  helping  to 

restore    prayer    as    a    vital    force    in    listeners' 
homes  and  lives. 

Father  Patrick  Peyton,  C.  S.  C,  remembered 
his  old  home  in  Ireland,  where  family  prayer 
was  "as  normal  as  suppertime"  and  shed  its 
beneficent  glow  on  his  growing-up. 

He  dreamed  of  reaching  millions  with  the 
message  of  the  power  of  prayer — prayer  which 


is  not  merely  a  Sunday  thing  for  inside  churches 
but  also  an  every-day  habit  inside  the  heart  and 
home,  as  much  a  part  of  daily  life  as  eating, 
sleeping,  working. 

He  believed,  with  a  sublime  faith  strength- 
ened by  his  own  experience,  that  such  prayer 
could  lighten  human  burdens,  uplift  men's 
hearts,  save  tottering  homes,  forestall  adult  as 
well  as  juvenile  delinquency. 

And  so,  through  his  efforts,  was  born  The 
Family  Theater,  heard  over  Mutual  on  Thurs- 
days at  10  P.M.  (EDT). 

This,  then,  is  the  inspiring  story  of  Father  Pat 
and  his"  phenomenally  successful  program 
which,  unsponsored  and  non-commercial,  com- 
mands the  services  of  Hollywood's  greatest  stars 
to  sell  a  spiritual  commodity,  the  power  of 
prayer. 

As  virtually  anyone  who's  tried  can  tell  you, 
it  is  essential  to  know  the  ropes  if  you  would 
make  your  place  in  radio.  The  beginner's  path 
is  strewn  with,  thorns,  nails,  ground  glass  and 


28 


It  couldn't  be  done, 
till  Father  Peyton 
did  it:  stars  whose 
time  is  measured  in 
gold  give  it,  for 
nothing,  to  the  dra- 
matic productions  of 
Father  Peyton's  Fam- 
ily Theater.  Mutual 
contributes  the  time — 
Thurs.,  10  P.M.  EDT. 


it  PRAYS  TO  G 


carloads  of  hard  commercial  facts,  and  heartless 
hucksters  he  in  ambush  at  every  turn. 

You  wish,  for  instance,  to  persuade  Bing 
Crosby  to  take  the  air  for  you.  You've  half  lost 
already.  Bing's  a  busy  fellow.  He  has  movies 
to  think  about,  and  his  own  radio  show,  and 
benefits,  and  his  ranch,  and  his  family.  "Oh, 
you  couldn't  possibly  get  Bing,"  you'll  be  as- 
sured. 

Father  Pat  in  his  zeal  didn't  think  about  all 
this.  He  is  a  huge  broth  of  a  man,  six  feet  four, 
207  pounds,  now  aged  forty  years,  sandy-haired, 
pink-faced,  and  by  some  accounts  naive. 

To  begin  near  the  beginning,  one  day  in  1945 
Bing  Crosby  took  a  telephone  call  from  New 
York. 

"Bing,"  said  the  voice,  "I'm  a  Catholic  priest 
from  Albany  and  I  want  you  to  do  something  for 
Our  Lady." 

"Certainly,  Father,"  said  Bing. 

And  on  Mother's  Day  that  year,  at  7  A.  M., 
Bing    Crosby    went    (Continued    on    page  86) 


The    value    of    radio?    Entertainment 

is    one    answer,    education    another.     And    Father 

Patrick  Peyton  can  prove  that  there's  a  third 


It  couldn't  be  done, 
t  ill  Father  Peyton 
did  it:  iters  whose 
time    n   measured    in 

gold  |ive  it.  for 
nothing,  to  the  dra- 
matic production)  ••! 
Father  Peyton*!  liiin- 
iK  Theater.  Mutual 
contributes  the  tune 
Tours.,  10  p.m.  i  mi 


Charles  Boycr  and  Ethel  Burrymore  are  two  of  the  busy 
Itorfl   who   make   lime   to   cooperate   with   Father  Peyton. 


A   YOUNG     Irish-born     priest     cherished     a 
memory,  a  dream,  and  a  faith. 

And    through    the   radio    program    these 
inspired,  he  has  proved  that  miracles — even  in 
this   materialistic  age  of  ours — can  happen   in 
I)  V  men's  hearts.    They   are  miracles  wrought  by 

family  prayer,  the  cause  to  which  The  Family 
Theater,  presenting  first-rate  drama  with  star- 
studded  casts,  is  dedicated. 
R  0  B  B  I  N  *^ne  P1"0^1"301  nas  received  thousands  of  let- 

ters attesting  that  the  memory,  the  dream,  the 
faith   are   bearing   fruit.    The   Family  Theater, 
combining   prime  entertainment  with  spiritual 
COONS  values  and  omitting  preachments,  is  helping  to 

restore    prayer   as   a   vital   force    in    listeners' 
homes  and  lives. 

Father  Patrick  Peyton,  C.  S.  C,  remembered 
his  old  home  in  Ireland,  where  family  prayer 
was  "as  normal  as  suppertime"  and  shed  its 
beneficent  glow  on  his  growing-up. 

He  dreamed  of  reaching  millions  with  the 
message  of  the  power  of  prayer — prayer  which 


FAMILY 


is  not  merely  a  Sunday  thing  for  inside  churches 
but  also  an  every-day  habit  inside  the  heart  and 
home,  as  much  a  part  of  daily  life  as  eating, 
sleeping,  working. 

He  believed,  with  a  sublime  faith  strength- 
ened by  his  own  experience,  that  such  prayer 
could  lighten  human  burdens,  uplift  men's 
hearts,  save  tottering  homes,  forestall  adult  as 
well  as  juvenile  delinquency. 

And  so,  through  his  efforts,  was  bom  The 
Family  Theater,  heard  over  Mutual  on  Thurs- 
days at  10  P.M.  (EDT). 

This,  then,  is  the  inspiring  story  of  Father  Pat 
and  his'  phenomenally  successful  program 
which,  unsponsored  and  non-commercial,  com- 
mands the  services  of  Hollywood's  greatest  stars 
to  sell  a  spiritual  commodity,  the  power  of 
prayer. 

As  virtually  anyone  who's  tried  can  tell  you. 
it  is  essential  to  know  the  ropes  if  you  would 
make  your  place  in  radio.  The  beginner's  paft 
is  strewn  with  thorns,  nails,  ground  glass  and 


PRAYS  TOGETHER 


carloads  of  hard  commercial  facts,  and  heartless 
hucksters  lie  in  ambush  at  every  turn. 

You  wish,  for  instance,  to  persuade  Bing 
Crosby  to  take  the  air  for  you.  You've  half  lost 
already.  Bing's  a  busy  fellow.  He  has  movies 
to  think  about,  and  his  own  radio  show,  and 
benefits,  and  his  ranch,  and  his  family.  "Oh, 
you  couldn't  possibly  get  Bing,"  you'll  be  as- 
sured. 

Father  Pat  in  his  zeal  didn't  think  about  all 
this.  He  is  a  huge  broth  of  a  man,  six  feet  four, 
207  pounds,  now  aged  forty  years,  sandy-haired, 
pink-faced,  and  by  some  accounts  naive. 

To  begin  near  the  beginning,  one  day  in  1945 
Bing  Crosby  took  a  telephone  call  from  New 
York. 

"Bing,"  said  the  voice,  "I'm  a  Catholic  priest 
from  Albany  and  I  want  you  to  do  something  for 
Our  Lady." 

"Certainly,  Father."  said  Bing. 

And  on  Mother's  Day  that  year,  at  7  A.  M., 
Bins   Crosby   went    (Continued   on    page  86) 


THERE  was  a  time  when  native  Califor- 
nians  believed  that  no  one  but  the  most 
frugal  (and  probably  demented  to  boot) 
truck  farmers  would  ever  try  to  eke  out  a 
living  in  that  flat,  hot,  very  dusty  part  of  the 
world  known  as  the  San  Fernando  Valley. 
If  you  had  to  go  to  San  Fernando,  you  fig- 
ured that  Dante,  who  seemed  to  be  a  fellow 
who  knew  his  way  around  the  Inferno,  ought 
to  go  hand  in  hand  with  you. 

Then,   a   few   years   ago,   something   hap- 
pened.   All  of  a  sudden  you  couldn't  buy  a 


John    Scott    Trotter    says    he    wants    to    sell 
his    ranch.    But    suppose    he    gets    an    offer? 


r**» 


I 


...  w 


m 


_ 


rrrr 


Jack  Carson  (above)  and  Fibber  McGee 
and  Molly  (Jim  and  Marian  Jordan)  are 
all  Valley  dwellers.  The  Jordans  are 
a  touch  unusual,  though — Jim  is  light 
on    animals,    heavier    on    his    gardening. 


' 


Radio    announcer    Wendell    Niles    has    exchanged 
his   animal,   a   horse,  for  -a   new   swimming   pool. 


postage  stamp  with  a  tree  on  it  for  under  ten 
thousand  dollars  in  what  had  mysteriously, 
over  night,  become  "the  ultra  smart  San 
Fernando  Valley."  If  gold  had  been  dis- 
covered, there  couldn't  have  been  a  greater 
rush,  and  sixteen-cylinder  conestoga  wagons 
whizzed  madly  up  and  down  Cahuenga  Pass, 
which  connects  Hollywood  and  the  Valley, 
by  day  and  by  night.  The  big  land  grab 
was  on. 

There    is    a    certain    wondrous    madness, 
politely  labeled  eccentricity,  common  to  all 


• 


f>r 


-J^W»»»i  ii  - 


I 


John    Scoll    Trotler    says    he    wants    lo    seli 
his    ranch.    Bui    suppose    he    gels    an    offer? 


THERE  was  a  time  when  native  Califor- 
nians  believed  that  no  one  but  the  most 
frugal  (and  probably  demented  to  boot) 
truck  fanners  would  ever  try  to  eke  out  a 
living  in  that  flat,  hot,  very  dusty  part  of  the 
world  known  as  the  San  Fernando  Valley 
If  you  had  to  go  to  San  Fernando,  you  fig- 
ured that  Dante,  who  seemed  to  be  a  fellow 
who  knew  his  way  around  the  Inferno,  ought 
to  go  hand  in  hand  with  you. 

Then,  a  few  years   ago,  something  hap- 
pened.  All  of  a  sudden  you  couldn't  buy  a 


Radio  announcer  Wendell  Niles  has  exchanged 
his   animal,  a   horse,  for  o   new   swimming   pool. 

postage  stamp  with  a  tree  on  it  for  under  ten 
thousand  dollars  in  what  had  mysteriously, 
over  night,  become  "the  ultra  smart  San 
Fernando  Valley."  If  gold  had  been  dis- 
covered, there  couldn't  have  been  a  greater 
rush,  and  sixteen-cylinder  conestoga  wagons 
whizzed  madly  up  and  down  Cahuenga  Pass, 
which  connects  Hollywood  and  the  Valley, 
by  day  and  by  night.  The  big  land  grab 
was  on. 

There    is    a    certain    wondrous    madness, 
politely  labeled  eccentricity,  common  to  all 


390-acre  Melody  Ranch  bears  the  Wild  West  motif 
inside   and   out.  It's   Mr.   and   Mrs.   Gene   Autry's. 


From  Jack  Carson's  land  there's  a  good  view 


John  Scott  Trotter  found 

himself    22    acres    of    fruits. 

nuts,  and   lots  of  lawn. 


valley  dwellers.  Remember  the  old  t.ong  that  went  Oh, 
they  keep  the  pig  in  the  parlor,  they  keep  the  pig  in  the 
parlor?  At  the  present  writing  there  are  no  pigs  in  the 
parlors  (no  parlors,  either,  in  grandma's  sense  of  the 
word)  but  Gene  Autry's  horse  does  live  in  the  Autry 
house,  Dinah  Shore  hides  a  banty  rooster  in  the  living 
room,  Penny  Singleton  gives  shelter  to  a  pair  of  rabbits 
in  her  private  sitting  room — all  in  the  now -fabulous 
acreage  known  simply  as  "The  Valley"  to  the  initiated. 
Lionel  Barrymore,  who  started  the  trek  and  became 
the  first  of  the  famous  to  dwell  in  the  Valley,  maintains 
testily  that  the  most  expensive  and  eccentric  farming 
ever  done  was  by  two  elderly  ladies  who  kept  a  pair 
of  cows  on  34th  Street,  New  York  City,  while  the 
metropolis  (and  the  taxes)  mounted  round  them.  These 
ladies,  however,  have  long  since  gone  to  graze  their 
cattle  in  a  happier  land,  leaving  the  Valley  dwellers  in 


sole  possession  of  a  privilege  which  may  or  may  not 
be  desirable — to  farm  as  farming  is  known  nowhere  else 
on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

To  begin  with,  the  Valley  comprises  some  two  hun- 
dred and  twelve  square  miles  of  rich,  sun-drenched  land 
to  the  north  of  Los  Angeles.  It  nestles  between  the 
Coast  Range  on  one  side  and  the  majestic,  snow- 
capped Sierra  Nevadas  on  the  other.  It  is  reached 
through  Cahuenga  Pass,  or  one  of  several  other  winding 
passes  through  the  Coast  Range — Cold  Water  Canyon, 
or  Laurel  Canyon.  The  would-be  farmer  can  make  up 
his  own  mind  how  far  from  Hollywood  his  acres  are  to 
be".  The  communities,  which  are  really  little  more  than 
shopping  centers  boasting  a  branch  of  the  Los  Angeles 
City  Hall,  string  themselves  along  Route  99  on  the 
road  to  San  Francisco.  Van  Nuys,  Tarzana,  Sherman 
Oaks,  Canoga  Park,  Chatsworth  and  the  rest — but  to 


32 


Lassie   bought   trainer 
Rudd    Weatherwax    a    nice 
big   piece   of   the   Valley. 


the  natives  it's  all  The  Valley,  where  the  amateur  has 
gone  back  to  the  land  and  the  farmer  has  gone  quietly 
crazy. 

The  people  who  live  there  are  a  hardy  race.  They 
work  themselves  thin  making  movies  or  broadcasting 
coast  to  coast  for  the  doubtful  joy  of  racing  some  thirty- 
five  to  fifty  miles  home  each  night  to  milk  a  cow  who, 
for  the  price,  ought  to  give  pink  champagne,  or  tend 
a  flock  of  chickens  that  should  lay  golden  eggs — and 
don't. 

Take  the  case  of  Gale  Page.  She  confided  to  Bill 
Bendix,  who's  been  a  Valley  dweller  for  a  couple  of 
years,  that  she  wanted  to  buy  a  ranch.  "Then  you'd 
better  grab  off  a  radio  show  to  support  it,"  said  farm- 
wise  Bill.  Gale  bought  the  ranch — and  accepted  a  radio 
offer  -when  the  feed  bills  began  rolling  in. 

Then  there's  Lassie,,  that  hard-working  collie  farmer. 


For  him  to  return  to  the  soil  where  his  forefathers 
undoubtedly  herded  sheep,  he  has  to  supplement  his 
weekly  ABC  program  with  all  the  movies  he  can  lay 
paws  on.  This  provides  him  with  a  cow  and  with 
chickens  "which  produce  about  two  dozen  eggs  a  day 
at  approximately  five  dollars  the  dozen.  Of  course  it 
also  enables  him  to  take  the  air  on  his  own  private 
prairie,  away  from  the  hustle  and  noise  of  the  city,  and 
to  entertain  as  non-paying  guests  some  twenty-four 
canine  friends,  assorted  ducks,  pigeons,  horses,  and  his 
favorite  white  cat.  According  to  owner-trainer  Rudd 
Weatherwax,  who  works  the  ranch,  Lassie  is  entitled 
to  his  fair  share  of  the  good  things  of  this  world.  Just 
the  same,  it's  the  most  expensive  Noah's  Ark  on  record! 
Jovial  Tom  Breneman,  a  Valley  resident  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  was  a  chicken-raiser,  as  a  man  with  break- 
fast on  his  mind  might  well  be.  {Continued  on  page  84) 


33 


valley  dwellers.  Remember  the  old  ^ong  that  went  Oh, 
they  keep  the  pig  in  the  parlor,  they  keep  the  pig  in  the 
parlor?  At  the  present  writing  there  are  no  pigs  in  the 
parlors  (no  parlors,  either,  in  grandma's  sense  of  the 
word)  but  Gene  Autry's  horse  does  live  in  the  Autry 
house,  Dinah  Shore  hides  a  banty  rooster  in  the  living 
room,  Penny  Singleton  gives  shelter  to  a  pair  of  rabbits 
in  her  private  sitting  room — all  in  the  now-fabulous 
acreage  known  simply  as  "The  Valley"  to  the  initiated. 
Lionel  Barrymore,  who  started  the  trek  and  became 
the  first  of  the  famous  to  dwell  in  the  Valley,  maintains 
testily  that  the  most  expensive  and  eccentric  farming 
ever  done  was  by  two  elderly  ladies  who  kept  a  pair 
of  cows  on  34th  Street,  New  York  City,  while  the 
metropolis  (and  the  taxes)  mounted  round  them.  These 
ladies,  however,  have  long  since  gone  to  graze  their 
cattle  in  a  happier  land,  leaving  the  Valley  dwellers  in 


sole  possession  of  a  privilege  which  may  or  may  not 
be  desirable — to  farm  as  farming  is  known  nowhere  else 
on  the  face  of  the  earth. 

To  begin  with,  the  Valley  comprises  some  two  hun- 
dred and  twelve  square  miles  of  rich,  sun-drenched  land 
to  the  north  of  Los  Angeles.  It  nestles  between  the 
Coast  Range  on  one  side  and  the  majestic,  snow- 
capped Sierra  Nevadas  on  the  other.  It  is  reached 
through  Cahuenga  Pass,  or  one  of  several  other  winding 
passes  through  the  Coast  Range— Cold  Water  Canyon, 
or  Laurel  Canyon.  The  would-be  farmer  can  make  up 
his  own  mind  how  far  from  Hollywood  his  acres  are  to 
be:  The  communities,  which  are  really  little  more  than 
shopping  centers  boasting  a  branch  of  the  Los  Angeles 
City  Hall,  string  themselves  along  Route  99  on  the 
road  to  San  Francisco.  Van  Nuys,  Tarzana,  Sherman 
Oaks,  Canoga  Park,  Chatsworth  and  the  rest— but  to 


( 


the  natives  it's  all  The  Valley,  where  the  amateur  has 
gone  back  to  the  land  and  the  farmer  has  gone  quietly 
crazy. 

The  people  who  live  there  are  a  hardy  race.  They 
work  themselves  thin  making  movies  or  broadcasting 
coast  to  coast  for  the  doubtful  joy  of  racing  some  thirty- 
five  to  fifty  miles  home  each  night  to  milk  a  cow  who, 
for  the  price,  ought  to  give  pink  champagne,  or  tend 
a  nock  of  chickens  that  should  lay  golden  eggs — and 
don't. 

Take  the  case  of  Gale  Page.  She  confided  to  Bill 
Bendix,  who's  been  a  Valley  dweller  for  a  couple  of 
years,  that  she  wanted  to  buy  a  ranch.  "Then  you'd 
better  grab  off  a  radio  show  to  support  it,"  said  farm- 
wse  Bill.  Gale  bought  the  ranch — and  accepted  a  radio 
offer  when  the  feed  bills  began  rolling  in. 

Then  there's  Lassie,,  that  hard-working  collie  farmer. 


For  him  to  return  to  the  soil  where  his  forefathers 
undoubtedly  herded  sheep,  he  has  to  supplement  his 
weekly  ABC  program  with  all  the  movies  he  can  lay 
paws  on.  This  provides  him  with  a  cow  and  with 
chickens  which  produce  about  two  dozen  eggs  a  day 
at  approximately  five  dollars  the  dozen.  Of  course  it 
also  enables  him  to  take  the  air  on  his  own  private 
prairie,  away  from  the  hustle  and  noise  of  the  city,  and 
to  entertain  as  non-paying  guests  some  twenty-four 
canine  friends,  assorted  ducks,  pigeons,  horses,  and  his 
favorite  white  cat.  According  to  owner-trainer  Rudd 
Weatherwax,  who  works  the  ranch,  Lassie  is  entitled 
to  his  fair  share  of  the  good  things  of  this  world.  Just 
the  same,  it's  the  most  expensive  Noah's  Ark  on  record! 
Jovial  Tom  Breneman,  a  Valley  resident  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  was  a  chicken -raiser,  as  a  man  with  break- 
fast on  his  mind  might  well  be.  (Continued  on  page  84) 


JOYCE  JORDAN.  M.D. 


P 


M 


dii" 


m 


*  •  -  j  a  <  I y  i 


* 


MRS.  IRIS  BLAKELEY  is  wealthy,  socially  powerful,  devoted  to  her  attractive  son  DAWSON.  She  bitterly 
resents  the  love  between  Dawson  and  Joyce,  but  knows  she  is  indebted  to  Joyce's  skill  as  a  surgeon  for 
Dawson's  being  able  to  walk.  A  recent  plane  crash  had  crippled  Dawson,  and  there  seemed  no  hope  for  him. 
until  Joyce  performed  her  magnificent  operation.    (Mrs.  Blakely   is  Elizabeth  Watts;  Dawson  is  Les  Tremayne) 


JOYCE  JORDAN'S  brilliant  career  as 
a  surgeon  has  not  prevented  her  from 
developing  into  a  desirable,  vital  woman. 
She  came  to  New  York  recently  from 
Centerfield,  and  built  up  a  private 
practice.  Joyce  made  both  her  office 
and  her  home  in  one  of  the  city's 
old,  quiet  brownstone  neighborhoods. 
(Played  by  Gertrude  Warner) 


Joyce  Jordan,  M.D.,  is  heard  Man. 
through  Fri.  at  10:45  A.M.  EDT,  NBC. 


ERNEST  EDEN  is  Joyce's  14-year-old  foster  son, 
child  of  a  man  who  loved  Joyce,  and  who  died 
in  China.  Ernest  and  the  friendly,  warm-hearted 
maid  Celia  are  now  the  whole  of  Joyce's  family. 

(Ernest  is  played  by  Larry  Robinson; 

Celia  is  played  by  Amanda  Randolph) 


35 


^ 


JOYCE  J 0 RDM,  M. D.  ^ &  s/Ly  /& 


DIANE  OGDEN,  wife  of  Centerfield  minister  Rev.  Gregory 
Ogden,  was  sincerely  anxious  to  be  a  credit  to  her  husband. 
But  fun-loving,  clothes-conscious  Diane  was  not  the  town's  idea 
of  a  proper  clergyman's  wife,  and  she  was  too  inexperienced  to 
handle  the  suspicious  dislike  of  her  critics.  Lonely,  discouraged, 
Diane  was  delighted  to  see  her  cousin  Edgar  Jarvis,  who  paid 
an  unexpected  visit  to  Centerfield  one  day  when  Gregory  hap- 
pened to  be  out  of  town.  When  Diane  said  goodbye  to  Edgar 
at  the  airport,  she  felt  for  the  first  time  in  months  that  she  was 
not  completely  friendless.  But  talkative  Leah  Bartel,  who  wit- 
nessed the  leave-taking,  knew  only  that  she  had  seen  the  min- 


ister's wife  kissing  a  handsome  young  man.  She  lost  no  time  in 
spreading  the  news  around.  The  town  heard  Leah's  description 
with  satisfied  nods.  Speculation  pressed  so  hard  against  the 
private  lives  of  the  Ogdens  that  Gregory  felt  it  was  hopeless  to 
go  on.  He  prepared  to  resign  his  Centerfield  parish,  leave  town 
forever.  But  Diane  was  no  weakling.  All  at  once  her  native 
courage  and  sense  of  fair  play  asserted  themselves.  She  spoke 
to  Leah  Bartel,  making  a  plea  for  herself  that  was  at  the  same 
time  an  attack  on  Centerfield  narrowness.  Somehow  she  found 
words  to  explain  how  her  youth  and  inexperience  had  created  a 
false  impression — and  how  the  town  had  failed  in  tolerance. 


36 


zs4tvn& 


'btew-h    Mile 


So  Gregory  was  spared  heart- 
break— he  kept  his  church.  With 
Leah's  attitude  so  changed  that 
she  became  a  close  friend,  Diane 
was  able  to  make  other  friends 
in  Centerfield,  and  the  Ogdens 
took  their  place  as  leading,  re- 
spected members  of  the  commu- 
nity. To  add  to  their  happiness, 
one  day  Dr.  Joyce  Jordan  deliv- 
ered Diane  of  a  baby  son.  (Greg- 
ory Ogden  is  played  by  Boyd 
Crawford ;  Diane  Ogden  is  played 
by  Virginia  Dwyer;  Edgar  Jarvis 
is  James  Monks;  Leah  Bartel  is 
Ida  Heinemann.) 


BARGAIN 

It  was  a  timid  lad  who  came  to 

sell 
A  pail  of  string  beans  at  my 

kitchen  door. 
I  do  no  canning,  but  I  bought 

the  beans, 
And  said:  "How  nice;  do  give 

me  two  pails  more!"     - 

I  knew  that  they  were  stringy, 

•    tough,  and  scorched 

By  the  drought-sun  that  flames 

the  Ozark  skies — 
And  now.  I  sit  and  stare  at  all 

the  beans 
I  bought,  to  see  success  in  a 

child's,  eyes. 

■ — Rosa  Zagnoni  Marinoni 


WHEN  YOU  HAVE  NO  CHOICE 

Why  must  you  be  so  pitiless  O  heart 
That  has  so  pitifully  brief  an  hour 
To  beat,  to  ease  this  raw  and  bitter 

smart, 
To  lean  austerely  from  your  narrow 

tower 
And    comfort   the    lost   wanderer? 

Share  now 
Your  fire;  take  that  chilled  hand  in 

your  own 
And  let  love  place  his  kiss  upon 

your  brow. 
This  life  is  so  precarious  a  loan. 

Soon,  soon  you  will  lie  still  in  end- 
less night, 

Forever  undisturbed  by  my  despair 

Although   I    beat  your   gate   with 
reckless  might 

And    cry   your    name   on   the   un- 
answering  air. 

You  will  be  deaf  to  the  most  vibrant 
voice, 

Cold    and    unmoving— when    you 
have  no  choice. 

— Ethel  Jacobson 


Verses  to  stir  the  surface  of  your  mind  as  gently  as  a  sumrue 


//// 


STUDIES    IN    GEOMETRY 

When  I  was  small — 

Oh,  five  or  four — 
My  world  was  a  circle, 

Nothing  more. 
I,  standing  at  center, 

Could  not  sense 
Beyond  the  bright 

Circumference ; 
All  things  were  good 

But '  in  degree 
As  they  brought  happiness 

To  me. 

I've  seen  the  small 

Bright  circle  change 
To  geometric 

Figures,  strange 
And  awesome; 

I  have  found  my  place 
At  apex,  corner, 

Or  at  base. 

Today  I  cannot 

Quite  define 
The  shape  of  world 

I  now  call,  mine; 
And  as  for  my 

Location  in  it, 
That  shifts  about 

With  every  minute  .  .  . 
At  last  I  count  it 

Very  grand 
When  I  find  any 

Place  to  stand!        , 

— B.  Y.  Williams 


^       *&  & 
*_  * 


PRAYER  FOR  ANY  WIFE 


Lord,  let  my  golden  store 

'Of  laughter,  as  I  pour 

■«b- 

It  from  its  pitcher,  be 

Replenished,  so  that  he 

F 

May  always  have  it  when 

He  wishes  it — for  men 

■^^ 

Need  it  from  women's  lips. 
And  if  the  pitcher  tips 

-^ 

fi 

With  difficulty  now 

*  / * 

And  then.  Lord,  show  me  how. 
In  the  face  of  fear  or  doubt, 
To  get  good  laughter  out. 

— Elaine  V.  Emans ' 

By  TED  MALONE 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  morning  program, 
Monday  through  Friday 
at    11:45    EDT,   over   ABC. 


LAST  LAP 

"How  you  have  grown,  my  son!    I  swan. 

When  you  were  just  a  little  chap 
You  often  liked  to  sit  upon 
My  lap!" 

"You,  too,  have  grown  since  days  remote, 

For,  Dad,  the  lap  I  sat  upon 
When  just  a  little  chap,  I  note 
Is  gone!" 

—Addison  H.  Hallock 


*S*K 


EXOTIC 

I've  tried  so  many  heavenly  scents, 
But  alas  for  my  noble  experiments! 
Comes  romantic  dusk,  my  husband  prefers 
The  fragrance  of  onions  and  hamburgers! 
— May  Richstone 


RADIO  MIRROR  will  pay  fifty  dollars 

for  the  original  poem,  sent  in  by  a  reader,  selected  by  Ted  Malone 
as  the  best  of  that  month's  poems  submitted  by  readers.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  submitted  and  printed 
on  the  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Address  your 
poetry  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Poetry  submitted  should  be  limited  to  thirty  lines. 
When  postage  is  enclosed  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  un- 
used manuscripts.  This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase 
poetry  for  Radio  Mirror's  Between  the  Bookends. 


$    «S*fc 


V 


//// 


/  / 


!H>    *-.■'•«' 


I 


■fHi 


~-_  * 


LOST  SON 

Radio  Miirpr's  Prize  Poem 

Never  again  will  his  deft  leet  follow 
The  pasture-pond  that   was  round   and 

shallow. 
Yet  somehow,  strangely,  he  walks  there 

still. 
Swinging  his  lantern — a  ribbon  ol  flame 
Threading  the  dark;  and  I  call  his  name! 
But  only  my  echo  shouts  back  irom  the 

hill. 
Only   grey   silence   drifts    up   from    the 

meadow. 
Yet  still,  I  say,  I  can  see  hiB  shadow. 
Oh,  always  in  spirit  he'll  cross  this  land; 
And  only  a  mother  can  see  him  pass. 
Bending  the  tassels  of  haunted  grass, 
The   years'   light  locked  in  his   young, 

brown  hand! 

— Pauline  Havard 


;      i!i  \TI<:  CALENDAR 

'  How  shall  I  know  that  I'm  growing  old 
If  lime  loaves  no  tell-tale  trace? 
If  no  silver  gleqmi  in  my  dusky  hair 
And  no  furrows  indent  my  face? 
I  shall  know  at  last  that  I'm  growing 

old. 
Though  no  record  of  years  I  keep: 
When  I  weep  at  things  that  once  made 

me  smile 
And  smile  of  what  made  me  weep. 
— Anastasla  Thomas 


BARGAIN 

It  was  a  timid  lad  who  came  to 

sell 
A  pail  of  string  beans  at  my 

kitchen  door. 
I  do  no  canning,  but  I  bought 

the  beans, 
And  said:  "How  nice;  do  give 

me  two  pails  more!" 

I  knew  that  they  were  stringy, 

.    tough,  and  scorched 

By  the  drought-sun  that  flames 

the  Ozark  skies — 
And  now.  I  sit  and  stare  at  all 

the  beans 
I  bought,  to  see  success  in  a 

child's,  eyes. 

■ — Rosa  Zagnooi  Marinoni 


WHEN   YOU  HAVE  NO  CHOll  I 

Why  must  you  be  so  pitiless  O  heart 
That  has  so  pitifully  brief  an  hour 
To  beat,  to  ease  this  raw  and  bitter 

smart, 
To  lean  austerely  from  your  narrow 

tower 
And    comfort   the    lost    wanderer? 

Share  now 
Your  fire;  take  that  chilled  hand  in 

your  own 
And  let  love  place  his  kiss  upon 

your  brow. 
This  life  is  so  precarious  a  loan. 

Soon,  soon  you  will  lie  still  in  end- 
less night, 

Forever  undisturbed  by  my  despair 

Although  I  beat  your  gate  with 
reckless  might 

And   cry   your   name   on   the   un- 


voice, 
Cold    and     unmoving — when    you 
have  no  choice. 

— Ethel  Jacobson 


'i?me?isM 


STUDIES    IN    GEOMETRY 

When  I  was  small — 

Oh,  five  or  four — 
My  world  was  a  circle, 

Nothing  more. 
I,  standing  at  center, 

Could  not  sense 
Beyond  the  bright 

Circumference; 
All  things  were  good 

But  in  degree 
As  they  brought  happiness 

To  me. 

I've  seen  the  small 

Bright  circle  change 
To  geometric 

Figures,  strange 
And  awesome; 

I  have  found  my  place 
At  apex,  corner, 

Or  at  base. 

Today  I  cannot 

Quite  define 
The  shape  of  world 

I  now  call. mine; 
And  as  for  my 

Location  in  it, 
That  shifts  about 

With  every  minute  .  .  . 
At  last  I  count  it 

Very  grand 
When  I  find  any 

Place  to  stand!        , 

— B.  Y.  Williams 


EXOTIC 

I've  tried  so  many  heavenly  scents. 
But  alas  for  my  noble  experiments! 
Comes  romantic  dusk,  my  husband  prefer 
The  fragrance  of  onions  and  hamburgers 
— May  Richstone 


*»*     *-»tw 


PRAYER  FOR    \m    WIFE 


Lord,  let  my  golden  store 

R             N 

Of  laughter,  as  I  pour 

L*     ~ 

It  from  its  pitcher,  be 

^£< 

Replenished,  so  that  he 

F^ 

May  always  have  it  when 

He  wishes  it — for  men 

~^*A 

Need  it  from  women's  lips. 

^ 

And  if  the  pitcher  tips 

With  difficulty  now 

y^\j  i 

And  then.  Lord,  show  me  how. 

In  the  face  of  fear  or  doubt. 

To  get  good  laughter  out. 

— Elaine  V.  EmanF 

By  TED  MALONE 


Be  sore  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  morning  program, 
Mondar  through  Friday 
at    11:45    EDT,   over   ABC. 


LAST   LAP 

"Hew  you  have  grown/  my  son!    I  iwon. 

When  you  were  just  a  little  chap 
You  often  liked  to  tit  upon 

My  lop!" 
"You,  too,  have  grown  since  days remote. 

For,  Dad,  the  lap  I  tat  upon 
When  just  a  little  chap,  I  note 
Is  gone!" 

— Additon  H.  Hallock 


RADIO  MIRROR  will' pay  fifty  dollars 

for  the  original  poem,  sent  in  by  a  reader,  selected  by  Ted  Malone 
as  the  best  of  that  month's  poems  submitted  by  readers.  Five  dollars 
will  he  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  submitted  and  printed 
on  the  Between  the  Bookends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Address  your 
poetry  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  East  42nd  Street,  New 
York  17,  N.  Y.  Poetry  submitted  should  be  limited  to  thirty  lines. 
When  postage  is  enclosed  every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  un- 
used manuscripts.  This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase 
poetry  for  Radio  Mirror's  Between  the  Bookends. 


Verses  to  stir  the  surface  «>f  your  mind  M  gently       a  ( 


peez  4  passing  ovemwater 


viv 


n 


$     ** 


1947  Lead  a  Band  winner 

was  17-year-old  Rodney  Andrews,  of 

Dayton,  Ohio.    Hell  invest 

his  prize  in  a  musical  education. 


Sammy's  autograph  is  in  many  copies  of  his  Sunday  Sere* 
nade  Book  of  Poetry — the  book  that  led  to  his  Poetry  Con- 
test, last  won  by  Mrs.  B,  Y,  Williams  (below)  of  Cincinnati, 


LEAD  thBANDl 

"A 


Sammy  Kaye  suspected  that  lots  of  people  would  welcome 


the  chance  to  lead  a  band.    Here's  the  story  of  how  right  he  was 


By  DAVID   0.  ALBER 

Sammy  Kaye' a  Press  Agent 


SAMMY  KAYE  has  been  surprising  me  for  eleven 
years. 

He  surprised  me  with  the  originality  of  his  music 
the  first  time  I  heard  it,  which  was  on  the  radio  and 
from  an  out-of-town  station.  And  he  surprised  me  the 
first  time  I  saw  him  a  year  later. 

His  dreamy,  melodic  style  had  led  me  to  expect  a 
somewhat  romantic  personality.  The  last  thing  I  was 
prepared  for  was  a  tawny-haired,  blue- eyed  young  man, 
slender  but  with  an  athlete's  build.  At  that  time  I  did 
not  know  that  he  had  won  his  letters  at  Ohio  State  Uni- 
versity in  football,  baseball,  basketball  and  track.  In 
fact,  I  did  not  know  anything  about  him  except  that  I 
thought  his  music  was  wonderful  and  that  I  had  picked 
him  for  a  client  a  year  before. 

Now,  what  was  somewhat  more  important,  he  was  at 
last  considering  engaging  me  as  his  press  agent. 
.  I  had  my  fingers  crossed,  hoping  that  our  first  inter- 
view would  go  well  enough  to  lead  to  further  discus- 
sions and  that,  before  long,  I  would  add  him  to  my  list. 


I  had  more  than  just  a  professional  interest  in  his  band. 

I. am  a  band  fan — always  have  been.  It  was  pleasure 
for  me,  as  well  as  business,  to  listen  to  all  of  the  new 
bands  that  were  coming  along. 

I  was  crazy  about  Sammy's  style  from  the  first  time  I 
heard  him.  I  liked  the  distinctive  tricks  he  used.  I  liked 
his  vocalists,  and  I  liked  his  slogan,  "Swing  and  Sway 
with  Sammy  Kaye."  So  I  wrote  to  Jim  Peppe — who  was 
then  Kaye's  manager,  and  is  now  associated  with  Mike 
Nidorf  in  his  management — outlining  what  publicity 
services  my  office  could  offer. 

Nothing  came  of  it,  but  I  ran  around  town  raving 
about  Sammy  Kaye's  band,  anyway,  telling  everybody" 
to  listen  to  him  and  watch  him  become  a  star  before  he 
ever  had  a  play  date  in  New  York — a  thing  that  almost 
never  happens  to  a  band. 

Sammy  gave  me  another  surprise  that  first  morning. 

We  talked  for  twenty  minutes  or  so  about  what  was 
required  in  the  way  of  publicity  for  his  first  New  York 
engagement,  and  I  was  hired!    (Continued  on  page  90) 


41 


If* 


.  wjCXS-;.. 


The  off-the-air  part  of  the  program: 
Rheba  and  Pat  were  married  in  the 
Chapman  Park  Chapel  by  Rev.  Alden  Hill. 


r 


AND 


IN 


Never   mix   business  with   pleasure — 


that's  a  rule.     But  rules,  after  all,   are 


made  to  be  broken.    Especially  by  people  in  love 


By  JOHN  NELSON 


M.C.  ol  Bride  and  Groom,  heard  Monday  through  Friday  at  2:30  EDT 
on  ABC,  tells  this  story  from  the  program's  6les  for  Radio  Mirror. 


42 


WHENEVER  we  are  being  interviewed  about  the  pro- 
gram,  the  interviewer  invariably   gets   around   to 
saying,  "Sure,  it  all  sounds  wonderful.    But  what 
about  after  the  honeymoon?    How  many   Bride  and 
Groom  couples  really  stick  together?" 

Love  that  question!  It  gives  us  another  chance  to  brag 
up  a  set  of  figures  that  we're  really  proud  of — figures 
showing  that  the  divorce  rate  for  Bride  and  Groom 
marriages  is  so  much  lower  than  the  national  rate  as  to 
be  practically  non-existent! 

The  interviewer's  next  question,  of  course,  is  always, 
"How  does  that  happen?  Why  should  your  couples  turn 
out  to  be  more  sincere  than  the  average  couple  when 
they  make  their  vows  about ''.  .  .  till  death  do  us  part?'  " 
We've  asked  ourselves  that  question,  and  we  think 
we've  come  up  with  the  two  most  important  answers. 
First,  and  most  obvious,  is  the  fact  that  our  board  of 
judges  is  mighty  careful  when  it  comes  to  approving  a 
couple's  appearance  on  the  broadcast.  Each  application 
(and  we  receive  several  hundred  a  month)  is  judged 
not  only  for  the  dramatic  and  human  interest  of  the 
couple's  love  story,  but  also  for  the  couple's  attitude 
towards  marriage.  Do  they  realize  that  it's  an  adult  job 
they're  taking  on — and  that  marriage  usually  includes 
times  that  aren't  all  laughter  and  glamor  and  romance? 


Their  answer  must  be  a  decided  affirmative  to  that,  as 
well  as  to  the  important  question  of  "Are  you  truly  and 
happily  in  love?"  before  the  judges  will  write  "Ap- 
proved" on  their  application. 

We've  decided  that  the  second  reason,  to  explain  the 
unusual  record  of  lasting  happiness  among  Bride  and 
Groom  couples,  is  a  simple  one — we've  been  just  plain 
lucky  in  the  kind  of  people  who  have  been  married  in 
connection  with  our  program. 

A  wonderful  example  of  this  was  a  very  recent 
couple — Rheba  LaVene  Smith  and  Patrick  B.  Raymond. 
In  fact,  Rheba  and  Pat  were  such  an  unusually  swell 
couple,  and  their  love  story  so  special-  and  interesting, 
that  we  arranged  for  them  to  have  a  really  super- 
honeymoon.  To  explain  how  that  came  about,  I'll  have 
to  explain  first  a  little  about  the  three  co-owners  of  the 
Bride  and  Groom  program. 

To  start  with,  all  three  of  us  have  one  thing  in  com- 
mon— our  first  names  are  "John."  First,  is  John  Mas- 
terson.  He  originated  the  idea  of  the  program,  and  is 
sort  of  our  director-in-chief  (in  addition  to  being  man- 
aging-partner of  the  Breakfast  in  Hollywood  program) . 
Then  there's  John  Reddy,  our  manager,  who  not  only 
handles  the  administrative  and  executive  chores,  but 
who  also  arranges  for  the  more  than  half  million  dollars 


.' 


A  DOUBIE  PARTNERSHIP 


l 


Why  wouldn't 
John  Nelson  love 
his  job?  The 
brides,  delighted 
with  their  Bride 
and  Groom  gifts, 
always  end  by 
kissing  him  .  .  . 
as    did   Rheba. 


Rheba  was  a  singer,  Pat  was  her  agent.   But  Fat's 
mother  saw  them  this  way,  from  the  beginning. 


43   ' 


The    off-the-ah-    part    of    the    program: 

Ttheba    «nd    Pat    were    married    in    the 

Chapman  Park  Chapel  by  Rev.  Alden  Hill. 


4F* 


7 
f 


1A7HENEVER  we  are  being  interviewed  about  the  pro- 
f  J  gram,  the  interviewer  invariably  gets  around  to 
u  ? y^g'  f^\  "  *"■  SOUnds  won<ierful.  But  what 
about  after  the  honeymoon?  How  many  Bride  and 
Groom  couples  really  stick  together?" 

Love  that  question!  It  gives  us  another  chance  to  brae 
up  a  set  of  figures  that  we're  really  proud  of— figures 
showing  that  the  divorce  rate  for  Bride  and  Groom 
marriages  is  so  much  lower  than  the  national  rate  as  to 
be  practically  non-existent! 

The  interviewer's  next  question,  of  course,  is  always 
How  does  that  happen?  Why  should  your  couples  turn 
out  to  be  more  sincere  than  the  average  couple  when 
they  make  their  vows  about''.  .  .  till  death  do  us  part''  " 
Weve  asked  ourselves  that  question,  and  we  think 
we've  come  up  with  the  two  most  important  answers 
First,  and  most  obvious,  is  the  fact  that  our  board  of 
judges  is  mighty  careful  when  it  comes  to  approving  a 
couple's  appearance  on  the  broadcast.  Each  application 
(and  we  receive  several  hundred  a  month)  is  judged 
not  only  for  the  dramatic  and  human  interest  of  the 
couple's  love  story,  but  also  for  the  couple's  attitude 
towards  marriage.  Do  they  realize  that  it's  an  adult  job 
they're  taking  on— and  that  marriage  usually  includes 
times  that  aren't  all  laughter  and  glamor  and  romance? 


Their  answer  must  be  a  decided  affirmative  to  that,  as 
well  as  to  the  important  question  of  "Are  you  truly  and 
happily  in  love?"  before  the  judges  will  write  "Ap- 
proved   on  their  application. 

We've  decided  that  the  second  reason,  to  explain  the 
unusual  record  of  lasting  happiness  among  Bride  and 
Groom  couples,  is  a  simple  one— we've  been  just  plain 
lucky  in  the  kind  of  people  who  have  been  married  in 
connection  with  our  program. 

A  wonderful  example  of  this  was  a  very  recent 
couple— Rheba  LaVene  Smith  and  Patrick  B.  Raymond. 
In  fact,  Rheba  and  Pat  were  such  an  unusually  swell 
couple,  and  their  love  story  so  special,  and  interesting, 
that  we  arranged  for  them  to  have  a  really  super- 
honeymoon.  To  explain  how  that  came  about,  I'll  have 
to  explain  first  a  little  about  the  three  co-owners  of  the 
Bride  and  Groom  program. 

To  start  with,  all  three  of  us  have  one  thing  in  com- 
mon—our first  names  are  "John."  First,  is  John  Mas- 
terson.  He  originated  the  idea  of  the  program,  and  is 
sort  of  our  director-in-chief  (in  addition  to  being  man- 
aging-partner of  the  Breakfast  in  Hollywood  program). 
Then  there's  John  Reddy,  our  manager,  who  not  only 
handles  the  administrative  and  executive  chores,  but 
who  also  arranges  for  the  more  than  half  million  dollars 


Never  mix   business  with   pleasure 


that's  a  rule.    But  rules,  after  all,  are 


made  to  be  broken.    Especially  by  people  in  love 


A  DOUBLE  PARTNERSHIP 


By  JOHN   NELSON 


M.C.  ol  Bride  mid  Groom,  heard  Monday  throuih  Friday  at  2:30  EDT 
on  ABC,  (elta  thia  iiory  from  the  program'*  Slea  for  Radio  Mirror. 


Why  wouldn't 
John  Nelson  love 
his  job?  The 
brides,  delighted 
with  their  Bride 
and  Groom  gifts, 
always  end  by 
kissing  him  .  .  . 
as    did   Rheba. 


AND 


Aram 


IN     A     DOUBLE     PARTNERSHIP 


worth  of  gifts  awarded  to  Bride  and  Groom  couples 
each  year.   Finally,  there's  myself,  John  Nelson. 

The  three  of  us  got  together  during  college  days, 
at  Gonzaga  University  in  Spokane,  Washington. 
(Gonzaga  was  also  the  alma  mater  of  another  fellow 
you  may  have  heard  in  radio — a  fellow  named  Bing 
Crosby.)  Those  were  swell  days  and,  as  a  result, 
we've  never  stopped  being  boosters  for  the  State  of 
Washington. 

THAT  was  how  it  happened  that  the  application  of 
Rheba  Smith  and  Pat  Raymond,  after  being  ap- 
proved by  the  judges,  was  brought  to  our  special 
attention.  For  Pat,  in  explaining  why  he  wanted  to 
be  married  in  connection  with  Bride  and  Groom,  had 
written:  "Ever  since  I  first  met  Rheba,  I've  been 
enthusing  about  Washington  as  being  the  best  and 
most  beautiful  state  in  the  union.  A  Bride  and  Groom 
honeymoon  would  make  it  possible  for  me  to  show 
her  that  I  wasn't  exaggerating!" 

That  was  all  it  took.  Masterson,  Reddy,  and  I 
started  sending  wires  and  making  long-distance  calls 
to  everyone  we  knew  in  Spokane — "You've  got  to 
back  us  up  in  all  the  praise  we've  heaped  on  Wash- 
ington, by  showing  this  couple  the  best  time  any 
newly  weds  ever  had  on  any  honeymoon!" 

Before  the  honeymoon,  of  course,  there  was  the 
broadcast,  which  means  the  love  story.  Pat  and 
Rheba's  love  story  started  a  little  more  than  a  year 
ago,  right  here  in  Hollywood.  Pat  was  then  working 
as  a  literary  agent  with  the  Rosalie  Stewart  Agency. 

"Stories  and  writers  were  my  specialty,"  he  ex- 


plained, "but,  of  course,  I  was  always  on  the  lookout 
for  any  talented  person  who  might  be  interested  in 
having  the  agency  represent  them.  In  fact,  I'd  asked 
my  friends  to  let  me  know  if  they  ran  across  anyone 
who  looked  promising." 

But,  being  a  good  agent  in  Hollywood  means  be- 
ing not  too  naive  about  glowing  praise  of  unknown 
hopefuls.  Hollywood  Boulevard,  the  Sunset  Strip — 
pick  any  street  in  Hollywood  and  you're  pretty  apt 
to  find  it  crowded  with  people  looking  for  a  break 
in  the  movies  or  in  radio.  Unfortunately,  too  many 
of  them  aren't  equipped  with  the  talent  needed  to 
earn  and  hold  such  a  break. 

So,  when  Pat's  own  mother  called  him  one  day  to 
talk  about  a  "wonderfully  talented  girl"  who  lived 
right  around  the  corner  from  her,  Pat  was  polite  but 
skeptical.  "But  you've  got  to  arrange  an  audition  for 
this  girl,"  his  mother  insisted.  "Why,  the  whole 
neighborhood  is  talking  about  her  wonderful  singing." 

"But,  Mother,"  Pat  protested,  "there's  a  big  differ- 
ence between  a  voice  that  happens  to  be  sweet  enough 
to  entertain  neighborhood  friends,  and  a  voice  well- 
trained  enough  to  interest  hard-boiled  producers 
who  are  used  to  top-ranking  professionally  trained 
singers." 

Finally,  to  please  his  mother,  rather  than  with  any 
hope  of  discovering  a  new  star,  Pat  telephoned  Rheba 
and  suggested  that  she  send  him  a  couple  of  pictures 
of  herself,  along  with  a  recording  of  her  voice.  "Only 
someone  who's  been  in  the  same  position  will  know 
how  excited  I  was  about  that  call,"  Rheba  explains 
•now.    "And   to   make   it  worse,   I  didn't   have   any 


A  gift  to  be  treasured :  from  Rev.  Hill 


At  Grand  Coulee  dam :    awesome  machinery  ... 

recording.  I  was  afraid  to  tell  Pat  that — he  sounded 
so  professional  over  the  phone — afraid  that  he'd  dis- 
miss me  as  a  completely  hopeless  amateur."     * 

However,  Pat  did  have  pictures  of  herself,  so  took 
a  chance  and  sent  them  to  Pat  without  a  recording. 
"I  found  myself  paying  a  lot  more  attention  to  those, 
pictures  than  an  agent  usually  does  to  pictures  of  a 
possible  client,"  Pat  admitted  later.  "I'd  seen  a  lot 
of  beautiful  girls  in  Hollywood,  but  there  was  some- 
thing about  Rheba's  picture  that  should  have  told  me 
I'd  finally  found  The  Girl." 


.  .   .  and   wonderful   shots   for  the   family   album. 

Instead,  Pat  finally  put  the  pictures  away,  telling 
himself  that  it  would  be  Rheba's  voice,  not  her  at- 
tractiveness, that  would  tell  the  story.  But  he  wasn't 
given  a  chance  to  forget  her — in  the  next  few  days 
he  received  phone  calls  from  at  least  six  of  the 
women  in  his  mother's  neighborhood,  each  one  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  Rheba  and  her  voice.  "It  all  began 
to  sound  like  the  old  story  of  someone  trying  to  get 
attention  by  having  friends  and  relatives  pose  as 
admiring  fans.  Usually,  that  sort  of  thing  is  done  by 
some  spoiled  brat  with  little  (Continued  on  page  88) 


e? 


<S? 


to  Rheba,  a  book  on  marriage. 


Rheba  played  the  wedding  party's  exit  march  on  her  new  Bride  and  Groom  spinet. 


45 


;    AND    \lhffV%     IN  "A     DOUBLE    PARTNERSHIP 


worth  of  gifts  awarded  to  Bride  and  Groom  couples 
each  year.   Finally,  there's  myself,  John  Nelson. 

The  three  of  us  got  together  during  college  days, 
at  Gonzaga  University  in  Spokane,  Washington. 
(Gonzaga  was  also  the  alma  mater  of  another  fellow 
you  may  have  heard  in  radio — a  fellow  named  Bing 
Crosby.)  Those  were  swell  days  and,  as  a  result, 
we've  never  stopped  being  boosters  for  the  State  of 
Washington. 

THAT  was  how  it  happened  that  the  application  of  ■ 
Rheba  Smith  and  Pat  Raymond,  after  being  ap- 
proved by  the  judges,  was  brought  to  our  special 
attention.  For  Pat,  in  explaining  why  he  wanted  to 
be  married  in  connection  with  Bride  and  Groom,  had 
written:  "Ever  since  I  first  met  Rheba,  I've  been 
enthusing  about  Washington  as  being  the  best  and 
most  beautiful  state  in  the  union.  A  Bride  and  Groom 
honeymoon  would  make  it  possible  for  me  to  show 
her  that  I  wasn't  exaggerating!" 

That  was  all  it  took.  Masterson,  Reddy,  and  I 
started  sending  wires  and  making  long-distance  calls 
to  everyone  we  knew  in  Spokane — "You've  got  to 
back  us  up  in  all  the  praise  we've  heaped  on  Wash- 
ington, by  showing  this  couple  the  best  time  any 
newlyweds  ever  had  on  any  honeymoon!" 

Before  the  honeymoon,  of  course,  there  was  the 
broadcast,  which  means  the  love  story.  Pat  and 
Rheba's  love  story  started  a  little  more  than  a  year 
ago,  right  here  in  Hollywood.  Pat  was  then  working 
as  a  literary  agent  with  the  Rosalie  Stewart  Agency. 

"Stories  and  writers  were  my  specialty,"  he  ex- 


plained, "but,  of  course,  I  was  always  on  the  lookout 
for  any  talented  person  who  might  be  interested  in 
having  the  agency  represent  them.  In  fact,  I'd  asked 
my  friends  to  let  me  know  if  they  ran  across  anyone 
who  looked  promising." 

But,  being  a  good  agent  in  Hollywood  means  be- 
ing not  too  naive  about  glowing  praise  of  unknown 
hopefuls.  Hollywood  Boulevard,  the  Sunset  Strip — 
pick  any  street  in  Hollywood  and  you're  pretty  apt 
to  find  it  crowded  with  people  looking  for  a  break 
in  the  movies  or  in  radio.  Unfortunately,  too  many 
of  them  aren't  equipped  with  the  talent  needed  to 
earn  and  hold  such  a  break. 

So,  when  Pat's  own  mother  called  him  one  day  to 
talk  about  a  "wonderfully  talented  girl"  who  lived 
right  around  the  corner  from  her,  Pat  was  polite  but 
skeptical.  "But  you've  got  to  arrange  an  audition  for 
this  girl,"  his  mother  insisted.  "Why,  the  whole 
neighborhood  is  talking  about  her  wonderful  singing." 

"But,  Mother,"  Pat  protested,  "there's  a  big  differ- 
ence between  a  voice  that  happens  to  be  sweet  enough 
to  entertain  neighborhood  friends,  and  a  voice  well- 
trained  enough  to  interest  hard-boiled  producers 
who  are  used  to  top-ranking  professionally  trained 
singers." 

Finally,  to  please  his  mother,  rather  than  with  any 
hope  of  discovering  a  new  star,  Pat  telephoned  Rheba 
and  suggested  that  she  send  him  a  couple  of  pictures 
of  herself,  along  with  a  recording  of  her  voice.  "Only 
someone  who's  been  in  the  same  position  will  know 
how  excited  I  was  about  that  call,"  Rheba  explains 
now.    "And   to  make   it  worse,   I  didn't   have   any 


f 


Al  Grand  Conlee  dam:    awesome  machinery 

recording.  I  was  afraid  to  tell  Pat  that-he  sounded 
so  professional  over  the  phone— afraid  that  he'd  dis- 
miss me  as  a  completely  hopeless  amateur  "     • 

However,  Pat  did  have  pictures  of  herself,  so  took 
a  chance  ^d  ^nt  them  (o  Pgt  ^^  &  r 

I  found  myself  paying  a  lot  more  attention  to  those 
pictures  than  an  agent  usually  does  to  pictures  of  a 
possible  client,  Pat  admitted  later.  "I'd  seen  a  lot 
of  beautiful  girls  in  Hollywood,  but  there  was  some- 
thing about  Rheba's  picture  that  should  have  told  me 
Id  finally  found  The  Girl." 


...  and  wonderful  shots  lor  Ihe  family  album. 

Instead,  Pat  finally  put  the  pictures  away,  telling 
himself  that  it  would  be  Rheba's  voice,  not  her  at- 
tractiveness, that  would  tell  the  story.  But  he  wasn't 
given  a  chance  to  forget  her— in  the  next  few  days 
he  received  phone  calls  from  at  least  six  of  the 
women  in  his  mother's  neighborhood,  each  one  sing- 
ing the  praises  of  Rheba  and  her  voice.  "It  all  began 
to  sound  like  the  old  story  of  someone  trying  to  get 
attention  by  having  friends  and  relatives  pose  as 
admiring  fans.  Usually,  that  sort  of  thing  is  done  by 
some  spoiled  brat  with  little  (Continued  on  page  88) 


A  gift  to  be  treasured:  from  H«v.Bi»  I     '»  Rheba,  a  book  on  marriage. 


Rheba  played  the  wedding  party'*  exit  marrh  on  hrr  nrw  Bride  and  Groom  spinel. 


GENE  O'DONNEL  is  Bar- 
ney Blake,  Police  Report- 
er (Thurs.  9:30  P.M. 
NBC) .  He  broke  into  act- 
ing via  summer  stock, 
and  after  an  Army  de- 
tour returned  to  the  stage 
and  television.  Born  in 
Des  Moines,  Gene  made 
Hollywood  his  home  town 
long  enough  to  be  seen 
in  many  movies  and 
heard  in  Lux  Theater,  Big 
Town,    Sherlock   Holmes. 


JOHNNY  DESMOND  is 

half  of  the  singing  team 
of  CBS -TV's  Face  the 
Music,  Mon.  and  Wed., 
7:15  P.M.  Johnny  began 
as  a  boy  soprano  in  De- 
troit. When  his  voice 
dropped,  he  made  a 
switch  to  radio  acting, 
and  was  heard  in  Lone 
Ranger,  Green  Hornet, 
and  other  Detroit  pro- 
grams. Then  he  came  of 
age,  and  went  back  to 
singing  with  Bob  Crosby, 
Gene  Krupa  and  eventu- 
ally Glenn  Miller.  With 
the  Miller  Band,  Johnny 
sang  all  over  Europe,  in- 
cluding a  couple  of  per- 
formances for  royalty. 
Johnny  is  as  telegenic  as 
his  partner  on  Face  the 
Music,  Shaye  Cogan, 
which  makes  their  tune- 
ful offering  attractive  to 
watch.  They  are  backed 
by  the  Tony  Mottola  Trio. 


KYLE  MACDONNELL 

stars  in  NBC's  For  Your 
Pleasure,  Thurs.,  8  P.M. 
EDT,  and  then  rushes  to 
Broadway  for  her  part 
in  "Make  Mine  Manhat- 
tan," in  which  her  tall 
blonde  beauty  and  ap- 
pealing voice  win  raves. 
Kyle  was  a  Conover  Mod- 
el before  her  first  Broad- 
way job  in  "Park  Ave." 


Over  Dumont   station  WABD,  Monica   Lewis   projected 


GRACE  GIOE  is  known 
as  "Aunt  Grace"  to  the 
thousands  of  youngsters 
who  see  and  hear  her 
Birthday  Party  television 
show  every  Thursday 
night  at  7  over  the  Du- 
Mont  station  WABD. 
"Aunt  Grace"  was  born 
Grace  Catherine  Gioe,  in 
1921,  in  Brooklyn,  and 
still  lives  there.  She  re- 
ceived her  early  educa- 
tion in  St.  Angela  Hall 
Academy  and  followed  by 
graduating  Marymount 
College  in  1942  in  Tarry- 
town,  New  York.  Grace 
handles  the  whole  Party 
show  from  auditioning 
the  youngsters  to  acting 
as    moderator    and    m.c. 


IN^RADIO  errors  can  be  covered  up  with  no  all- 
seeing  camera  eye  to  worry  about;  and  in  Hollywood 
if  something  goes  wrong  they  merely  stop  and  do  the 
scene  over  again.  But  in  television  once  the  action  has 
begun,  nothing  can  stop  it.  A  classic  example  is  the 
time  they  were  doing  a  dramatic  skit  at  WNBT  in 
Radio  City.  When  they  came  to  the  place  in  the  script 
where  a  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  a  tiny  weather 
station  in  Alaska,  everyone  was  grouped  about  in 
heavy  furs,  the  happy  couple  and  the  minister  were 
ready,  and  the  best  man  crossed  to  the  old-fashioned 
Victrola  that  was  to  play  "The  Wedding  March."  As 
he  placed  the  arm  to  the  record,  the  needle  fell  out 
and  disappeared!  The  bride  and  bridegroom  franti- 
cally ad-libbed  while  other  members  of  the  cast  got 
down  on  hands  and  knees  to  search  for  the  missing 
needle;  for  the  cameras  just  had  to  keep  grinding.  The 
needle  was  found  and  the  action  continued  with  the 
actors  perspiring  a  little  more  than  usual. 
*  *  * 

With  the  baseball  season  at  its  height — let's  take  a 
look  behind  the  scenes  at  how  a  game  is  televised. 
The  televising  re.quires  as  finely  co-ordinated  team 
work  as  the  winning  of  a  big-league  match.  To  do  a 
video  broadcast  also  requires  more  men  than  are  on  a 
ball  team.  The  list  includes  the  announcer,  his  spotter, 


46 


RADIO 


MIRROR 


a    personality    as    attractive    as    her    song    interpretation. 


two  cameramen,  program  director,  audio  engineer,  two 
video  control  technicians,  a  switch  technician  and  a 
transmitter  supervisor.  When  doubleheaders  are 
played  two  crews  are  used,  except  for  the  announcer 
and  his  spotter,  because  of  the  fatiguing  concentration 
required.  The  two  television  cameras  that  are  used  to 
telecast  a  baseball  game  are  located  in  a  camera  booth 
hung  from  the  upper  tier  behind  home  plate.  In  the 
same  booth  are  the  announcer  and  his  spotter.  While 
two  cameras  continuously  follow  the  action  of  the 
baseball  game  and  catch  different  views,  only  one  of 
them  is  sent  out  over  the  air.  The  program  director 
decides  which  view  is  broadcast.  He  and  his  crew  are 
housed  in  a  television  control  room  under  the  stands. 
In  front  of  the  director  are  two  screens — one  for  each 
camera.  It  is  his  task  to  decide  instantly  which  view 
is  the  better  and  order  it  transmitted. 
*  *  * 

NEWSREELS  are  proving  to  be  extremely  popular  on 
television;  and  why  not — pictures  of  news  and  spe- 
cial events  reach  the  televiewer  as  quickly  as  the  day 
they  occur.  The  Camel  Newsreel  Theater,.for  example, 
which  is  seen  at  7:50  every  week-day  evening  over 
the  NBC  network — and  the  films  are  flown  to  other 
video  stations  throughout  the  country — shows  Fox- 
Movietone  newsreels  days  before  they  can  be  shown 


Dumont's    wrestling-match    commentator,    Dennis    James, 
is   as   popular   with   the   audience   as    Gorgeous    George. 


At  "Arch  of  Triumph"  opening,  NBC-TV's  Bob  Stanton 
caught  Ingrid  Bergman  for  her  first  television  appearance. 


in  theaters.  And  the  theaters  are  getting  nervous. 

#  *  * 

Word  comes  from  France  that  despite  limited  budg- 
ets, television  there  is  forging  ahead.  Radiodiffusion 
Francais  executive  Jacques  Armand  told  recently  of 
plans  for  a  video  station  complete  with  a  large  swim- 
ming pool  to  be  used  for  underwater  scenes! 

*  *  * 

Television  courses  have  been  given  in  Eastern  col- 
leges for  several  years — but  only  for  the  technical  side 
of  the  medium.  However,  North  Texas  Agricultural 
College,  at  Arlington,  Texas,  will  offer  advanced 
speech  courses  tailored  to  the  television  industry  in 
the  Fall.  (Continued  on  page  79) 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


47 


I 


GENE  O'DONNEL  is  Bar- 
ney Blake,  Police  Report- 
er (Thurs.  9:30  P.M. 
NBC).  He  broke  into  act- 
ing via  summer  stock, 
and  after  an  Army  de- 
tour returned  to  the  stage 
and  television.  Born  in 
Dcs  Moines,  Gene  made 
Hollywood  his  home  town 
long  enough  to  be  seen 
in  many  movies  and 
heard  in  Lux  Theater,  Big 
Town,    Sherlock    Holmes. 


JOHNNY   DESMOND  is 

half  of  the  singing  team 
of  CBS -TV's  Face  the 
Music,  Mon.  and  Wed., 
7:15  P.M.  Johnny  began 
as  a  boy  soprano  in  De- 
troit. When  his  voice 
dropped,  he  made  a 
switch  to  radio  acting, 
and  was  heard  in  Lone 
Ranger,  Green  Hornet, 
and  other  Detroit  pro- 
grams. Then  he  came  of 
age,  and  went  back  to 
singing  with  Bob  Crosby, 
Gene  Krupa  and  eventu- 
ally Glenn  Miller.  With 
the  Miller  Band,  Johnny 
sang  all  over  Europe,  in- 
cluciiiu;  a  couple  of  per- 
formances for  royalty. 
Johnny  is  as  telegenic  as 
his  partner  on  Face  the 
Music,  Shave  Cogan, 
which  makes  their  tune- 
ful offering  attractive  to 
watch.  They  are  backed 
by  the  Tony  Mottola  Trio. 


KYLE  MACDONNELL 

stars  in  NBC's  For  Your 
Pleasure,  Thurs.,  8  P.M, 
EDT,  and  then  rushes  to 
Broadway  for  her  part 
in  "Make  Mine  Manhat- 
tan," in  which  her  tall 
blonde  beauty  and  ap- 
pealing voice  win  raves. 
Kyle  was  a  Conover  Mod- 
el before  her  first  Broad- 
way job  in  "Park  Ave." 


GRACE  GIOE  is  known 
as  "Aunt  Grace"  to  the 
thousands  of  youngsters 
who  see  and  hear  her 
Birthday  Party  television 
show  every  Thursday 
night  at  7  over  the  Du- 
Mont  station  WABD. 
"Aunt  Grace"  was  bom 
Grace  Catherine  Gioe,  in 
1921,  in  Brooklyn,  and 
still  lives  there.  She  re- 
ceived her  early  educa- 
tion in  St.  Angela  Hall 
Academy  and  followed  by 
graduating  Mary  mount 
College  in  1942  in  Tarry- 
town,  New  York.  Grace 
handles  the  whole  Party 
show  from  auditioning 
the  youngsters  to  acting 
as    moderator    and    m.c. 


Over   Diiniont  slat 


IN^RADIO  errors  can  be  covered  up  with,  no  all- 
seeing  camera  eye  to  worry  about;  and  in  Hollywood 
if  something  goes  wrong  they  merely  stop  and  do  the 
scene  over  again.  But  in  television  once  the  action  has 
begun,  nothing  can  stop  it.  A  classic  example  is  the 
time  they  were  doing  a  dramatic  skit  at  WNBT  in 
Radio  City.  When  they  came  to  the  place  in  the  script 
where  a  marriage  was  to  take  place  in  a  tiny  weather 
station  in  Alaska,  everyone  was  grouped  about  in 
heavy  furs,  the  happy  couple  and  the  minister  were 
ready,  and  the  best  man  crossed  to  the  old-fashioned 
Victrola  that  was  to  play  "The  Wedding  March  "  As 
he  placed  the  arm  to  the  record,  the  needle  fell  out 
and  disappeared!  The  bride  and  bridegroom  franti- 
cally ad-libbed  while  other  members  of  the  cast  got 
down  on  hands  and  knees  to  search  for  the  missing 
needle;  for  the  cameras  just  had  to  keep  grinding.  The 
needle  was  found  and  the  action  continued  with  the 
actors  perspiring  a  little  more  than  usual. 

With  the  baseball  season  at  its  height— let's  take  a 
look  behind  the  scenes  at  how  a  game  is  televised. 
The  televising  requires  as  finely  co-ordinated  team 
work  as  the  winning  of  a  big-league  match.  To  do  a 
video  broadcast  also  requires  more  men  than  are  on  a 
ball  team.  The  list  includes  the  announcer,  his  spotter, 


RADIO         MIRROR 


song    interprelaLu 


two  cameramen,  program  director,  audio  engineer,  two 
video  control  technicians,  a  switch  technician  and  a 
transmitter  supervisor.  When  doubleheaders  are 
played  two  crews  are  used,  except  for  the  announcer 
and  his  spotter,  because  of  the  fatiguing  concentration 
required.  The  two  television  cameras  that  are  used  to 
telecast  a  baseball  game  are  located  in  a  camera  booth 
hung  from  the  upper  tier  behind  home  plate.  In  the 
same  booth  are  the  announcer  and  his  spotter.  While 
two  cameras  continuously  follow  the  action  of  the 
baseball  game  and  catch  different  views,  only  one  of 
them  is  sent  out  over  the  air.  The  program  director 
decides  which  view  is  broadcast.  He  and  his  crew  are 
housed  in  a  television  control  room  under  the  stands. 
In  front  of  the  director  are  two  screens — one  for  each 
camera.  It  is  his  task  to  decide  instantly  which  view 
is  the  better  and  order  it  transmitted. 

NEWSREELS  are  proving  to  be  extremely  popular  on 
television;  and  why  not — pictures  of  news  and  spe- 
cial events  reach  the  televiewer  as  quickly  as  th*e  day 
they  occur.  The  Camel  Newsreel  Theater,.for  example, 
which  is  seen  at  7:50  every  week-day  evening  over 
the  NBC  network— and  the  films  are  flown  to  other 
video  stations  throughout  the  country — shows  Fox- 
Movietone  newsreels  days  before  they  can  be  shown 


DnniomV    vm 

it  a>  popnhu   v,hh   ilf   audience   u 


"    li ii'li"  nine    Mil  -TV"!  Bob  Mi 

caughf  Injrriil  II. ,    .  nppean 


in  theaters.  And  the  theaters  are  getting  nervous. 

Word  comes  from  France  that  despite  limited  budg- 
ets, television  there  is  forging  ahead.  Radiodiffusion 
Francais  executive  Jacques  Armand  told  recently  of 
plans  for  a  video  station  complete  with  a  large  swim- 
ming pool  to  be  used  for  underwater  scenes! 

Television  courses  have  been  given  in  Eastern  col- 
leges for  several  years — but  only  for  the  technical  side 
of  the  medium.  However,  North  Texas  Agricultural 
College,  at  Arlington,  Texas,  will  offer  advanced 
speech  courses  tailored  to  the  television  industry  in 
the  Fall.  (Continued  on  poae  79) 


TELEVISION    SECTION 


Guest  Vincent  Lopez  found  that  the  girls  who  model  on 
Television  Fashions  mast  have  brains  and  acting  ability. 


Adelaide  Hawley's  Television  Fashions  on  Pa- 
rade script  gets  a  friendly  preview  by  Virginia 
Pope,  r.,  Fashion  Editor  of  the  New  York  Times. 


THERE  is  no  reason  why  the  woman  with  a  television 
set  should  not  be  well  dressed.   Each  Friday  at  8:00, 

Adelaide  Hawley  brings  her  a  complete  fashion  show, 
on  Dumont's  WABD. 

That  Adelaide  Hawley  is  qualified  to  do  that  is  proven 
by  the  letters  of  praise  that  pour  into  the  program  each 
week  and  by  a  quick  glance  at  Miss  Hawley's  back- 
ground— which  includes  more  than  ten  years  as  a  radio 
commentator  on  things  feminine,  and  ten  years  as  an 
editor  and  narrator  for  MGM's  "News  of  the  Day" 
newsreel.  All  this  experience  made  Adelaide  the  natural 
choice  when  producer  Leon  Roth  and  director  Raymond 
Nelson  wanted  someone  to  coordinate  and  narrate  their 
Television  Fashions  on  Parade. 

However,  Miss  Hawley  is  quick  to  point  out  that  no 
amount  of  experience  in  other  media  prepared  her  for 
the  merry-go-round  she  rides  each  week.  Of  course 
early  in  the  week  she  meets  with  the  department  store 
representatives  and  they  go  down  to  the  wholesale  mar- 
ket to  select  the  clothes  for  Friday's  show.  She  some- 
times has   a   little   difficulty   with   said   representatives 


until  she  has  proven  to  them  what  things  televise  well 
and  what  would  be  completely  lost  on  video.  For  in- 
stance, Miss  Hawley  will  select  a  string  of  pearls  with  a 
rather  large  bead;  the  department  store  representative 
will  protest  that  the  beads  are  too  large  to  be  really 
smart.  Miss  Hawley  will  patiently  explain  that  when  the 
tele  cameras  get  through  with  them  the  pearls  will  just 
be  noticeable,  and  women  will  ask  for  the  usual  size 
pearl  when  they  come  to  buy.  On  broadcast  (or  telecast) 
day,  the  models  are  called  for  12  noon  and  are  put 
through  three  complete  rehearsals.  Since  Television 
Fashions  on  Parade  is  really  a  musical  comedy  with 
clothes,  rather  than  a  fashion  show  with  music,  a  great 
deal  of  integration  is  needed  among  the  story,  music 
and  fashion  groups.  Miss  Hawley  is  off  in  a  booth  to  do 
her  commentary.  She  wears  headphones  so  she  can  hear 
the  director's  instructions  and  watches  a  television  re- 
ceiver so  she  can  check  that  everything  she  is  describ- 
ing is  actually  being  photographed  at  the  same  time. 
That  set-up  is  certainly  one  of  the  greatest  tests  of  co- 
ordination ever  devised;  but  Miss  Hawley  is  equal  to  it. 


48 


RADIO 


MIRROR 


HAPPY  Felton  has  been  making  radio  audiences  laugh 
for  a  good  many  years,  but  one  glance  at  his  gener- 
ous 300-pound  girth  and  jolly  face  proves  that  Happy 
was  built  for  television. 

Producer  Ray  Harvey  thought  so,  too,  and  when  he 
decided  to  put  an  audience  participation  show  on  video, 
he  got  together  with  Happy  Felton  and  cooked  up  School 
Days  which  is  now  seen  and  heard  on  WABD  every 
Wednesday  at  8:00  P.M.  Participants  are  chosen  from 
the  studio  audience.  Prizes  go  to  the  students  with 
the  highest  grades. 

Producer  Harvey  doesn't  believe  that  the  stunt  pro- 
gram can  be  lifted  right  out  of  radio  and  put  on  tele- 
vision as  is.  "It's  one  thing  to  see  a  man  hit  with  a  pie 
way  up  on  a  stage  or  hear  it  over  the  radio;  it's  quite  an- 
other thing  to  see  a  man  so  treated  right  in  your  own 
living  room.  It's  my  opinion  that  the  video  audience 
participation  show  cannot  go  in  for  broad  slapstick.  The 
medium  is  too  intimate,"  declares  Mr.  Harvey. 

On  a  participation  show,  contestants  and  m.c.  share 
in  importance.  Mr.  Harvey  is  an  expert  at  choosing  par- 
ticipants who  will  speak  up  in  clear  voices  and  will 
be  able  to  take  a  joke.  The  Master-of-Ceremonies 
carries  a  burden  in  television  that  makes  a  similar  radio 
stint  seem  like  play.  Once  the  show  begins,  he  is  con- 
stantly on  camera,  and  completely  on  his  own.  In  radio 
he  can  be  given. all  manner  of  cues,  directions,  and  even 
have  notes  slipped  to  him.  In  video,  however,  the  viewer 
sees  all  the  action  there  is. 


Radio's    famous    "audience    participant,"    Sadie    Hertz, 
made  her  television  debnt  as  one  of  Happy's  "students." 


ELEVISION 


SECTION 


Iwfe; 


Peter  Grant,  with  WLW  secretary  Evelyn  Wal- 
ters, cheeks  one  of  the  newscasts  which  have 
built  his  reputation  for  reliable  reporting 
wherever  WLW  is  heard.  His  mother  (r.) 
enjoys  Peter's  broadcasts,  but  enjoys  even  more 
a   session   with  her  son's   colorful   scrapbooks. 


THERE'S  a  strong  connection  between  a  young  man 
from  St.  Louis  named  Melvin  Maginn  and  WLW's  ace 
newscaster  Peter  Grant.  In  fact,  you  can  trace  Mel- 
vin's  career  through  its  soda  clerk,  tree  surgeon,  bus 
driver  and  law  student  phases  right  up  to  the  radio- 
announcing  phase  in  which  he  became  Peter  Grant. 

During  the  bus-driving  days  in  St.  Louis  in  1924, 
Melvin  used  to  combine  an  informative  sight-seeing 
spiel  with  the  maneuvering  of  his  vehicle.  One  of  his 
passengers,  much  impressed,  told  him  he  ought  to  be 
"on  the  radio."  "I  laughed  and  laughed,"  Peter  says, 
"because  f  knew  I  was  going  to  be  a  lawyer."  This  was 
the  goal  on  which  he  kept  his.  eye  all  through  George 
Washington  University  and  law  school.  He  reached-  it, 
unfortunately,  in  1930,  when  he  graduated — right  into 
the  middle  of  the  recession.  At  that  point,  of  necessity, 
he  took  his  eye  off  it  and  looked  around  for  something 


that  would  feed  him.  A  bright  friend  urged  him  on  to 
Station  KMOX,  feeling  that  Peter's  active  undergrad- 
uate background  in  amateur  theatricals  might  qualify 
him  for  radio  acting.  It  did;  gradually  he  did  less  acting 
and  more  announcing,  and  in  1932  transferred  to  WLW 
to  become  chief  announcer.  Except  for  four  Army  years 
which  took  him  to  Hawaii  and  sent  him  back  a  Major, 
Peter's  been  at  WLW  ever  since,  building  in  the  midwest 
his  solid  reputation  for  crisp,  understandable  news  de- 
livery. He  has  also  announced  major  network  programs, 
Famous  Jury  Trials  and  the  Red  Skelton  Show  among 
them. 

Listeners  approve  of  what  Peter  calls  the  "25% 
British"  in  his  diction.  It's  in  character,  for  Peter  is  a 
horse-and-dog  man.  He  lives  a  comfortable  bachelor 
life  with  his  father  and  mother,  hunts  with  the  Camargo 
Hunt  Club  and  has  a  closet  full — naturally — of  tweeds. 


Portrait  of  a  squire:  WLW  newscaster  Peter  Grant  is  a  horse-and-hound,  pipe-and-tweeds  man 


50 


I.  Financier  Walter  Stevens  hires  Ted  Marshall 
to  kill  a  man  named  Victor  Brown,  and  make  the 
murder  look  like  suicide.  Ted  agrees  on  a  price 
of  S2500  and  asks  no  questions  .  .  .  but  makes  up 
his  mind  to   find  out  what  Brown  has  on  Stevens. 


2.  At  local  FBI  field  office  Agents  Grant  and 
Taylor  begin  a  search  for  promoter  Walter  Jones, 
who  went  bankrupt  a  year  before,  shortly  after 
his  bookkeeper  disappeared.  Hikers  have  found 
the     bookkeeper's     decomposing,     murdered     body. 


wis  is  yotm 


JERRY  DE- 
VINE  pro- 
duces This  Is 
Your  FBI, 
the  dramatic 
presentation 
of  cases  from  the  Federal  Bureau 
of  Investigation  files.  Here,  as  you 
heard  them  on  the  air,  are:  Frank 
Albertson  as  Stevens;  Tony  Bar- 
rett as  Ted;  Woodrow  Williams 
as  Victor  Brown;  Peggy  Webber 
as  June;  Stacy  Harris  as  Taylor; 
Ira  Grossel  as  Grant;  Rita  Lynn 
as  the  secretary.  Listen  Fridays 
to  ABC,  8:30  P.M.  EDT. 


* 


5.  Despondent    and    broke,    Brown    killed  himself, 

but    Ted    demands    his    half    from    Stevens  because 

no    matter    how    the    man    died,    Stevens'  purpose 

is     accomplished.      When     the     promoter  refuses, 

Ted     threatens    to     make     collection     with  a     gun. 


52 


3.  Ted  and  his  girl  June  contact  Victor  Brown. 
He  is  drinking  heavily,  confides  he  worked  as 
bookkeeper  for  Stevens  when  latter  recently 
promoted  a  stock  issue.  Ted  glimpses  Stevens' 
"angle."    decides    to    wait    before    killing    Brown. 


4.  Ted  accuses  Stevens 
of  planning  to  go  bank- 
rapt  and  frame  things 
to  look  as  though  Brown, 
guilty  of  misappropria- 
tion, has  killed  himself. 
Ted  raises  his  fee  to  half 
of  Stevens'  "take,"  goes 
back  to  Brown  .  .  . 
and     finds     him     dead. 


6.  Meanwhile,  the  vast  FBI  network  has  traced 
Walter  Jones  to  Walter  Stevens.  One  of  Stevens' 
investors,  Mr.  Pine,  calls  to  say  he  has  a  suicide 
note  from  Victor  Brown,  containing  explanation 
and  proof  of  Stevens'  carefully  arranged  bankruptcy. 


7.  It's  a  big  haul  for  the  FBI.  They  get  to  Stevens' 
apartment  in  time  to  hear  Ted  convict  himself 
of  conspiracy  in  Stevens'  affairs  by  trying  to  collect 
what  he  claims  is  due  bim.  And  June  also  is 
asked    to    "come   along,   please,"    by    the    FBI    men. 


53 


I.  Finunrier  Walter  Stevens  hires  Ted  Marshall 
to  kill  a  iniin  named  Victor  Brown,  and  make  the 
murder  look  like  suicide.  Ted  agrees  on  a  price 
of  $2500  and  asks  no  questions  .  .  .  hut  makes  up 
bii  mind  to   find  nut  what  Brown  has  on  Stevens. 


2.    At    local    FBI    field    office    Agent,    Grant 
Taylor  begin  a  search  for  promoter  Walter  J 
who    went    bankrupt    a    year    before,    shortly     f 
his    bookkeeper    disappeared.     Hikers    have    |       ! 
imposing,     murdered     hud, 


4.  Ted   accuses   Stevens   ' 
of  planning  to  go  bank-   i 
rupl   and   frame   things 
in  look  as  though  Brown,  j 
guilty  of  misappropria- 
tion, has  killed  himself. 
Ted  ralXsl  his  fee  to  half 
of  Stevens'  -take,"  goes  ' 
back    to    Brown     .   .   . 
and     finds     him     dead. 


JERRY  DE- 
VINE  pro- 
W^B  I  duces  This  Is 
■="  -'  Your  FBI, 
the  dramatic 
presentation 
of  cases  from  the  Federal  Bureau 
of  Investigation  files.  Here,  as  you 
heard  them  on  the  air,  are:  Frank 
Albertson  as  Stevens;  Tony  Bar- 
rett as  Ted;  Woodrow  Williams 
as  Victor  Brown;  Peggy  Webber 
as  June;  Stacy  Harris  as  Taylor; 
Ira  Grossel  as  Grant;  Rita  Lynn 
as  the  secretary.  Listen  Fridays 
to  ABC,  8:30  P.M.  EDT. 


5.  I).- s  pond  en  r    and    broke.    Brown    killed 

himself. 

hai    Ted    demands    bis    half    from    Stevens 

because 

no    manor    how    the    man    died,    Stevens' 

purpose 

■  -      accomplished.      When      the     promoter 

refu-e>. 

red     threatens    m     make    collection    with 

:i    pun. 

Meanwhile,    the    vast    FBI    network    ha*    traced 

liter   Jones    to    Walter    Stevens.     One   of   Stevens' 

investor*,,   Mr.   Pine,   calls   to   say   he   han   a   suicide 

note    from    Victor    Brown,    containing    explanation 

and  proof  of  Stevens*  carefully  arranged  bankruptcy. 


7.  It's  a  big  haul  for  ihe  FBI.  Thry  grt  to  9tC 
apartment  in  time  to  hear  Ted  convirt  him-.  Il 
..I  COOjpiraC)  in  Srev.-.i>'  affair-,  by  trying  to  colled 
what  he  claims  is  due  him.  And  Jun>-  iko  i- 
Qfked    ti>    "rumr    along.    plra*r,"    b]    lh<-    (Ml 


rince  Albert! 


I  J 

^B 

9 

I  '' 

I     ■ 

|    E 

|  ;»'.'■■ 

• 

Down  to  the  Opry  House  in  Nashville  there's  a  party. 


ONE  evening  back  in  1925,  a  hole  suddenly  developed  in 
the  program  schedule  of  WSM,  Nashville,  and  that's 
when  Grand  Ole  Opry  was  born.  A  production  execu- 
tive, called  on  "Uncle  Jimmy"  Thompson  to  fill  the  empty 
time,  and  "Uncle  Jimmy"  fiddled  so  many  telegrams  and 
phone  calls  into  the  studios  from  mountain  music-hungry 
listeners  that  WSM  decided  he  was  there  to  stay. 

Companionable  southerners  didn't  let  Uncle  Jimmy  solo 
for  long.  Pretty  soon  everyone  who  twanged  a  guitar,  blew 
on  a  jug  or  could  handle  a  zither  swarmed  over  to  WSM 
and  offered  to  help  out.  Opry  personnel  expanded;  now- 
adays, it  is  made  up  of  farmers  and  ranchers  recruited  from 
the    bayous,    canebrakes    and    tobacco    fields.    Some    are 

L.  to  r.l  Cumberland  Valley  Boya;  at  microphone.  Red  Foley,  comic  Rod  Brasfield;  more  Valley 


<fJ&Kis 


if 


jL- 


«^L.*-v4iJ 


urday  nights — and  Radio  Mirror  is  taking  you  along 


Rod  Brasfield,  dressed  for  Saturday  night. 
Commercials  fall  to  Old  Hickory  Singers. 


i 


small  shopkeepers.  On  Saturday  nights  they  head  for  the 
Opry  House,  transform  themselves  with  outsize  shoes, 
flour-sack  dresses  and  Uncle  Sam  beards,  and  trample  out 
before  the  Old  Barn  backdrop.  Rehearsals  are  a  matter  of 
inspiration;  five  minutes  is  all  it  takes  to  break  in  a  new 
member. 

Grand  Ole.  Opry's  national  hook-up  dates  from  1938.  To 
accommodate  the  4000  folks  who  come  from  near  and  far 
to  see  it,  an  old  tabernacle,  the  Ryman  Auditorium,  was 
bought.  What  you  hear  on  the  air  (NBC,  Saturday  nights 
at  10:30  P.M.  EDT)  is  only  a  fraction  of  the  show.  It 
actually  starts  at  8,  goes  on  till  12,  with  the  stomping,  sing- 
ing audience  very  much  a  part  of  the  proceedings. 


"  ffT3r  I 


*:  "Gossip"  Minnie  Pearl,  announcer  Louis  Back;  Old  Hickory  Singers;  director  Jack  Stapp. 


./^ 


***■'*»> 


U' 


\X* 


f\ 


t~i> 


Minnie  is  really  from  Grinder's  Switch. 
Red  ensembles  with  the  Cumberland  Boys. 


Down  to  the  Opry  House  in  Nashville  there's  a  party, 


ONE  evening  back  in  1925,  a  hole  suddenly  developed  in 
the  program  schedule  of  WSM,  Nashville,  and  that's 
when  Grand  Ole  Opry 'was  born.  A  production  execu- 
tive,, called  on  "Uncle  Jimmy"  Thompson  to  fill  the  empty 
time,  and  "Uncle  Jimmy"  fiddled  so  many  telegrams  and 
phone  calls  into  the  studios  from  mountain  music-hungry 
listeners  that  WSM  decided  he  was  there  to  stay. 

Companionable  southerners  didn't  let  Uncle  Jimmy  solo 
for  long.  Pretty  soon  everyone  who  twanged  a  guitar,  blew 
on  a  jug  or  could  handle  a  zither  swarmed  over  to  WSM 
and  offered  to  help  out.  Opry  personnel  expanded;  now- 
adays, it  is  made  up  of  farmers  and  ranchers  recruited  from 
the    bayous,    canebrakes    and    tobacco    fields.    Some    are 


L.  to  r.i  Curnlnrland  Volley  Boy.;  at  microphone  Hot  Foley. 


jHodBrashrld;  "<o" 


turday  nights — and  Radio  Mirror   is  taking  you   alon; 


small  shopkeepers.  On  Saturday  nights  they  head  for  the 
Opry  House,  transform  themselves  with  outsize  shoes, 
Hour-sack  dresses  and  Uncle  Sam  beards,  and  trample  out 
before  the  Old  Barn  backdrop.  Rehearsals  are  a  matter  of 
inspiration;  five  minutes  is  all  it  takes  to  break  in  a  new 
member. 

Grand  Ole.  Opry's  national  hook-up  dates  from  1938.  To 
accommodate  the  4000  folks  who  come  from  near  and  far 
to  see  it,  an  old  tabernacle,  the  Ryman  Auditorium,  was 
bought.  What  you  hear  on  the  air  (NBC,  Saturday  nights 
at  10:30  P.M.  EDT)  is  only  a  fraction  of  the  show.  It 
actually  starts  at  8,  goes  on  till  12,  with  the  stomping,  sing- 
ing audience  very  much  a  part  of  the  proceedings. 

"Go«.lp"  Minnie  Poul,  announcer  Loui.  Burl,  Old  Hickory  Sincere:  director  Jock  Stoop 


Rod  Brasfield,  dressed  for  Saturday  main. 
Commercials  fall  to  Old  Hickory  Singers, 


The  stone-paved  old  back  stoop  provides  an  excellent  place 
in  the  sun  for  Donald  and  his  pretty  wife  Dorothy — for  pur- 
poses   of    painting,    labeling    or — very    seldom— just    resting. 


WNON 


0ome  4u*nmefi,  *D<Ht<Ud  *Da*iu 


w: 


Donald  and  Dorothy  go  to  town — Nassai 


rHEN  city  people  go  back  to  nature,  they 
are  likely  to  do  it  on  a  full-time  scale. 
That  was  the  ambition  of  Donald  and 
Dorothy  Dame  from  the  first  time  they  laid 
eyes  on  the  beautiful  farm  home  which  they 
purchased  near  Tanglewood,  New  York — 
and  they're  busy  living  in  that  pattern  now. 

Of  course,  Donald  Dame  has  a  weekly 
singing  stint;  he's  the  tenor  star  of  the 
American  Album  of  Familiar  Music,  heard  at 
9:30,  EDT  on  NBC,  Sunday  nights.  But  on 
weekdays    he's    a    farmer,    heart    and    soul. 

Donald  and  Dorothy — she  was  studying 
voice  when  they  met  at  the  Berkshire  Music 
Festival — have  been  married  eight  years. 
The  farm  is  their  home,  but  they  have  an 
apartment  in  New  York  City  for  the  worst 
of  the  winter  weather  so  that  there'll  be  no 
possibility  of  Donald's  missing  a  program. 

The  Dames  do  most  of  the  chores  on  the 
farm  themselves,,  preserving  and  canning 
their  crops  for  the  winter.  They  raise  every- 
thing suitable  to  the  climate  and  soil  of  their 
part  of  the  country,  and  they  have  the  usual 
assortment  of  farm  animals,  too.  (Donald 
says  that  there's  nothing  like  musical  train- 
ing  to   get  you   in   shape   for  hog-calling!) 


DONALD'S  FARM 


•    do€&  &U  4iK$CK$  CK  t6e  tout 


•  it    is — for    mail    and    for    refreshment? 


It's    no    joke    to    say    that   farm    work 
keeps  Donald's  nose  to  the  grindstone. 


Rest  comes  with  evening — practice  for  Donald,  crocheting 
for  Dorothy.  A  radiator  hides  in  that  decommissioned 
stove   so    it   won't    spoil    the   farm's    Early    American    flavor. 


ft  isn't  all  sowing  and  garnering. 
Yon  need  a  touch  of  the  stonemason 
and    the    plumber   in    you   as    well! 


Petrh-and-carry    is    part    of    the 
rural    living    scheme    of    thing; 

57 


'Mi.-  alone-paved  old  back  sloop  provides  an  excellent  pluce 
in  tin.'  sun  for  Donald  and  his  pretty  wife  Dorothy — for  pur- 
poses   of    painting,   labeling    or — very   seldom — just    resting. 


WN  OM 


gome  Accmmen..  T>on<xtd  "D^u 


DONALD'S  FARM 


ctoei  &U  AiH^ut^cH  t6e  tun 


R.-si  comes  wiih  evening— practice  for  Donald,  crochollno, 
lor  Dorothy.  A  radiator  hides  in  ihui  decommissioned 
stove  s..  it  w».n't  spoil  the  farm's  Early  American  flavor. 


WHEN  city  people  go  back  to  nature,  they 
are  likely  to  do  it  on  a  full-time  scale. 
That  was  the  ambition  of  Donald  and 
Dorothy  Dame  from  the  first  time  they  laid 
eyes  on  the  beautiful  farm  home  which  they 
purchased  near  Tanglewood,  New  York— 
and  they're  busy  living  in  that  pattern 

Of  course,  Donald  Dame  has  a  weekly 
singing  stint;  he's  the  tenor  star  of  the 
American  Album  of  Familiar  Music,  heard  at 
9:30,  EDT  on  NBC,  Sunday  nights.  But  on 
weekdays  he's  a  farmer,  heart  and  soul 
Donald  and  Dorothy — she  was  studying 
voice  when  they  met  at  the  Berkshire  Music 
Festival — have  been  married  eight  years. 
The  farm  is  their  home,  but  they  have  an 
apartment  in  New  York  City  for  the  worst 
of  the  winter  weather  so  that  there'll  be  no 
possibility  of  Donald's  missing  a  program. 

The  Dames  do  most  of  the  chores  on  the 
farm  themselves,,  preserving  and  canning 
their  crops  for  the  winter.  They  raise  every- 
thing suitable  to  the  climate  and  soil  of  their 
part  of  the  country,  and  they  have  the  usual 
assortment  of  farm  animals,  too.  (Donald 
says  that  there's  nothing  like  musical  train- 
ing to  get  you   in  shape  for  hog-calling" 


II  isn't  nil  Bowing  and  garnering. 
Yon  need  n  touch  of  the  stonemason 
and   the   plumber   in   you   aa    well! 


joke    to    soy    thai    farm    work 
keeps  Donald's  nose  to  the  grindstone. 


I 


S 


1 


M 


¥ 


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Jt 


S 


■ 


fcr. 


* 


* 


*'  j^Q-W  _ 


&U> 


* 


ill 


LONG  cool  drinks  always  hit  the  spot  in  hot  weather.  The 
ones  shown  in  the  picture  are  all  old-fashioned  lemon- 
ade. Try  this  little  trick  for  making  them  colorful.  Pour 
any  left-over  juice  from  the  maraschino  cherries  into  a 
freezing  tray  of  the  refrigerator.  Freeze  it  until  it  is  solid 
ice.  Do  the  same  with  grape  juice — the  result  will  be  a  deep 
red-purple  ice  cube.  Freeze  leftover  lemonade  or  limeade 
for  yellow  and  green  cubes.  Delicious  chunks  of  orange  ice 
can  be  made  by  freezing  fresh  orange  juice.  Try  it  with 
grapefruit,  raspberry,  strawberry  or  apple  juice.  These 
fruit  flavor  combinations  will  make  your  lemonade  look 
and  taste  "out  of  this  world." 

Here  are  favorite  summer  coolers  from  my  recipe  file. 
They  will  do  double  duty  for  any  party  or  outdoor  refresh- 
ment this  time  of  year.  And  I've  suggested  some  new  ways 
to  serve  our  old  favorite  ice  cream.  Included  are  a  couple 
of  recipes  for  homemade  ice  cream,  too.  You  can  mix  them 
in  the  morning,  go  to  the  beach  all  day,  come  home  and 
find  them  ready  to  eat. 

Old  Fashioned   Lemonade 


6  lemons  (about  1  cup  juice) 
Vn  cud  sugar 


V2  cup  hot  water 
3V2  cups  cold  water 


Squeeze  juice  from  lemons;  strain  if  desired.  Combine 
sugar  and  hot  water.  Heat  and  stir  until  sugar  is  dissolvec1 
Cool  and  add  to  lemon  juice.  Add  the  cold  water.  Add 
more  sugar  if  you  like  it  sweeter.  Pour  over  cracked  ice 
in  a  tall  glass.  Garnish  with  a  few  mint  leaves  if  you  have 
some  growing  in  the  yard.  Nice  for  garnish  also,  is  a  slice 
of  orange,  lemon,  fresh  berries  or  a  stick  of  fresh  pine- 
apple.  Makes  6  tall  glasses. 

Iced  Coffee 

Prepare  coffee  making  it  twice  as  strong  as  usual.  Pour 
the  hot  coffee  over  cracked  ice  in  tall  glasses  or  over  a 
large  piece  of  ice  in  a  large  pitcher.  Serve  it  plain  or  with 
cream,  or  whipped  cream  and  sugar,  or  serve  it  black. 
Left-over  coffee  may  be  frozen  and  used  as  ice  cubes,  if 
you  like  your  iced  coffee  strong. 


All  on  a   summer's  day:   old- 
fashioned  lemonade  with  a  new  idea 
in  each  glass,  and  extra- 
luscious  banana  splits.   With  such 
cold  comfort  at  hand,  let  the  sun  shine! 


Iced  Tea 

Prepare  strong  tea,  using  1%  teaspoons  of  tea  leaves  for 
each  cup  of  water.  Boil  the  water  and  pour  it  over  the  tea 
leaves;  allow  to  stand  5  minutes.  Strain  and  discard  the 
leaves.  Pour  the  hot  tea  over  cracked  ice  in  tall  glasses. 
Iced  tea,  cooled  quickly,  is  clearer  and  more  sparkling 
than  tea  which  is  cooled  slowly.  Garnish  each  glass  with  a 
slice  of  lemon  or  orange.  Left-over  iced  tea  may  be  frozen 
into  cubes  and  used  in  the  iced  tea  instead  of  plain  ice. 

Fruit    Fizzes 

Combine  an  equal  amount  of  fruit  juice  and  gingerale  or 
soda  water.  Add  sugar  if  necessary.  Add  the  soda  or  gin- 
gerale just  before  serving  and  pour  over  ice  cubes. 


Orange    Milk    Shake 


2J/2  cups  orange  juice 
1V2  cups  grapefruit  juice 
1  cup  evaporated  milk 


1  teaspoon  salt 
14  teaspoon  almond  extract 
V4  cup  sugar 


Combine  all  ingredients  and  stir  well.  Chill;  serve  over 
cracked  ice  in   six  tall  glasses.    (Continued  on  page  76) 


Bv 


KATE   SMITH 


1  ■:■-■•■    ■'■'■■■■■,/•. 

RADIO 


RADIO    MIRROR    FOOD    COUNSELOR 

Listen  each  Monday  through  Friday  at  12  Noon 
when  Kate  Smith  Speaks,  on  the  Mutual  network 


MIRROR        FOR        BETTER        LIVING 


59 


When  a  girl  marries 


there  are  two   faces  to  the 


silver  coin  in  her 


n 

M 

60 


slipper.    One  face  is  love; 


the  other  may  be  tragedy 


!tu<lio  Mirror's  Read- 
er Bonus  brings  you, 
for  the  first  time  in 
story  form,  an  im- 
portant chapter  from 
When  a  Girl  Marries, 
just  as  it  was  first 
heard  on  the  air 
(Mon.-Fri.,  5  P.M. 
EDTonNBCstations). 


THE  sun  rose  red  and  hot  over  the 
fields  of  Beechwood.  Scarcely  a 
breath  of  air  stirred;  the  land  was 
still  under  its  burden  of  heat.  Even  the 
corn,  waxing  fat  and  rich  in  the  Davis 
field,  stood  with  drooping  leaves,  look- 
ing deceptively  lifeless. 

Inside  the  old  white  farmhouse,  Lilly 
applied  the  back  of  her  hand  to  her 
moist  mahogany  brow,  and  groaned 
as  she  started  up  the  stairs  in  search  of 
young  Sammy. 

"Lord  save  us,"  she  muttered,  "but 
this  is  sure  goin'  to  be  a  scorcher.  I'm 
most  dead  on  my  feet,  and  I  ain't  even 
started  yet.  Burned  my  bread,  broke  a 
dish,  upset  the  coffee — and  now  that 
boy  don't  come  when  I  call  him.  If 
that  ain't  enough  things  to  make  me 
sure  the  evil  spirits  has  taken  over  these 
diggin's,  my  name  ain't  Lilly.  Sammy  I" 
She  raised  her  voice,  calling. 

Sammy's  door  was  closed.  There 
wasn't  a  sound  from  within.  "Sammy!" 
Lilly  called  once  more,  and  opened  the 
door. 

Sammy  was  sitting  on  the  floor,  his 
paint  book  before  him.  He  turned  upon 
Lilly  a  look  of  elaborate  surprise.  "Did 
you  call  me,  Lilly?" 

"Call  you!"  Lilly  exploded.  "I  should 
think  I  been  callin'  you!  What  you 
doin',  Sammy  Davis,  sittin'  there  on  the 
floor  when  you  know  it's  breakfast 
time — " 

"I'm  painting,"  said  Sammy. 

"I  sees  that,"  Lilly  retorted.  "But 
how  come  you  has  lost  interest  in 
breakfast?  You  come  right  downstairs 
and  get  your  cereal  and  cream — " 

His  shoulders  moved  uncertainly,  but 
he  remained  where  he  was.  Lilly 
started  for  him,  and  stopped  as  the  tele- 
phone rang  downstairs.  She  groaned. 
"Land  sakes,  now  the  phone's  startin' 


■'."■. 
Reunion  at  Beechwood:  Baby  Hope  and  little  Sammy  with  Harry  Davis  (played  by  John  Raby)  and  Joan  (played  by  Mary  Jane  Higby), 


in—" 

"Aren't  you  going  to  answer  it, 
Lilly?"  asked  Sammy  hopefully. 

'"Course,"  said  Lilly,  turning.  "And 
you  make  tracks  for  your  breakfast — " 

"I've  got  it,  Lilly."  Mother  Davis' 
voice  floated  up  the  stairs. 

"All  right,  Mrs.  Davis.  See — "  Lilly 
said  accusingly  to  Sammy,  "you  keep 
me  from  my  work  and  make  your  poor 
grandma  run  to  answer  the  phone  on  a 
hot  morning  like  this.  Now,  is  you  com- 
ing or  is  you  ain't?" 

She  reached  for  him,  and  he  rose 
slowly,  his  eyes  fixed  on  her  face.  Lilly 
gaped.   "Sammy  Davis!" 

"I  spilled  it,"  Sammy  explained. 

"I  sees  you  did.  But  what — "  She 
touched  a  plump  brown  fingertip  to  the 
sticky  mess  on  the  rug.  "That  ain't  plain 
water  paint,  Sammy  Davis.  It's  some- 
thing you  mixed  up." 

"I  mixed  some  paint  I  found  in  the 
barn  with  mine,"  said  Sammy  help- 
fully. "I  wanted  it  to  stick.  It  spilled 
under  me.  It  was  an  accident,  Lilly,  an' 
— an'  you  said  accidents  can  happen." 

"I  ain't  beliein'  that,"  said  Lilly. 
"But  you  don't  has  to  sit  in  it,  does 
you?  Sammy  Davis,  sometimes  I  think 
you  is  just  a  bad  boy!" 

Sammy's  lips  quivered,  and  Lilly  felt 
an  answering  contraction  in  her  own 
heart.  "I  didn't  mean  to,  Lilly — on  a 
stack  of  Bibles." 

Lilly  caught  her  breath.  Her  arms 
went  around  him,  and  now  there  was 
paint  not  only  on  the  floor  and  on 
Sammy's  pants,  but  on  her  clean  apron 
as  well.  She  couldn't  stand  it,  hearing 
the  little  boy  repeat  the  phrase  he'd 
picked  up  when  he'd  testified  at  his 
father's  trial.  It  wasn't  right  for  a  child 
to  have  to  remember  a  thing  like  that;  it 
just  proved  a  saying  her  own  momma 


used  to  have  about  the  big  black  bird 
of  trouble  throwing  his  shadow  before 
and  behind. 

Lilly  knew  all  about  the  black  bird  of 
trouble.  Seemed  like,  lately,  he'd  made 
the  Davis  farm  at  Beechwood  his  regu- 
lar roosting  place.  Holding  little 
Sammy  tightly  in  her  arms,  Lilly  let 
her  mind  go  back  over  the  past  few 
months.  First  there  had  been  Betty 
MacDonald,  Mr.  Harry's  secretary — the 
whole  mess  of  trouble  had  begun,  Lilly 
reminded  herself,  when  that  Betty  had 
fallen  in  love  with  Mr.  Harry.  She 
was  the  wilful  kind  of  girl  who 
wouldn't  take  no  for  an  answer,  and 
she'd  done  her  best  to  wreck  the  mar- 
riage of  Miss  Joan  and  Mr.  Harry  and 
ruin  the  lives  of  their  best  friends,  too. 
Why,  Miss  Joan  had  even  packed  up 
her  things  and  taken  herself  and  little 
Sammy  back  to  her  mother's  place  in 
Stanwood! 

Poor  Irma  Cameron,  Miss  Joan's  best 
friend  who  lived  down  the  road  a  piece 
— everything  had  been  going  fine  in  her 
life,  too,  until  Betty  MacDonald  ap- 
peared on  the  scene.  Seemed  like 
everything  that  woman  touched  turned 
out  terrible.  Miss  Irma  was  in  love 
with  Steve  Skidmore — had  been  for 
goodness  knows  how  long.  And  then 
didn't  Steve  go  and  fall  in  love  with 
that  MacDonald  hussy,  and  didn't  she 
marry  him,  just  so's  she  could  be  near 
Mr.  Harry!  Miss  Irma's  heart  was  like 
to  break,  Lilly  recalled,  shaking  her 
head  dolefully. 

Just  about  the  only  good  thing  Betty 
MacDonald  ever  did  was  the  very  last 
thing  she  did.  She'd  given  her  life  for 
young  Sammy — snatched  him  from  the 
path  of  a  truck,  and  been  killed  doing  it. 
For  that  one  piece  of  goodness,  Lilly 
was     grateful    to     her.      She     hugged 


Sammy  tighter,  remembering. 

Well,  then,  it  looked  like  things  were 
going  to  settle  down  and  be  peaceable — 
and  then  what  happened?  Just  as  if 
Betty  MacDonald's  ghost  had  come  back 
from  the  grave  to  haunt  them  all,  that's 
what  it  seemed  like — because  didn't 
her  cousin  Betty  Scofield  turn  up  in 
Beechwood,  and  wasn't  she  the  dead 
spit  and  image  of  the  first  Betty,  both 
in  her  looks  and  in  her  heart!  That 
was  right  about  the  time  Sammy's 
sister,  Hope,  was  born,  and  Miss  Joan 
in  the  hospital  and  all. 

Good,  kind  Mr.  Harry,  always  rerdy 
to  believe  the  best  of  everyone,  always 
willing  to  lend  a  hand  to  people,  tried 
to  help  Betty  Scofield,  who  told  him 
she  was  in  trouble.  And  what  did  he 
get  for  his  goodness?  He  got  himself 
charged  with  murdering  her,  that's 
what!  Lilly  shuddered,  remembering 
that  awful  day  when  the  police  had 
found  Betty,  strangled,  in  the  Davises' 
barn,  and  the  worse  days  that  followed, 
when  Mr.  Harry  was  on  trial  for  his 
life. 

Finally,  Steve  Skidmore  had  con- 
fessed to  the  murder,  in  time  to  save 
Mr.  Harry.  But  not  in  time  to  keep 
Miss  Joan  from  risking  her  life.  Trying 
to  help  Mr.  Harry,  she'd  tracked  down 
a  man  Betty  had  known,  and  that  man, 
hoping  to  keep  Miss  Joan  from  making 
public  the  things  she'd  found  out  about 
him,  had  kidnapped  her.  The  car  in 
which  he  was  taking  her  away  had 
been  in  an  accident,  and  Miss  Joan  had 
landed  up  in  the  hospital  again. 

If  there  wasn't  a  potful  of  trouble 
for  you,  Lilly  wanted  to  know  what  you 
did  call  trouble.  But  now  things  were 
straightening  out,  at  least  a  little,  and 
Lilly  had  her  fingers  tightly  crossed. 
Mr.  Harry  was  safe,  free  of  the  murder 


61 


"I    GIVE    MY    TROTH" 


charges.  But  Miss  Joan  was  still  in  the 
hospital.  And  their  friends  Irma  Cam- 
eron and  Steve  Skidmore  were  in  prison 
— Mr.  Skidmore,  who  had  confessed  to 
the  murder,  and  Mrs.  Cameron  who  was 
being  held  as  a  material  witness,  be- 
cause she  had  shielded  him.  That  left 
just  old  Lilly  and  Mr.  Harry's  mother 
to  watch  and  worry  and  take  care  of 
Sammy  and  baby  Hope  at  the  farm. 

Once  again,  Lilly  shook  her  head, 
muttering,  and  Sammy  stirred  in  her 
arms.  "What  did  you  say,  Lilly?"  he 
wanted  to  know. 

"I  said—"  Lilly  gave  herself  a  little 
shake— "I  said  you're  going  straight 
into  the  bathtub  and  you  ain't  goin'  to 
move  until  Lilly  gets  some  turpentine 
and  sees  how  she  can  clean  up  this 
xxiess — " 

"Lilly!"  Mother  Davis'  voice  sang  out. 

"Yes'm— "  Hastily,  Lilly  popped 
Sammy  into  the  bathtub,  started  down 
the  stairs.  Mother  Davis  met  her  half- 
way. The  older  woman's  face  was  white, 
radiant;  she  trembled  with  excitement. 
"Lilly,  she's  all  right!  She  just  talked 
to  me  herself!  Her  injury  wasn't 
serious — it  was  mostly  shock  after  being 
carried  off  by  that  awful  Nobel  man." 

"Not  Miss  Joan!"  Lilly  gasped.  "Not 
my  Miss  Davis-honey!  Oh,  praise  the 
Lord — " 

"And,  Lilly,  she's  coming  home!  Dr. 
Wiggan's  letting  her  go  to  her  mother's 
house  this  afternoon,  and  tomorrow 
she'll  be  coming  home  to  us!" 

"I  can't  believe  it."  Lilly  crossed  her 
hands  on  her  breast,  prayerfully.  "Oh, 
Lord,  thank  You — things  will  be  just 
what  they  used  to  be.  We'll  be  goin'  on 
picnics  down  by  the  brook,  and  we'll  be 
goin'  down  the  road  to — "  She  stopped. 
She  had  almost  said,  "We'll  be  goin' 
down  the  road  to  Mrs.  Cameron's  farm." 
But  they  wouldn't,  like  as  not.  Her  eyes 
met  Mother  Davis'  eyes,  and  the  two 
faces,  the  plump  brown  one  and  the 
lined  white  one,  became  grave.  No, 
things  wouldn't  be  the  same,  not  with 
Joan's  dearest  friends  paying  for  the 
grim  tragedy  that  had  taken  place  in  the 
barn.  That's  what  would  hurt  her  most. 
She  would  never  pass  the  Cameron's 
without  feeling  it.  .  .  . 

"We'll  have  to  do  all  we  can  to  help 
her."  said  Mother  Davis,  as  if  they  had 
exchanged  their  thoughts  aloud.  Lilly 
nodded. 

"I  got  to  start  cleaning,"  she  said 
briskly.  "If  Miss  Davis-honey's  coming 
home  tomorrow,  I  got  to  have  every- 
thing just  as  perfect  as  it  can  be." 

In  the  Stanwood  hospital,  Joan  re- 
turned to  her  room  on  Dr.  Wiggan's  arm. 
She  was  the  healthiest  looking  patient 
he'd  ever  seen,  the  doctor  thought;  her 
cheeks  were  pink  and  her  eyes  were 
bright,   fairly  dancing  with  happiness. 

"Thank  you,  Dr.  Wiggan,"  she  was 
saying,  "for  letting  me  telephone.  Thank 
you  for  taking  such  good  care  of  me 
and  for  letting  me  go  home.  Thank 
you — "  At  the  door  of  her  room  she 
stopped  short.  "Where's  Harry?  He 
was  here  just  a  minute  ago — " 

A  pretty  little  student  nurse  came  up 
to  them.  "Oh,  Dr.  Wiggan,  a  policeman 
called  Mr.  Davis  into  that  room  where 
they've  got  Mr.  Nobel — "  And  then 
Harry  himself  came  down  the  corridor. 
Joan  couldn't  read  his  expression,  ex- 
cept that  it  was  tense  with  barely  con- 
M      trolled  excitement. 

"I  called  home,  Harry,"  she  said,  "and 
told  your  mother  the  good  news.  And 
62 


Dr.  Wiggan  says  that  I  can  leave  the 
minute  you're  ready  to  take  me — " 

"Good,"  said  Harry.  "I've  good  news 
for  you,  too.  Dr.  Wiggan,  I'd  like  to 
talk  with  her  alone,  if  you  don't  mind. 
You'll  hear  all  about  it  later." 

"Go  ahead,"  the  doctor  smiled.  "Only 
take  it  easy.  Remember,  this  girl's  had 
some  shocks — " 

"This  one  will  do  her  good,"  Harry 
promised.  The  doctor  left,  and  Harry 
led  Joan  to  the  deep  chair  near  the  win- 
dow, drew  another  chair  up  for  himself. 
"Joan,  dear,  it's  about  Steve  and 
Irma — " 

"Oh,   Harry,"   said  Joan  bleakly.    "I 


Mother  Davis   (Marian  Barney). 

forgot  about  them  in  our  own  happi- 
ness. What  are  we  going  to  do  for 
them?" 

"Take  them  home,"  said  Harry. 

"Take  them  home?  How  can  we, 
when — when  Steve — " 

"Steve  didn't  kill  Betty,  Joan." 

"Didn't  kill  her!"  But  she  believed  it 
instantly.  If  she  had  been  asked,  back 
in  the  terrible  days  when  Harry  had 
been  on  trial,  if  Steve  had  killed  Betty 
Scofield,  she  would  have  answered  yes. 
Reason  would  not  have  let  her  do  other- 
wise. Steve  had  been  on  the  scene  at 
the  time.  Sick  in  body  and  mind,  he 
had  confused  Betty  Scofield  with  his 
dead  wife,  Betty,  and  when  Betty  had 
laughed  at  him,  he  had  leaped  at  her 
.  .  .  and  had  run  to  Irma  Cameron,  bab- 
bling madly  that  he  had  just  killed  his 
wife  in  Harry  Davis'  barn.  But  all  the 
while — yes,  all  the  while  Joan  had  been 
begging  Irma  to  surrender  Steve,  to 
bring  him  out  of  hiding  and  persuade 
him  to  give  himself  up — she  had  found 
it  difficult  in  her  heart  to  believe  that 
Steve  Skidmore  could  kill  anyone.  She 
had  believed  it  at  all  only  on  the 
grounds  that  Steve  was  out  of  his  mind 
and  that  his  wife  Betty  had  made  his 
life  a  living  hell. 

"Steve  didn't  kill  her,"  she  repeated. 
"Then  who — " 

"Robert  Nobel,"  said  Harry,  hating  to 
mention  the  name.  "That's  what  they 
called  me  out  to  tell  me.  He's  just  fin- 
ished his  confession." 

"But  it's  impossible,"  said  Joan. 
"Steve  said  that  he  had — " 

"It's  one  of  those  things  you  hear  of 
once  in  a  lifetime,"  said  Harry.  "Robert 
Nobel  had  followed  Betty  to  Beechwood 
because  he  felt  she  had  come  to  me  to 
squeal  about  his  stolen-car  racket. 
She'd  been  delivering  his  cars  for  him — 
that's  how  she  happened  to  be  picked  up 


in  one.  He  was  hiding  behind  the  barn 
when  Steve  struck  her — she  fell  to  the 
ground — and  Nobel  finished  the  job. 
Joan — "  He  put  his  hands  on  her 
shoulders,  steadying  her.  She  was 
trembling  suddenly,  and  very  pale. 

"He  would  have  done  the  same  to 
me,"  she  whispered.    "I  know  it  now." 

"Darling,  you've  got  to  forget  all 
that—" 

She  shook  her  head  blankly.  "He 
would  have,  Harry.  He  killed  his  part- 
ner, you  know — upstairs  in  that  old 
house  he  used  for  an  office.  And  I  was 
right  downstairs  all  the  time — " 

"Darling,  I  do  know,"  said  Harry 
gently.  "We  found  the  man  when  we- 
were  searching  for  you.  And  that's  why 
Nobel  confessed  to  killing  Betty.  He 
knew  that  they'd  get  him  for  the  mur- 
der of  his  partner.  Anyway,  he's  put 
away  for  good,  now." 

Slowly  Joan  returned  to  the  present, 
and  the  color  came  back  to  her  cheeks. 
"Does  Steve  know?"  she  asked. 

"No,  dear.  He  wasn't  expected  to  live, 
you  know."  He  went  on  quickly,  "But 
the  Lieutenant  of  Police  spoke  to  the 
prison  hospital  just  a  few  minutes  ago, 
and  there's  a  good  chance  that  he'll  get 
well." 

"He's  got  to,"  Joan  breathed. 

"I'll  say  he  has,"  Harry  agreed,  "be- 
cause the  authorities  are  going  to  let 
you  tell  him  he's  a  free  man — that  is,  if 
you  want  to." 

"If  I  want  to!  Oh,  Harry,  more  than 
anything  else.  Nothing — now  you're 
safe — would  make  me  happier.  Why 
are  you  looking  at  me  like  that?" 

For  a  moment  he  couldn't  speak, 
couldn't  put  all  he  felt  into  words.  He 
himself  held  nothing  against  Steve  and 
Irma  for  the  part  they  had  played  in 
tangling  his  life,  but  Joan  was  different. 
She  had  suffered  more  than  anyone,  and 
at  a  time  when  she  was  still  weak  and 
tired  after  Hope's  birth.  Besides,  it 
was  always  easier  to  forgive  an  injury 
to  oneself  than  an  injury  to  a  loved  one. 
No,  if  it  had  been  Joan  who'd  sat  in 
prison  while  Steve  refused  to  give  him- 
self up  and  Irma  refused  to  reveal  his 
whereabouts.  .  .  . 

"Because,"  he  said  huskily,  and  took 
her  hand  and  touched  it  to  his  lips, 
"even  if  you  weren't  my  wife,  even  if  I 
didn't  love  you  so  much  I  can't  say  it — 
I'd  still  think  you  were  the  most  won- 
derful person  in  the  world." 

There  was  a  celebration  at  the  Field's 
that  night.  It  was  a  small  celebration — 
just  Mrs.  Field  and  Joan's  gay  and 
lively  younger  sister,  Sylvia,  and  Phil 
Stanley,  who  had  accompanied  Harry 
on  the  frantic  search  following  Joan's 
kidnapping,  and  Harry  and  Joan — but 
it  was  a  miracle  to  Joan.  Moonlight 
flooded  the  terrace  outside  the  dining 
room  of  the  lovely  old  house  on  the 
Ridge;  fragments  of  dance  music  drifted 
up  from  the  country  club  down  the 
road,  the  flowers  and  the  silver  and 
the  linen,  and  Nettie  stepping  softly 
about,  serving — all  of  these  things  were 
marvelous  after  the  weeks  of  seeing 
Harry  in  prison,  the  torment  of  his  trial, 
the  ugliness  of  her  own  recent  ex- 
perience with  Robert  Nobel. 

She  touched  Harry's  hand,  her  eyes 
glowing  and  blue  as  the  mound  of  corn- 
flowers on  the  center  of  the  table. 

"You  know,"  she  said  to  all  of  them, 
"I'm  so  happy  that  I — I  feel  as  though 
I'm  going  to  explode." 

"Please  don't,"  begged  Phil,  "you're 
much  too  attractive  as  you  are." 


"I    GIVE    MY    TROTH" 


"Besides,"  Sylvia  chimed  in,  "we've 
just  got  you  back  all  in  one  piece, 
haven't  we,  Mama?" 

Mrs.  Field's  normally  petulant  mouth 
thinned  disapprovingly.  She  had  never 
forgiven  Joan  for  turning  down  Phil 
Stanley,  whose  own  big  house  stood 
next  door  to  the  Fields',  for  an  up- 
from-nothing  nobody  like  Harry  Davis. 
And  although  in  her  heart  she  wanted 
Joan's  happiness  as  much  as  her  own, 
she  couldn't  help  feeling  that  life  would 
be  more  rewarding  if  only,  just  once, 
her  own  dire  predictions  in  regard  to 
Harry  Davis  would  come  true. 

"As  I  see  it,  Sylvia,"  she  reproved  her 
daughter,  "I'd  rather  not  joke  about  the 
thing  that  happened  to  Joan." 

"Mrs.  Field's  very  right,"  said  Harry. 
"It's  too  close  an  incident,  and  too  ter- 
rifying." 

"Thank  you,  Harry,"  said  Joan's 
mother  with  dignity. 

"I'm  guilty,"  Phil  pleaded.  "I'm 
afraid  I  started  all  this  line  of  talk.  But 
I  was  carried  away — it's  something  to 
see  the  two  beautiful  and  popular  Field 
girls  together  again." 

Joan  glanced  at  Harry.  He  was 
laughing;  he  looked  happy  and  at  ease 
— but  did  this  kind  of  talk  still  make 
rr'm  feel  shut  out,  a  little  bit?  He  hadn't 
been  one  of  the  fortunate  lads  who  had 
beaued  the  Field  girls  about  in  their 
fortunate  days,  who  had  called  to  take 
them  dancing  at  the  country  club,  who'd 
come  to  parties  at  the  house.  In  fact,  in 
those  days  Harry  had  been  at  the  house 
only  once — and  that  was  when  he'd 
come  to  ask  her  father  for  a  job  in  his 
law  office,  and  had  blundered  into  the 
party  celebrating  Joan's  engagement 
to  Phil.  That  was  the  night,  too,  when 
she'd  known  she  could  never  marry 
Phil,  dear  as  he  was  to  her,  could  never 
marry  anyone  but  Harry  Davis. 

"I'm  afraid,"  she  said,  "that  it's  Syl 
who  takes  the  honors  for  popularity  at 
this  point.  I'm  just  a  very  contented 
wife  with  two  children,  a  handsome 
husband  she's  very  much  in  love  with, 
and  the  most  beautiful  farm  in  this 
whole,  wide  world." 

Mrs.  Field  suddenly  looked  a  little 
deaf.       Sylvia     laughingly     protested: 

"I'm  not  anything  near  the  butterfly 
you  insinuate,  am  I.  Phil?" 

"Well — "  said  Phil  dubiously,  and 
everyone,  even  Mrs.  Field,  laughed. 

"Oh,  you  meanie,"  mourned  Sylvia. 
"Haven't  I  a  friend  in  the  world?" 

Joan  laughed.  "You  most  certainly 
have,  darling,"  she  said  pointedly. 

"And  no  one,"  said  her  mother, 
"knows  that  better  than  I  with  the  tele- 
phone ringing  every  minute  of  the  day." 

Sylvia  pouted.  "I  think  you're  all 
terrible  to  pick  on  a  poor  lonely  girl 
when  her  husband  isn't  here  to  defend 
her.  I'll  have  you  know  that  I,  too,  am 
a  devoted  wife  and  mother." 

"We  all  know  it,  Sylvia,"  Phil  con- 
soled her.  "The  trouble  is,  you  don't 
look  it  in  the  least." 

In  all  of  a  lifetime,  Joan  thought, 
there  were  few  moments  as  perfect  as 
this.  She  was  with  Harry  and  her 
family  and  her  dear  friend,  Phil;  in  the 
calendar  of  the  future  there  were  only 
two  notations,  and  those  happy  ones — 
going  home  to  Sammy  and  Hope  and 
Lilly,  and  going  to  see  Irma  and  Steve. 
There  was  at  the  moment  nothing  more 
to  wish  for,  nothing  more  to  be  desired. 

"You  know  what  I'd  like,"  she  said 
dreamily,  looking  out  at  the  moonlit 
terrace,  "I'd  like  coffee  on  the  terrace." 


Sylvia  shot  a  glance  at  Phil,  and 
clapped  her  hands  delightedly.  "It's 
exactly  what  we  planned,  isn't  it, 
Mama?" 

Mrs.  Field  nodded,  but  could  not  re- 
frain from  adding,  "Only  if  Joan  is  sure 
she  isn't  overdoing." 

"I  never  felt  better  in  my  life,"  Joan 
assured  her.     "Come  on,  Harry." 

They  strolled  out  to  the  terrace.  Mrs. 
Field  remained  behind  to  speak  to 
Nettie.  Sylvia  and  Phil  paused  just 
inside  the  dining  room  door,  whispering 
and  laughing  under  their  breath. 

"Now  what  are  you  two  up  to?"  Joan 
called.  "Aren't  you  going  to  have  your 
coffee?" 

"In  a  minute,"  Sylvia  answered. 
"We'll  be  right  back."  And  she  dis- 
appeared with  Phil  into  another  part 
of  the  house. 

"What  do  you  suppose — ?"  Harry  be- 
gan. Joan's  hand  closed  upon  his,  car- 
ried it  to  her  cheek  for  an  instant. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said.  "At  this 
moment  I  don't  know  anything  but  that 
I'm  sitting  right  here  beside  you,  that  I 
can  reach  out  and  touch  you  any  time 
I  want  to,  that  there  won't  be  any  more 
days  of  going  to  Summerville  and  just 
seeing  you  for  a  few  minutes  and  then 
having  to  face  the  awful  emptiness  of 
going  home  alone.  .  .  .  It's  awful  to  be 
so  much  in  love  with  your  husband." 

"It  would  be  awful  for  me  if  you 
weren't,"  he  said  soberly. 

"Do  you  suppose  we'll  always  be  this 
way?"  she  asked,  and  he  said  severely, 
"You'd  better  not  change,  young  lady." 

"It  would  be  nice  if  I  didn't,"  said 
Joan.     "I  mean,  Harry,  think  how  ter- 


Irma    (Jeanette   Dowling). 


rible  it  will  be  when  I  get  old  and  de- 
crepit and  constantly  lose  my  eye- 
glasses— " 

"But  think  what  you'll  have  to  put 
up  with  in  me,"  he  teased.  "I'll  have 
gout,  which  will  mean  canes  and  irrita- 
bility. I'll  probably  be  as  bald  as  a 
billiard  ball — " 

She  reached  up  and  touched  his  hair- 
line. Her  voice  was  very  tender. 
"Dearest — you'll  look  very  cute  with  a 
shiny  bald  head." 

"And  you,"  said  Harry,  keeping  his 
own  voice  light  with  difficulty,  "will 
have  to  take  to  carrying  an  out-size 
powder  puff  to  keep  it  from  shining  like 
that  moon  up  there.  We're  going  to  be 
a  beautiful  pair  of  ruins,  my  dear." 

"Just,"  she  said  with  a  catch  in  her 
breath,   "so   that  we're  ruins  together, 


my  dear.    Oh,  my  darling — " 

They  heard  her  mother  and  Nettie  in 
the  background;  Harry  glanced  quickly 
around  before  leaning  over  to  kiss  her. 
"I  feel  wicked,  kissing  you  under  the 
moon,"  he  said.  "Like  a  school  boy. 
One  more  before  your  ma  gets  here — " 

It  began  as  a  light  kiss,  a  romantic 
kiss,  compounded  of  moonlight  and 
summer  and  the  music  from  the  or- 
chestra at  the  country  club  and  the 
honeysuckle  at  the  terrace's  edge.  Then 
suddenly  Joan  was  aware  that  the 
pounding  of  her  own  heart  had  shut 
out  everything  else;  she  moved  her 
head  a  fraction  of  an  inch,  spoke  with 
her  lips  almost  upon  his. 

"My  darling — do  you  realize  how  long 
we've  been  separated?" 

"Do  I  realize!     Joan—" 

"Put  the  service  here,  please,  Nettie," 
said  Mrs.  Field,  coming  through  the 
double  doors.  Joan  and  Harry  sat  back 
as  if  hands  had  reached  out  and  parted 
them.  Mrs.  Field  glanced  at  them,  said 
irritably,  "Now  where  in  the  world  are 
Sylvia  and  Phil?  Where  do  you  sup- 
pose they  could  have  gone?" 

"They're  up  to  some  sort  of  foolish- 
ness, you  can  bet  your  boots  on  that." 
Joan  glanced  at  Harry,  and  was  seized 
with  an  impulse  to  giggle  at  the  false 
heartiness  in  his  voice.  She  herself 
didn't  try  to  speak,  not  when  her  heart 
was  still  pounding  away  out  of  control. 
Then  she  heard  smothered  laughter 
from  within  the  house,  and  Sylvia  and 
Phil  joined  them,  the  stamp  of  con- 
spiracy upon  them,  trying  very  hard 
to  appear  casual  and  natural. 

"Sylvia,"  her  mother  complained,  "I 
hope  this  isn't  one  of  your  practical 
jokes.  I'm  not  in  any  condition  to  be 
frightened  or  anything  like  that  to- 
night." 

"Mama — "  Sylvia  patted  her  shoul- 
der—  "you've  been  an  angel.  You 
haven't  a  thing  to  worry  about."  But 
in  spite  of  herself,  she  giggled. 

"What  are  you  up  to?"  asked  Joan, 
and  Harry  said,  sounding  suddenly  like 
a  lawyer,  "You're  a  little  too  quiet  to 
suit  me,  Phil." 

"I  am  not,"  said  Phil  with  dignity. 
Sylvia  giggled  again,  clapped  a  hand 
over  her  mouth.     "Listen!" 

The  music  at  the  club  had  stopped. 
Now  it  started  again  a  little  louder  so 
that  the  strains  reached  them  clearly 
and  true. 

"For  the  love  of  Pete,"  said  Harry 
softly,  and  Joan  straightened. 

"Oh,  Harry — I  Adore  You.  It's  our 
song,  the  one  you  wrote  for  me." 

"We  got  Davie  Burt  over  at  the  club 
to  play  it  for  you,"  Sylvia  explained  in 
a  stage  whisper.  "Not  that  he  minded. 
It's  a  beautiful  song." 

Mrs.  Field  sighed  with  relief.  "Thank 
heaven!  At  least  it  doesn't  scare  one 
out  of  a  year's  growth." 

"How  about  it.  Joan?"  said  Phil  softly. 
"It's  a  perfect  setting.  Moonlight  and 
honeysuckle — " 

"I  can't,"  said  Joan.  "I  can't  sing  it 
now."  It  was  wonder  enough  that  she 
could  speak,  so  swollen  was  her  heart 
with  a  happiness  that  was  almost  pain. 

"I  wish  you  could,"  said  Harry,  and 
she  found  that  she  had  a  voice  after  all. 
She  lifted  her  head;  the  words  that 
were  written  forever  upon  her  heart 
poured  out  on  the  melody  whole  and 
true  and  haunting. 

Watching  his  wife.   Harry  was  con-      m 
scious  of  a  constriction  in  his  chest,  a 
sudden,  almost  fear-  (Cont'd onpage 70) 

63 


64 


AH  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  DAYLIGHT  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  DAYLIGHT  TIME.  Subtract  One  Hour 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Words  and  Music 

People's  Church 
Tone  Tapestries 

White  Rabbit  Line 

News 

E.  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Bible  Highlights 

Voices  Down  The 
Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform  ' 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Howard  K.  Smith 
As  Others  See  Us 
Salt  Lake  Tabernacle 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Choral  Music 

Texas  Jim  Robertson 

Invitation  to  Learning 

12:15 

12:30 

Eternal  Light 

Lutheran  Hour 

People's  Platform 

12:45 

On  Trial 

1:00 

America  United 

William  L.  Shirer 

Sam  Pettengill 

Doorway  To  Life 

1:15 

Mutual  Music  Box 

Stewart  Alsop,  News 

1:30 

Chicago  Round  Table 

Music 

National  Vespers 

Tell  It  Again 

1:45 

2:00 

RFD  America 

Army  Air  Force 

This  Week  Around 

You  Are  There 

2:15 

Show 

the  World 

2:30 

Robert  Merrill 

Bill  Cunningham 

Mr.  President 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 

2:45 

Veteran's  Information 

Drama 

Elmo  Roper 

3:00 

Eddy  Howard 

Ernie  Lee's  Omega 

Johnny  Thompson 

CBS  Symphony 

3:15 

Show 

The  Almanac 

Orch. 

3:30 

One  Man's  Family 

Juvenile  Jury 

Sammy  Kaye 

3:45 

4:00 

The  Quiz  Kids 

House  of  Mystery 

Speak  Up  America 

4:15 

Thinking  Allowed 

4:30 

News 

True  Detective 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

Living— 1948 

5:00 

Ford  Show 

Under  Arrest 

Superstition 

Janette  Davis 

5:15 

Here's  to  You 

5:30 

What  Makes  You 

Carle  Comes  Calling 

5:45 

Tick? 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Hollywood  Star 
Preview 

Those  Websters 
Nick  Carter 

Drew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 

Family  Hour 

The  Pause  That  Re- 
freshes on  the  Air 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Band  Wagon 

Sherlock  Holmes 

Behind  the  Front 
Page 

1  Love  Adventure 
Johnny  Fletcher 

Gene  Autry 
Blondie 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Robert  Shaw's 

Chorale 
Fred  Allen 

A.  L.  Alexander 

Jimmie  Fidler 
Twin  Views  of  News 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Man  Called  X 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Manhattan  Merry- 
Go- Round 
American  Album 

Meet  Me  at  Parky's 
It's  A  Living 

Walter  Winchell 
Louella  Parsons 

Catch  Me  If  You  Can 
Strike  It  Rich 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Horace  Heidt 

Voice  of  Strings 

Latin  American 
Serenade 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Shorty  Bell  with 

Mickey  Rooney 
Escape 

S  -who  always  looks 
as  well  a*  she  listens  when  she  in- 
terviews her  ABC  luncheon  celehrities. 


12:00 
12:15 


12:30 
12:45 


1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 


2:00 
2:15 
2:30 

2:45 


3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 


4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 


5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 


FRANKIE  CARLE~whose  program, 
Carle  Comes  Calling,  is  sumr>er  listen- 
ing on  CBS,  Sundays  at  5:30  P.M.,  EDT, 
began  to  lead  a  dance  band  when  he 
was  only  fifteen.  He  pla>  „d  next  with 
Mai  Hallett,  then  with  Horace  Heidt; 
then  started  an  orchestra  of  his  own. 
He  has  made  many  recordings,  the 
latest  of  which  is  a  composition  of 
his  own,  "I  Don't  Want  to  Meet  Any 
More  People— I'm  Satisfied  With  You!" 


K*X 

1»jB  ■[■ 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 
York 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Hilltop  House 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Kate's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 


U.  S.  Navy  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 


Double  or  Nothing 

The  Story  of  Holly 

Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 


Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 


When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 


Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 


U.  S.  Service  Band 


Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 


Queen  For  A  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 


Red  Hook  31 


Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 


Adventure  Parade 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 


Welcome  Travelers     Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 


Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 


Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 


Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 


Treasury  Band  Show 


Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 


Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 


Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 

Evelyn  Winters 


Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 


Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 


Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  V  Abner 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 


8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 


9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 


John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 


Sunoco  News 


Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 


H.  V.  Kaltenborn 


Cavalcade  of  America 
Voice  of  Firestone 


Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  I.  Q. 


Contented  Program 
Fred  Waring 


Local  Programs 


Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 


The  Falcon 


Charlie  Chan 
Billy  Rose 


Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Quiet  Please 


Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Dance  Orch. 


Local  Programs 


Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 


Sound  Off 

Stars  in  the  Night 


Tomorrow's  Tops 
Sammy  Kaye 


Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 


Eric  Sevareid 
In  My  Opinion 
The  Chicagoans 
Lowell  Thomas 


Beulah 
Jack  Smith 


Inner  Sanctum 
Talent  Scouts 


Lux  Radio  Theater 


My  Friend  Irma 
Screen  Guild  Players 


DOROTHY  KIRSTEN^the  Metropol- 
ian Opera  soprano  who  shares  the 
spotlight  with  Nelson  Eddy  on  the  sum- 
mer Music  Hall,  NBC,  Thursdays  at 
9:(m,vP.M.,  EDT.  During  the  past  sea- 
son, when  these  operas  were  revived 
at  the  Metropolitan  and  in  San  Fran- 
cisco, she  sang  with  great  success  the 
roles  in  "Louise"  and  in  "The  Love 
of  Three  Kings"  which  had  long  been 
favorites   of  her  mentor,  Grace  Moore. 


1 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine Of  The  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Hilltop  House 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Kate's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst.  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

News 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Hilltop  House 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
Kate's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Maione 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Story  of  Holly  Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  V  Abner 

12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  IValone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 

2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Story  of  Holly 

Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 

The  Martin  Block 
Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom     • 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
The  Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
8:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Talks 

The  Chicagoans 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Adrian  Rollini  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Alvin  Heifer 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 
Jack  Smith 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Dennis  Day 

Special  Agent 

High  Adventure 
Billy  Rose 

Mayor  of  The  Town 
On  Stage  America 

American  Melody 

Hour 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Tex  and  Jinx 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Racket  Smashers 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Go  For  the  House 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 

Rexall  Summer 
Theater 

Opinion-Aire 
California  Melodies 

Comedy  Writers 

Show 
Gordon  MacRae 

The  Whistler 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Frontiers  of  Science 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

The  Chicagoans 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith 

7:30 

Lennie  Herman 
Quintet 

News 

Green  Hornet  Drama 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

8:00 

Dinah  Shore,  Harry 
James  and  Johnny 

Mysterious  Traveler 

Youth  Asks  the 
Government 

Big  Town 

8:15 

Mercer 

Edwin  D.  Cantham 

8:30 

Carmen  Cavallaro 

Officio!  Detective 

America's  Town 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

9:00 

Adventures  of  the 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Thin  Man 

Radio  Newsreel 

Berkshire  Music 

9:30 

Call  the  Police 

Gregory  Hood 

Festival 

9:45 

10:00 

Meet  Corliss  Archer 

Public  Defender 

Let  Freedom  Ring 

Studio  One 

10:15 

10:30 

Red  Skelton 

Dance  Orchestra 

It's  In  The  Family 

SANTOS  ORTEGA  —whom  you  have 
heard  variously  as  Charlie  Chan,  Nero 
Wolfe,  Perry  Mason,  Bulldog  Drum- 
mond,  Inspector  Queen  and  Commis- 
sioner Weston,  has  now  added  Roger 
Kilgore,  Public  Defender,  to  his  gallery 
of  criminologists  and  is  heard  on  MBS's 
program  of  that  name,  Tuesday  nights 
at  10:30,  EDT.  New  York-born  Ortega 
had  to  fake  a  Latin  accent  to  get  his 
first     radio     role,     twelve     years     ago. 


65 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  for  You 
Hilltop  House 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Katie's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

DORIS  McWHIRT— was  eight  when 
she  first  broadcast,  down  in  Oklahoma. 
At  fourteen,  she  understudied  Luise 
Rainer  in  the  Washington,  D.  C,  Civic 
Theatre's  production  of  "St.  Joan." 
Now,  twenty-two,  a  veteran  of  many 
daytime  serials  and  evening  dramatic 
programs,  she's  heard  on  True  Detective 
Mysteries,  over  Mutual,  Sundays  at 
4:30  P.M.,  EDT,  and  proves  she's  still 
Texan   by    wearing    high-heeled    boots! 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Story  of  Holly*  Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  for  a  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  a  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Of  Men  and  Books 

6:30 

Local  Program 

Local  Programs 

The  Chicagoans 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith 

7:30 

Lawrence  Week 

News 

Henry  Morgan  Show 

7:45 

Inside  of  Sports 

8:00 

Lucky  Partners 

Front  Page 

The  F.B.I,  in  Peace 

8:15 

and  War 

8:30 

Local  Programs 

Talent  Hunt 

Criminal  Casebook 

Mr.  Keen 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

9:00 

Nelson  Eddy-Dorothy 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Willie  Piper 

Dick  Haymes 

9:15 

Kirsten 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Jack  Carson  and 

Revere  Revue 

Candid  Microphone 

Crime  Photographer 

9:45 

Eve  Arden 

Background  For 
Stardom 

10:00 

Bob  Hawk  Show 

Family  Theatre 

Boxing  Bouts 

Reader's  Digest 

10:15 

Radio  Edition 

10:30 

The  First  Nighter 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  for  You 
Hilltop  House 
David  Harum 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Katie's  Daughter 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst.  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Campus  Salute 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Story  of  Holly  Sloan 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  for  a  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

Double  or  Nothing 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 
Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Treasury  Bandstand 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


66 


FLETCHER  MARKLE— is  producer, 
director  and  frequently  a  featured  actor 
on  CBS's  Studio  One  series,  Tuesdays 
at  10:00  P.M.,  EDT.  This  twenty-seven- 
year-old  Canadian  has  recently  been 
spending  his  spare  evenings  and  week- 
ends directing  his  first  American  movie, 
"The  Vicious  Circle,"  starring  Fran- 
chot  Tone.  His  initial  American  radio 
work  was  three  scripts  for  Columbia 
Workshop,   two   of   which   he   directed. 


6:00 
6:15 

6:30 

6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Report  from  the 

United  Nations 
Songs  By  Jean 

McKenna 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Mary  Osborn  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 
Jack  Smith 

8:00 
7:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Cities  Service  Band 

of  America 
Can  You  Top  This 

There's  Always  A 

Woman 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 
Billy  Rose 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 
Danny  Thomas 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

People  Are  Funny 
Waltz  Time 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Morgan,  Ameche, 

Langford 
Adventures  of  Ozzie 

and  Harriet 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Mystery  Theater 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Tex  Beneke 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

Phil  Baker 
Spotlight  Revue 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurleigti 
Practical  Gardner 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Renfro  Valley  Folks 
Garden  Gate 
Washington  Wives 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Frank  Merriwell 
Archie  Andrews 

Bill  Harrington 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

This  Is  For  You 
Johnny  Thompson 
Ho  lywood  Headlines 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
house 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Land  of  the  Lost 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Arthur  Barriault 
Public  Affairs 

Coffee  With  Congress 

Misc.  Programs 
This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 
Pro  Arte  Quartet 

Junior  Junction 
American  Farmer 

Theatre  of  Today 
Stars  Over  Hollywood 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Edmond  Tomlinson 
Report  From  Europe 

Alan  Lomas 
Dance  On  h 

Maggi  McNellis, 

Herb  Sheldon 

Speaking  of  Songs 

Grand  Central  Sta. 
County  Fair 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Music  For  The 

Moment 
Salute  to  Veterans 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Fascinating  Rhythm 
Hitching  Post  Variety 

Give  and  Take 
Country  Journal 

3:00 
3:15 

3:30 
3:45 

Local  Programs 

Dance  Orch. 
Sports  Parade 

Piano  Playhouse 

ABC  Symphony 
Orch. 

Report  from  Overseas 
Adventures  in 

Science 
Cross-Section  U.S.A. 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Doctors  Today 
First  Piano  Quartet 

Horse  Race 
Charles  Slocum 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

Racing 

Stan  Dougherty 

Presents 
Make  Way  For 

Youth 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 

5:45 

Swanee  River  Boys 
Lassie  Show 
Dr.  1.  Q.  Jr. 

King  Cole  Trio 

Take  A  Number 
True  or  False 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 
Dorothy  Guklheim 

Local  Programs 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 

6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

Peter  Roberts 

Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Vagabonds'  Quartet 

Profits  of  Prayer 
Harry  Wismer 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

In  My  Opinion 

Red  Barber  Sports 
Show 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Curtain  Time 

Hawaii  Calls 

What's  the  Name  of 
That  Song 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Abe  Burrows 
Hoagy  Carmichael 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Life  of  Riley 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Ross  Dolan, 

Detective 
The  Amazing  Mr. 

Malone 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Keeping  Up  With 

the  Kids 
Lionel  Hampton 

Gangsters 
What's  My  Name 

Joan  Davis  Time 
Vaughn  Monroe 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Radio  City  Playhouse 
Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theater  of  the  Air 

Professor  Quiz 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Saturday  Night 
Serenade 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

HOUSE  JAMESON— transferred  to  Co- 
lumbia from  University  of  Texas  to 
be  nearer  the  stage.  After  appearing  in 
several  Broadway  successes  and  in  stock, 
in  Toronto,  he  tried  radio,  as  an  an- 
nouncer, in  1934.  His  first  real  radio 
success  was  as  Renfrew,  in  Renfrew  of 
the  Mounted,  but  he's  best  known  as  Mr. 
Aldrich,  heard  with  his  Family,  over 
NBC,  Thursday  evenings  at  8:00,  EDT. 


Philco  472:  built-in  AM-FM. 


ANOTHER  in  the 
new  group  of 
table-models  is 
Philco  Model  472.  It's 
a  moderately -priced 
set  in  a  streamlined 
plastic  cabinet  and 
comes  in  either  brown 
or  ivory.  Approximate 
dimensions  are  10" 
x  16"  x  8".  Of  interest, 
too,  is  the  built-in  dual 
AM-FM  aerial  system. 


When  talk  gets  around  to  small  radios  it  must,  of 
necessity,  get  around  to  the  new  "Personal"  line  of 
receivers  built  by  RCA  Victor.  It's  a  battery-operated 
portable  that  weighs  only  three  and  a  half  pounds,  and 
features  a  lid  switch  which  automatically  turns  the 
radio  on  when  the  lid  is  opened.  It's  small  enough  to 
fit  in  a  pocket,  measuring  only  3x/4"  x  4%"  x  6V4".  This 
set  retails  for  about  $33  and  comes  in  red,  brown,  black 
and  ivory. 


Tele-tone:  26  sq.in.  image,  all-channel  tuning. 

And  still  the  price  of  television  sets  keeps  going  down. 
Tele-tone  boasts  of  a  set  tagged  at  only  $149.95.  The 
screen  furnishes  an  image  of  26  square  inches  and  the 
set  is  in  a  genuine  mahogany  cabinet.  This  set,  by  the 
way,  does  include  All  Channel  tuning.  You  can  pick  up 
telecasts  from  all  stations  in  your  area.  For  the  record, 
it's  Model  149. 


Since  there's  plenty  of  vacation  weather  ahead,  you 
may  be  looking  for  a  portable  radio  that  will  give  you 
reception  no  matter  where  you  go.  A  good  suggestion 
would  be  to  look  over  the  Crosley  model  9-302.  It's  a 
three-way  set  that  will  operate  in  AC  or  DC  current 
as  well  as  on  batteries.  This  portable  comes  in  an 
alligator-grain  brown  leatherette  case  with  metal  trim. 


Another  portable  us- 
ing alligator  grain  is 
the  RCA  Victor  model 
8BX5.  Contrasting  ef- 
fect is  obtained  by 
balancing  the  simu- 
lated leather  with  ma- 
roon plastic.  This  set 
is  also  three-way — 
Battery,  AC  and  DC. 


RCA  8BX5:  battery,  AC  and  DC. 


Some  lives  reach  beauty  in  one  spectacular  moment;   some  build  to- 
ward it  slowly,  making  a  pattern  of  happiness  out  of  every-day  things 


THE  DAY-TO-DAY   THINGS 

RADIO   MIRROR'S   BEST    LETTER  OF 
THE  MONTH 

DEAR  PAPA  DAVID: 
When  a  neighbor,  a  housewife 
and  mother  whose  child  was  in 
kindergarten  with  mine,  shot  and  killed 
herself  and  her  two  children,  I  thought 
there  was  no  virtue  left  in  life.  The 
news  of  her  tragedy  raised  ugly  fears 
and  suspicions  in  millions  of  people. 

Because'  she  and  her  husband  were 
of  different  religious  faiths,  members 
of  each  group  looked  at  the  other  and 
thought,  "It  was  because  of  the  re- 
ligion." Husbands,  reading  of  it  in  the 
paper,  looked  at  their  own  wives  with 
a  new  dread:  "Might  she  do  it,  too,  if 
things   got  tough?" 

But  what  we  mothers  feared  most 
was  what  it  would  do  to  the  children. 
With  the  radio,  the  headlines,  and  the 
village  talk,  it  was  impossible  for  them 
not  to  know.  Would  their  tender  faces 
wear  a  new  and  fearful  gravity?  Would 
their  baby  eyes  show  terror?  Had  they 
felt  that  gun,  pointed  at  their  heads? 
Did  they  see  their  baby  sisters,  lifeless 
in  the  bassinette?  Over  the  week-end, 
the  burden  of  it  was  cruel. 

I  waited  with  the  other  mothers, 
Monday  noon,  outside  the  kindergarten, 
where  she  had  waited  with  us  only  last 
week.  At  last  the  children  came  in 
their  bright  snowsuits — not  tumbling 
noisily,  as  usual,  but  in  an  orderly  line. 
One  by  one,  they  joined  the  mothers, 
quietly,  obediently.  "Oh  God,"  I  prayed, 
"let  them  shout!  Let  them  push  and 
shove!  Let  them  show  that  they  trust 
us!" 

My  girl  could  not  wait  to  step  into 
the  car  before  she  told  me  solemnly, 
"Joey   is   dead.     He   has    gone   to   live 


with  God."  She  waited  for  my  comment. 

"Oh,"  I  said.  I  knew  very  well  that 
the  children  knew  what  Joey's  mother 
had  done.  She  didn't  want  to  tell  me 
that  she  knew.  She  was  accusing  me, 
silently. 

With  trembling  hands,  I  set  the  car 
in  motion.  My  girl  was  still,  ominously 
still,  it  seemed  to  me,  withdrawn  into 
herself.  Some  thought  lay  deep  in  her 
little  mind,  troubling  her.  We  were 
almost  home  when  she  said  with  dig- 
nity, "I  can't  tell  you  something, 
Mommy." 

My  heart  took  a  frantic  leap.  As  she 
resumed  her  silence,  her  rosy  little 
lips  twitched.  Would  she  burst  into 
tears — show  a  grief  which  I  could  com- 
fort? But  suddenly,  to  my  utter  aston- 
ishment, instead  of  crying,  she  was 
laughing. 

"It's  a  secret  what  we  made  today!" 
she  declared  with  her  usual  shrill  en- 
thusiasm. "You  can  guess,  but  I  can't 
tell!  We  made — we  made — "  Her  blue 
eyes  sparkled  with  the  excitement  of 
trying  to  keep  a  secret,  but  it  was  im- 
possible. "We  made  Valentines  for  our 
mothers!" 

It  isn't  safe  to  drive  with  tear-filled 
eyes,  so  I  stopped  the  car  while  I 
hugged  her.  Our  children  still  loved 
and  trusted  us! 

Of  course,  I  knew  that  their  faith 
had  remained  perfect  because  they  had 
not  wholly  understood  the  awfulness 
of  the  crime.  Holding  my  warm  and 
squirming  child,  I  thought:  Because 
each  of  us  is,  in  a  sense,  a  little  child, 
unable  to  comprehend  everything,  we 
are  able  to  turn  our  thoughts  from 
sorrow,  to  go  on  loving  and  believing 
in  one  another,  to  do  the  day-to-day 
things  that  make  life  beautiful.  One 
of  the  wonders  (Continued  on  page  74) 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby  and  Don  Becker,  is  heard  Mon. — Fri.  at 
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69 


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70 


I  Give  My  Troth 

(Continued  from  page  63) 


ful  realization  of  all  he  had  in  her.  She 
was  his  beloved,  his  Joan;  he  never 
thought  of  her  as  apart  from  himself — 
but  at  times  like  these  he  saw  afresh  all 
she  was  that  he  was  not.  She  was  not 
only  the  sheltered,  carefully  reared 
daughter  of  wealth,  not  only  lovely  and 
gracious  beyond  expression,  but  she 
had  a  voice,  a  voice  that  many  a  pro- 
fessional singer  might  wish  for.  It 
frightened  him  a  little  when  he  thought 
of  it — that  so  much  of  the  world  had 
been  open  to  her,  and  she  had  chosen 
him  and  a  farm  instead. 

The  last  notes  died  on  the  evening 
air.  The  sound  of  applause  reached 
them,  distant  but  clear;  a  voice  cried 
"More!     More!" 

"Joan,  they  heard  you  at  the  club!" 
Sylvia  cried  delightedly. 

"They  can't  see  you  though,"  said 
Phil.  "They're  not  as  lucky  as  we  are." 
He  meant  it  sincerely,  light  as  the 
words  were,  and  in  his  heart  he  was 
truly  grateful.  For  a  little  time,  while 
she  sang,  she  had  been  the  Joan  he  had 
once  known,  the  Joan  whom  he  had 
thought  of  as  his,  the  Joan  who'd  sung 
for  the  crowd  at  parties,  beside  a  camp 
fire  at  the  beach,  on  the  way  home  be- 
side him  in  his  car.  .  .  . 

MRS.  FIELD  might  well  have  read  Har- 
ry's thoughts.  Proud  as  she  was  of 
Joan's  voice,  she  would  have  been  bet- 
ter pleased  if  Harry  had  not  written  the 
song,  if  Joan  had  not  sung  it  with  her 
eyes  upon  her  husband's  face.  She 
said  pointedly,  "Joan,  it's  a  shame  you 
never  did  anything  about  your  voice. 
But  of  course — " 

"I'll  leave  that  to  my  children, 
Mother,"  Joan  interrupted  tranquilly. 

"But  of  course,"  her  mother  went  on 
as  if  she  had  not  heard,  "one  word  from 
me  makes  you  do  exactly  as  you  please. 
There  was  so  much  you  could  have — " 

"Miss  Joan — "  Nettie  came  out  on 
the  terrace,  and  Joan  was  glad  of  the 
interruption.  "There's  a  gentleman 
here  from  police  headquarters  who  says 
he  wants  to  speak  to  either  you  or  Mr. 
Davis." 

"Must  be  the  Lieutenant,"  Harry  said. 
"He  said  he'd  stop  by  tonight.  I'll  see 
him  inside." 

Joan  was  already  on  her  feet.  "Do 
you  want  me  to  come?" 

"I  wish  you  would,"  said  Harry.  "It's 
probably  about  Steve." 

"Now,  Joan,"  her  mother  broke  in, 
"don't  get  excited.  You  know  Dr.  Wig- 
gan  warned  you — " 

"I'm  all  right,"  said  Joan  impatiently 
over  her  shoulder.  "I  couldn't  possibly 
feel  better." 

The  young  lieutenant  of  police  was 
waiting  for  them  in  the  foyer.  He  re- 
fused their  invitation  to  join  them  for 
coffee,  complimented  Joan  upon  her 
appearance.  "You  certainly  look  differ- 
ent from  the  last  time  I  saw  you,  Mrs. 
Davis,"  he  said,  " — lying  at  the  side  of 
a  country  road." 

A  tactless  opening,  Harry  thought, 
but  Joan  took  it  serenely.  "I  feel  dif- 
ferent," she  smiled.  "Have  you  any 
more  news  of  Mr.  Skidmore?" 

"That's  what  I  came  to  tell  you,"  the 
lieutenant  answered.  "I've  talked  to 
the  prison  hospital  again,  and  he  is 
definitely  improved.  Of  course,  with 
his  heart  condition  you  never  know,  but 
the  doctor  told  me  that  the  improve- 
ment in  his  condition  after  his  confes- 
sion, after  he  told  the  truth  about  his 


part  in  Betty  Scofield's  death,  was  un- 
believable. And  the  doctor  says  also 
that  the  knowledge  that  he  will  no 
longer  be  responsible  for  keeping  Mrs. 
Cameron  in  jail  might  put  him  right  on 
his  feet." 

"But  it  will  be  a  shock,"  said  Joan. 
"Mightn't  the  excitement — " 

"I  only  know  what  the  doctor  be- 
lieves," said  the  lieutenant,  "and  that 
is  that  it  will  help  him.  And,  Mrs. 
Davis,  we  don't  want  to  trouble  you  if 
you'd  rather  not,  but  we  all  feel  that 
you're  the  one  to  tell  him  he's  cleared 
.  .  .  you  and  Mr.  Davis.  He's  torturing 
himself  over  the  part  he  played  in  your 
lives.  And  if  he  learns  that  you  don't 
hold  it  against  him,  it  will  help  that 
much  toward  helping  him  recover." 

"It's  all  up  to  Mrs.  Davis,"  said  Harry. 
"Joan — " 

"Oh,  I  want  to,"  said  Joan.  "I  talked 
it  over  with  Dr.  Wiggan  before  I  left 
the  hospital — told  him  that  you  wanted 
me  to  tell  Steve — and  he  said  that  I 
could  do  it,  provided  I  felt  able.  And— 
well,  I  do  feel  able  to  do  it.  In  fact,  J 
couldn't  bear  not  to.  I'm  as  anxious 
as  Mr.  Skidmore  and  Mrs.  Cameron 
to  have  our  old  relationship  re- 
established." 

"Good,"  said  the  lieutenant.  "It  will 
have  to  be  done  tomorrow.  We  can't 
detain  Mrs.  Cameron  any  longer — " 

Joan  and  Harry  nodded.  "We'll  be 
there  tomorrow." 

"Then  we'll  set  it  up  for  three  o'clock 
at  the  Summerville  Hospital,"  said  the 
lieutenant.  "We'll  have  Mrs.  Cameron 
there  as  well.  And  in  the  meantime, 
we'll  go  ahead  with  the  plan." 

"The  plan?"  asked  Harry. 

"Why,  yes,  Mr.  Davis — didn't  I  tell 
you?  The  court  has  decided  to  be 
lenient  in  Mr.  Skidmore's  case  and  to 
overlook  his  part  in  the  Scofield  girl's 
death.  He's  being  paroled  in  the  care 
of  Mrs.  Cameron." 

Joan  and  Harry  looked  at  each  other. 
"In  Irma's  care!"  Harry  ejaculated. 

'TPHAT'S  wonderful!"  Joan  cried. 
1  "There  isn't  anything  else  in  the 
world  Irma  wants — and  nothing  that 
could  be  better  for  Steve.  How  did  you 
ever  think  of  it?" 

"It's  the  result  of  the  thinking  you 
and  Mr.  Davis  started  us  on,  Mrs.  Davis, 
when  you  told  us  all  Mrs.  Cameron  had 
done  for  Mr.  Skidmore  in  the  past — and 
he  for  her,  back  when  he  was  able. 
Now  we  think  that  she  can  help  him 
come  back  from  this  experience  he's 
been  through." 

"Oh,  she  will,"  Joan  breathed.  "His 
life  hasn't  been  easy,  Lieutenant.  He 
isn't  weak — his  weakness  was  never  in 
himself,  but  in  the  woman  he  loved,  a 
woman  who  wasn't  in  love  with  him. 
His  wife.  She  destroyed  him — deliber- 
ately— because  she  was  in  love  with — 
with — "  she  hesitated  slightly,  without 
looking  at  Harry — "with  someone  else. 
She  flaunted  it  before  him,  told  him  that 
she'd  only  married  him  to  be  near  the 
other  man.  It  drove  him  insane,  seeing 
this  beautiful  girl  laughing  at  him,  see- 
ing his  wife  laugh  at  him  before  all  the 
world —  Irma  knows  all  about  it;  she 
understands  and  loves  him  as  no  one 
else  does.    I  know  she  can  help  him — " 

"There  isn't  a  finer  farmer  in  the 
state,"  Harry  put  in.  "The  dairy's  never 
been  the  same  since  they  let  Steve  go. 
I  know  he  could  get  his  old  job  back." 

The  lieutenant  nodded.    "You're  very 


probably  right.  But  just  now  the  whole 
thing  is  up  to  you  two — telling  him 
what's  happened,  that  he's  a  free  man 
once  more,  seeing  that  he  realizes  that 
there's  nothing  but  friendship  and  un- 
derstanding on  your  part." 

"We'll  do  everything  we  can,"  Joan 
promised. 

"I  know  you  will,"  said  the  lieuten- 
ant. "Thank  you  very  much,  Mrs.  Davis. 
We'll  be  seeing  you  tomorrow  at  three. 
And  oh — in  the  meantime,  we'll  have 
Mrs.  Cameron  officially  released,  and 
we'll  have  told  her  of  our  plans  for  Mr. 
Skidmore." 

"Good  idea,"  Harry  approved.  "It 
will  give  her  time  to  get  adjusted.  It's 
going  to  be  a  shock  for  her,  too." 

When  the  lieutenant  had  gone,  Joan 
turned  a  radiant  face  to  her  husband. 
"Oh,  Harry,"  she  said,  "could  anything 
be  more  wonderful — could  things  pos- 
sibly be  better  for  everyone?  Back 
there  on  the  terrace,  when  they  were 
playing  our  song,  I  didn't  think  there 
could  be  any  more  happiness  in  the 
world.  But  now — things  have  not  only 
come  right  for  us,  but  they're  going  to 
be  right  for  Steve  and  Irma,  too.  I 
know  it,  Harry.  I  know  they're  really 
going  to  find  happiness  at  last." 

SHE  felt  differently  the  next  after- 
noon, when  she  stood  with  Harry  in 
front  of  the  grim  gray  stone  prison  in 
Summerville. 

"Harry,"  she  said,  "I'm  afraid.  Sup- 
pose the  shock  is  too  much  for  Steve 
after  all?  The  doctor  can't  know  every- 
thing, and  if  things  should  go  wrong — " 

"It's  this  place,  darling,"  said  Harry. 
"You  came  here  too  many  other  times 
on  unhappy  errands.  Don't  let  it  get 
you  down." 

"I'm  afraid  it  does,"  Joan  admitted. 
"You've  no  idea  how  I  hate  it,  how  I 
hate  setting  foot  inside  of  it — " 

"My  dear — "  He  touched  her  arm, 
and  as  if  the  contact  gave  her  strength, 
she  started  up  the  steps  .  .  .  She  was 
standing  in  the  same  gray  corridor  on 
the  same  stone  floor,  where  she  had  so 
often  waited  to  be  permitted  to  see 
Harry.  Harry  had  gone  to  the  infor- 
mation desk;  she  saw  the  receptionist 
gesture,  saw  Harry  go  on  to  the  super- 
intendent's office. 

"Dear  God,"  she  prayed,  "let  nothing 
have  gone  wrong.  Let  Steve  be  all 
right — "  And  then  Harry  was  coming 
back,  his  face  grave  and  set. 

"Darling,  do  you  think  you  can  go 
through  it  alone?  Irma's  with  Steve 
now,  preparing  him,  telling  him  we're 
waiting  to  see  him.  But  he's  very  weak, 
and  both  the  doctor  and  the  lieutenant 
feel  that  you'd  better  see  him  alone." 

"With  Irma?"  Joan  asked. 

"Of  course  with  Irma,"  he  reassured 
her.  "But  don't,  darling,  if  you  think 
it  will  be  too  much  for  you — " 

She  shook  her  head,  mutely,  and  then 
she  was  walking  down  the  gray  corri- 
dor to  the  superintendent's  office;  con- 
scious only  to  the  tension  within  her,  of 
the  desperate  knowledge  that  every 
word  she  said,  every  inflection  of  her 
voice,  must  be  right.  Then  there  was 
the  white  glare  of  the  hospital  room, 
and  Steve.  And  Irma. 

The  women's  eyes  met.  Irma's  lips 
moved  soundlessly,  and  finally  the  word 
came  out.     "Joan — " 

"Irma — "  And  then,  somehow,  there 
was  no  need  to  say  more.  The  past  was 
understood,  forgiven,  done  with;  there 
remained  only  the  task  to  be  accom- 
plished for  the  still  figure  on  the  bed. 

Steve  couldn't  see  her,  but  he  must 
have  known  that  she  was  there.  He  said 
weakly,     questioningly,     "Joan?"     and 


I 
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suddenly  Joan  knew  that  she  could  do 
what  she  had  come  here  to  do.  Steve — 
why  Steve  might  have  been  little 
Sammy  lying  there,  in  need  of  comfort 
and  reassurance. 

"I'm  here,  Steve  dear,"  she  said.  "See 
— right  here  beside  you — " 

He  turned  his  eyes  toward  her,  and 
he  saw  her  now;  she  was  sure  that 
there  was  recognition  in  his  eyes.  She 
took  his  hand.  "Steve,  we're  all  going 
to  be  happy.  Don't,  Steve — Listen  to 
me — " 

"Joan — "  His  voice  broke,  and  then 
somehow  he  found  the  strength  to 
check  himself.  "I  only  want  you  to  for- 
give me,"  he  said  steadily,  "forgive  me 
for  what  I  did  to  you  and  Harry." 

"There's  nothing  to  forgive,  Steve. 
Don't  you  know  that?" 

His  head  moved  in  slight  negation. 
"I  ran  away,  Joan — and  you  and  Harry 
paid  the  price  for  it." 

"CTEVE,  listen."  Her  hand  tightened 
*J  on  his.  "There  isn't  any  of  us  in  this 
life,  not  a  living  soul,  who  hasn't  been 
wrong  at  some  time  or  another,  who 
hasn't  hurt  someone.  Steve,  you  re- 
member what  I  did  to  Harry  some  time 
ago — you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that 
Harry  was  never  faithless  to  me,  and 
I  knew  it  then  as  I  know  it  now,  but 
that  one  moment  of  decision  came — 
and  I  packed  my  things  and  left  him. 
I  knew  when  it  happened  that  I 
shouldn't  have,  but  I  left  him.  And 
now  that  it's  all  over,  Steve,  it  hasn't 
made  any  difference  between  us.  It's 
only  made  us  closer  because  of  that 
mistake.  Steve,  I  love  Harry  more  to- 
day than  I  ever  did  before  in  my  life — 
and  that's  the  way  we  both  feel  about 
you,  Steve.  You're  dearer  to  us  now 
than  you've  ever  been,  both  you  and 
Irma." 

"Joan,  dear — "  Irma  broke  in,  her 
voice  shaking. 

"You  mean  it?"  Steve  asked.  "And 
Harry — does  he  mean  it?  Does  he  be- 
lieve it  as  you  do?" 

"We  both  feel  exactly  the  same  way, 
Steve." 

His  head  turned  ever  so  slightly  to- 
ward Irma.  "Then,  Irma,  it's  all  right. 
Everything's   going   to   be   all  right — " 

She  mustn't  cry  now,  Joan  thought 
desperately.  Not  now,  with  the  crisis 
still  ahead.  "Now,"  she  said,  swallow- 
ing hard,  "I  want  to  tell  you  the  news 
I've  brought — " 

Steve's  eyes  closed.  "Nothing  else  is 
important,  Joan  dear.  Now  that  I  know 
how  you  and  Harry  feel,  nothing  and 
no  one  is  important  but  Irma  and  her 
family." 

"Steve — "  and  in  spite  of  herself  ten- 
sion crept  into  her  voice — "this  is  im- 
portant to  us  all." 

"You  promised,  Steve,"  Irma  broke 
in,   "that  you  wouldn't  get  excited — " 

His  hand  moved,  and  hers  went  into 
it.     "I'm  all  right,  Irma." 

"Steve — "  Joan  drew  a  deep  breath, 
spoke  as  she  would  to  a  confused  child. 
"You  didn't  kill  Betty  Scofield.  Do  you 
hear  me,  Steve?  Another  man  has  con- 
fessed— Robert  Nobel,  the  man  who 
caused  me  so  much  trouble,  the  man 
whose  name  I  found  in  Betty  Scofield's 
address  book.  He  was  a  dealer  in  stolen 
cars,  Steve,  and  Betty  had  been  work- 
ing for  him,  and  he  was  afraid  that  she 
would  give  him  away.     Steve — " 

Her  heart  failed  her.  Steve  hadn't 
moved.  Only  his  eyelids  had  closed 
again,  and  he  lay  as  still  as  death.  Her 
eyes,  terrified,  met  Irma's — and  saw 
that  Irma's  eyes  were  calm.  Irma  still 
held  his  hand. 

"Dearest — "     Irma    leaned    close    to 


him,  whispering,  "do  you  understand? 
You  didn't  kill  her.  You  didn't  kill 
Betty  Scofield." 

"Both  you  and  Irma  are  free,"  said 
Joan. 

Irma's  mouth  was  shaking  wildly; 
tears  were  running  down  her  face. 
"Steve — you're  free,  free  to  go  as  you 
please — you  can  go  anywhere  you 
please — you  can  go  home — "  She  could 
go  no  further.  She  put  her  hand  to  her 
mouth,  bit  hard  upon  the  clenched 
knuckles.  Joan  leaned  forward,  but 
before  she  could  try  again  Steve's  lips 
moved. 

"Thank  God,"  he  said,  very  quietly, 
very  clearly.  "Thank  God — now  you're 
free,  Irma." 

"It's  you  that's  important,  Steve — 
only  you — " 

"No,  Irma.  My  heart  is  free  of  fear 
now  because  I  know  the  trouble  I 
brought  into  your  life  has  disappeared. 
That's  what  I  care  about  most." 

Joan  left  them,  then,  very  quietly, 
without  another  word.  Her  mission 
was  completed,  and  neither  of  them 
needed  her  now.  Harry  and  the  lieu- 
tenant were  waiting  for  her  in  the  cor- 
ridor. Harry  went  quickly  to  her  and 
put  his  arm  around  her,  supporting  her. 
"Joan,  you  look  torn  to  pieces — " 

"I'm  all  right,  Harry — but  you  should 
have  seen  Steve.  He  looks  so  terrible — 
there's  nothing  left  of  him.  But  when 
I  told  him — you  should  have  seen  him. 
He  didn't  move,  but  it  was  as  if  some- 
thing had  changed  inside  him.  I  know 
he's  going  to  get  well,  now,  Harry.  I 
know  it." 

"I  think  so,  too,  dear,"  he  said,  very 
gently.  "But  right  now,  I  want  to  get 
you  out  to  the  car — and  home.  You  look 
plenty  shaky  yourself.  Lieutenant, 
what  do  we  do  about  Mrs.  Cameron?" 

"Leave  her  with  him  for  the  time 
being,"  the  lieutenant  answered.  "There 
are  a  few  formalities  to  go  through, 
and  then  she's  free  to  go  wherever  her 
heart  desires.  I  think  perhaps  Mr.  Skid- 
more  will  stay  here  until  he's  well 
enough  to  be  moved,  but  Mrs.  Cameron 
can  go  tomorrow." 

"WE'LL  come  for  her,"  said  Joan.  "Will 
»  you  tell  her  that,  Lieutenant?  Tell 
her  that  we'll  be  here  tomorrow  to  take 
her  home." 

Home.  A  few  minutes  later  she  and 
Harry  were  riding  home,  rolling  along 
the  Northport  road,  past  the  familiar 
countryside,  the  familiar  farms.  "I'm 
glad  we  went  to  Summerville  to  see 
Steve  before  we  went  on  home,"  Joan 
said.  "Now  we  know  we're  really 
going  home,  Harry,  for  the  first  time  in 
so  long — together,  and  to  home  as  it 
used  to  be,  only  better,  because  I  think 
things  will  be  better  for  Steve  and  Irma 
from  now  on.  I  don't  think  I'd  ever 
get  over  it  if  all  of  this  trouble  had 
come  between  Steve  and  Irma — and  us. 
I  mean,  I  was  so  afraid  that  they  would 
never  quite  believe  in  our  forgiveness — 
if  you  could  call  it  that,  because  I  never 
did  feel  that  there  was  anything  to  for- 
give. But  I  was  afraid  they  might  never 
quite  believe  that  we  wanted  to  go  on 
being  friends — and  now  I  know  it's  all 
right.  I  knew  it  the  moment  I  saw 
Irma  look  up  at  me  from  Steve's  bed- 
side. Everything's  going  to  be  all 
right." 

"Thanks  to  you,"  said  Harry. 

"To  me?  You  mean  because  I  went 
after  Robert  Nobel?" 

"That  too,"  he  answered,  "but  I  meant 
something  else  more.  Your  spirit,  Joan, 
your  understanding  of  why  Irma  and 
Steve  did  what  they  did — " 

She  laughed  softly.     "That's  simple, 


Harry.  I  understand  Irma  because  she 
feels  about  Steve  as  I  feel  about  you. 
He's  the  living  core  of  her  life,  and 
everything  else  stems  from  him.  And 
Steve — well,  I've  always  felt  especially 
close  to  Steve  because  there's  some- 
thing in  him  that's  like  you.  It's  a  sort 
of  alone  and  against  the  world  attitude 
that  comes  of  your  both  having  the 
same  kind  of  start  in  life.  You  both 
felt  the  responsibility  of  a  family  years 
before  you  should  have  taken  on  that 
sort  of  burden — " 

"Joan,  a  lot  of  people  have  to  carry 
that  kind  of  responsibility — " 

"And  I'd  like  to  give  everyone  of 
them  some  of  the  ease  and  playtime  I 
was  brought  up  in,"  said  Joan.  "It 
would  make  them  less  tense,  less  sen- 
sitive to  hurt,  more  elastic  when  trouble 
comes.  Steve  had  a  hard  life,  a  grim 
life;  he  lost  his  head  over  Betty  Mac- 
Donald  because  she  was  a  bright,  pretty 
thing — the  kind  of  thing  he'd  never 
known.  He'd  never  had  the  least  of 
luxuries,  never  had  the  chance  to  do  all 
the  playing  he  should  have — and  you 
haven't,  either.  You  don't  know  what 
that  side  of  life  is  all  about." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Harry  de- 
fensively.    "I  think  I  do." 

"But  how  do  you  know  it,  Harry?" 
she  asked  quickly,  and  answered  her 
own  question.  "You  saw  it  when  you 
were  caddying  at  the  country  club  .  .  . 
and  wanted  to  swing  a  club  yourself, 
only  you  couldn't  take  that  much  time 
away  from  work  or  your  studies.  You 
were  always  on  the  outside  looking  in." 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed. 
"Joan,  you're  fabulous — " 

"No,  I'm  not,"  she  said  serenely. 
"I'm  just  married  to  a  guy  I  love — a 
man  who  hasn't  a  grain  of  sense  so  far 
as  the  laughing  of  life  is  concerned. 
And — oh,  I  guess  what  I'm  trying  to 
say  is  that  because  I  love  you  so  much, 
it's  easy  to  love  and  understand  anyone 
who  is  the  slightest  bit  like  you..  Harry, 
look  out!" 

The  car  swayed  as  he  reached  for  her. 
Prudently,  he  turned  off  the  road  and 
stopped  the  motor  before  he  gathered 
her  into  his  arms. 

"Sorry,  darling,"  he  said  huskily,  "but 
I  shouldn't  even  try  to  drive  when 
you're  sitting  that  close  beside  me, 
saying  things  that  make  me  feel  I'm 
everything  in  the  world  to  you,  that 
our  love  explains  everything  to  you — " 

"Aren't  you?"  Joan  asked,  her  eyes 
very  steady  upon  his  face.  "And 
doesn't  it?" 

"I  guess  it  does.  I —  It's  a  funny 
thing,  Joan,  but  when  I  was  in  prison, 
wishing  I'd  never  come  into  your  life 
because  I'd  brought  you  so  much 
misery  ...  I  still  felt  closer  to  you, 
more — Oh,  I  can't  explain — " 

"You  don't  have  to,"  she  said  softly. 
"I  know,  because  I  felt  it,  too.  Noth- 
ing mattered,  really,  but  that  we  loved 
each  other.  Not  being  separated.  Not 
even  death.  It's — why,  Harry,  it's 
knowing  a  kind  of  immortality  .  .  .  and 
don't  you  dare  laugh  at  me." 

He  didn't  laugh.  He  couldn't.  He 
could  only  hold  her  closer — and  yet 
never  close  enough — while  the  peace  of 
the  afternoon  deepened   around  them. 


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Name 


Address 

a»y 


LIFE   CAN   BE   BEAUTIFUL 

(Continued   jrom   page   68) 


of  life  is  its  everydayness,  its  hum- 
drumness,  which  prevents  us  from 
seeing  tragedy  at  every  turn.  Mothers 
may  violate  the  trust  of  their  families, 
faction  may  turn  against  faction  with 
intolerance,  and  we  grieve;  but  every 
day  children  go  to  school,  mothers 
make  the  beds  and  wash  the  dishes, 
fathers  set  forth  to  work.  In  the 
monotony,  the  regularity,  the  order- 
liness of  life,  we  find  relief  from  its 
violence  and  passion;  from  its  tragedy 
which,  fully  understood,  would  require 
of  man  the  vast  compassion  of  God. 

E.  L.  C. 

The  letters  that  follow  have  earned  this 
month's  ten-dollar  checks: 

SINGLE  BLESSEDNESS 

Dear  Papa  David: 

So  many  single  women  face  the  future 
with  secret  fears  of  missing  all  happi- 
ness without  marriage.  I  am  a  spinster 
past  50  years  of  age,  and  I  know  life  can 
be  beautiful  and  richly  satisfying — re- 
gardless of  single  blessedness. 

I  learned  it  from  a  maiden  aunt  who 
taught  school  twenty  years  before  she 
married  at  thirty-eight.  During  the 
formative  years  of  my  girlhood,  she  had 
more  time,  money  and  fun  than  anyone 
I  knew.  She  loved  children  and  always 
had  nephews  and  nieces  in  her  home; 
she  played  with  them  and  took  them  on 
trips.  There  was  never  the  slightest 
stigma  attached  to  the  term  "old  maid" 
in  our  family. 

And  so  I  have  never  felt  apologetic 
for  being  an  "old  maid"  or  resented 
being  called  one.  I  have  missed  mar- 
riage but  I  have  not  missed  happiness. 
One  by  one  I  acquired  three  motherless 
children,  whom  I  have  reared  and  edu- 
cated, and  I  know  they  are  as  dear  to 
me  as  if  they  were  my  own  flesh  and 
blood.  I  now  have  five  "grandchildren" 
and  no  blood  grandmother  has  more 
satisfaction  in  her  children's  children 
than  I  have  in  the  little  ones  who  call 
me  "aunt"  just  as  their  fathers  did.  It  is 
love,  devotion,  self-sacrifice  and  hard 
work  which  fashion  family  bonds,  and 
while  I  am  single,  I  am  not  "a  lone 
woman." 

It  was  not  always  easy  to  hold  a  job 
and  to  make  a  home  for  children.  Many 
of  my  friends  were  not  sympathetic, 
saying  my  sacrifices  would  not  be  ap- 
preciated— that  I  should  provide  for  my 


own  future.  I  honestly  think  I  have  as 
much  financial  security  today  as  I  would 
have  had  if  I  had  used  all  of  my  earn- 
ings for  myself. 

Trying  to  make  life  beautiful — for 
others — I  have  found  is  a  guaranteed 
way  of  making  it  beautiful  for  myself. 
No  one  needs  to  be  deterred  because  of 
lack  of  money.  Sympathy,  understand- 
ing and  a  willingness  to  help  are  far 
scarcer  to  find  than  money. 

I  am  thankful  I  learned  from  my 
maiden  aunt  not  to  carry  the  handicap 
that  so  many  single  women  do — feeling 
sorry  for  themselves.  For  happiness  is 
not  dependent  on  marriage  or  any  other 
circumstance — it  is  something  each  must 
create  for  himself.  M.  M. 

LET  BEAUTY  SOAK  IN! 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  suppose  that  I  was  about  seven 
years  old  that  spring  morning  when 
Grandmother  Ellen  was  cleaning  house. 
The  tacked-down  carpets  had  been 
taken  up  and  hung  over  the  line  for 
their  annual  beating;  the  rising-sun  and 
prairie-rose  quilts,  the  fat  featherbeds 
and  pillows  were  hung  in  the  shade  to 
air.  Grandmother  stepped  heavily  from 
the  kitchen  looked  reproachfully  at 
Grandfather  who  had  dropped  down  in 
the  barrel-stave  hammock  and  was 
breathing  deeply  of  the  May  morning 
fragrance — the  smell  of  spring — all 
mixed  up  with  fresh  ploughed  loam, 
burning  brush,  and  bursting  apple- 
blossoms. 

Grandfather  smiled  apologetically. 
"Dirt  will  keep,  Ellen,  but  apple- 
blossoms  last  such  a  little  while. 
I  like  to  take  time  to  let  them  soak  in." 

Grandfather's  philosophy,  take  time 
for  loveliness  while  lit  lasts,  has  been 
made  into  a  slogan  that  has  been  handed 
down  through  three  generations  of  his 
descendants. 

I  have  a  clump  of  iris  blooming  at  my 
backdoor.  Not  fancy-named  bulbs;  just 
the  old-fashioned  purple  that  will  grow 
anywhere  for  anybody.  Every  time  I 
carry  out  waste-baskets  or  garbage  I 
look  at  the  silky  royal  blooms,  then  up 
at  the  sky  with  a  swift  "Thank  You, 
God."  That  humble  clump  of  common 
iris  is  my  prayer-rug  and  my  spirit  is 
lifted,  even  as  the  soul  of  the  psalmist 
was  lifted  when  he  said:  "Let  the  beauty 
of  the  Lord,  our  God,  be  upon  us." 

E.  B.  M. 


.State- 


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76 


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PRODUCT    OF     LEHN     ft    FINK 


Tall  and  Handsome 

(Continued  from  page  59) 

Ways  to  Serve  Ice  Cream 

Peel  a  cantaloupe  and  cut  into  1-inch 
thick  slices.  Fill  the  center  of  each 
slice  with  a  scoop  of  ice  cream  and  top 
with  your  favorite  sauce. 

Slice  a  small  loaf  cake  in  half  cross- 
wise. Cover  the  bottom  half  with  ice 
cream,  replace  the  top  layer.  Cut  the 
loaf  in  thick  slices.  Cover  with  sauce 
or  sweetened  berries. 

Banana  Splits 

For  each  serving:  Place  a  portion 
each  of  vanilla,  chocolate  and  straw- 
berry ice  cream  on  individual  plates. 
Split  a  banana  lengthwise  and  place 
the  halves  on  either  side  of  the  ice 
cream.  Top  the  ice  cream  with  straw- 
berry sauce,  chopped  nuts,  and  mara- 
schino cherries. 

Peanut  Ice-Cream  Bar,  Fudge  Sauce 

1  7-ounce  package  semi-sweet  chocolate 
pieces 

3  tablespoons  hot  water 
Vi  cup  milk 
Vs  teaspoon  salt 

1  teaspoon  vanilla 

2  pint  bricks  vanilla  ice  cream,  firmly  frozen 
2  cups  unsalted  peanuts,  coarsely  chopped 

Melt  chocolate  pieces  over  boiling 
water.  Add  3  tablespoons  hot  water 
and  stir  until  smooth.  Stir  in  milk. 
Remove  from  heat  and  'add  salt  and 
vanilla.  Working  with  one  pint  at  a 
time,  cut  ice  cream  crosswise  into  three 
pieces.  Roll  each  piece  in  chopped  pea- 
nuts, pressing  nuts  into  ice  cream 
firmly.  Store  the  bars  in  freezing  tray 
of  refrigerator  until  ready  to  serve. 
Then  pour  the  fudge  sauce,  warm  or 
cold,  over  each  serving.     Serves  six. 

Lemon  Ice  Cream 

V2  cup  sugar 

2  eggs,  well  beaten 
V2  cup  light  corn  syrup 

1  teaspoon  grated  lemon  rind 
%  cup  lemon  juice 

1  cup  milk 

1  cup  light  cream  or  evaporated  milk 

Add  sugar  gradually  to  eggs,  beating 
constantly  until  thick.  Stir  in  remain- 
ing ingredients.  Pour  into  deep  freez- 
ing tray  of  refrigerator  and  freeze  until 
mixture  is  frozen  1  "  from  edges  of  tray. 
Turn  into  chilled  bowl;  beat  with 
chilled  beater  until  mixture  is  smooth 
but  not  melted.  Return  to  tray  imme- 
diately and  continue  freezing  until  firm. 
Makes  6  servings. 

Orange    Velvet 

1/4  cup  sugar 
V2  cup  corn  syrup 
%  cup  water 
1  package  orange  flavored  gelatin 

1  cup  orange  juice 

2  tablespoons  lemon  juice 
2  cups  milk 

Combine  sugar,  corn  syrup  and  water; 
boil  for  2  minutes.  Dissolve  gelatin  in 
hot  liquid.  Add  fruit  juices.  Pour  into 
deep  tray  of  refrigerator  and  freeze  with 
control  set  at  coldest  point.  When  par- 
tially frozen,  pour  into  chilled  bowl 
and  beat  with  a  rotary  beater.  Add  milk 
and  beat  until  blended.  Return  to  tray 
and  continue  freezing  until  firm.  Makes 
8  to  10  servings. 


My  Wife  Jane 

(Continued  from  page  26) 


and  high  school.  "A  fact  largely," 
Jane  would  tell  you,  "unknown  to 
me."  Known  to  her,  I  hope,  but  can't 
be  sure,  is  the  fact  that  we  were  mar- 
ried in  1928.  "Well,  Time  wounds  all 
heels,"  Jane  Sherwood  says.  So  it  does. 
You  just  wait  and  see — all  heels  really 
get  it.  I  emphasize  this  point  to  show 
you  that  one  of  the  good  things  about 
Jane's  malaprops  is  that  they  contain, 
always,  a  sturdy  stalk  of  commonsense, 
a  tare  of  truth  growing  among  the  corn. 
Twelve  years  as  newspaperman  and 
Station  KMBC  in  Kansas  City  gave  me 
my  first  radio  work  which,  under  the 
title  of  The  Movie  Man,  consisted  of 
doing  a  radio  version  of  my  own  news- 
paper column,  reading  the  funnies  on 
the  air  (something  that  had  never,  at 
the  time,  been  done  before)  reviewing 
plays  and  pictures  and  etcetera.  Every- 
thing was  for  ten  dollars.  No  matter 
what  you  did — read  the  funnies,  com- 
mentated on  the  body  politic,  reviewed 
play  or  film,  got  an  idea — ten  dollars. 

FLASHBACK  now  to  an  evening  in 
the  year  1930.  The  Movie  Man  was 
just  finishing  his  stint  when  it  became 
apparent  that  the  talent  for  the  next 
fifteen-minute  show  wasn't  going  to 
show,  had  canceled  out.  So  I  had  to 
talk  on  for  the  next  fifteen  minutes, 
substituting  for  the  missing  talent 
which  was,  by  the  way,  the  late  Hey- 
wood  Broun. 

Waiting  for  me  outside  the  studio 
on  this  fateful  night  was  spouse  Jane. 
Jane  had  never  been  on  the  air.  Her 
new  marriage  to  me  was  to  be,  we 
thought,  her  career.  But  we'd  been 
doing  a  lot  of  kidding  around  the 
house  and,  the  night  before,  had  played 
a  game  of  bridge  over  which,  when  I 
attempted  to  show  Jane  how  not  to 
trump  Ace's  aces,  she'd  snapped  "Tell 
it  to  the  morons!" 

So  I  called  Jane  to  the  mike  and  for 
fifteen  minutes  we  ad  libbed.  We 
played  a  comedy  hand  of  bridge.  We 
bore  down  rather  heavily  on  the 
bridge.  Jane  started  to  do  some  mala- 
props along  the  "Love  at  first  slight" 
and  "Be  it  ever  so  hovel,  there's  no 
place  like  home"  line.  And  after  we'd 
been  on  the  air  for  fifteen  minutes  and 
were  signing  off,  "Why  aren't  we  going 
on  the  air?"  Jane  asked  (and,  guess 
what,  meant!)  "When  are  we  going  on 
the  air?" 

The  result  of  that  fifteen  minutes  of 
(Mr.  Broun's)  ad  libbed  time  was  a 
sack  full  of  mail.  And  Easy  Aces  was 
born. 

The  show  acquired  a  sponsor.  Jane 
got  the  ten  dollars.  I,  because  I  wrote 
the  show  and  continued  to  write  it  for 
its  lifetime  of  fourteen  years,  got 
thirty.  A  lapse  of  time,  and  very  little 
of  that,  and  I  asked  for  a  $50.00  a  week 
raise.  The  sponsor,  balking,  showed 
the  whites  of  his  eyes.  We  quit — for 
one  night.  The  phone  calls  were  so 
heavy  (we  had  a  lot  of  relatives  in 
Kansas  City!)  that  a  new  sponsor 
coughed  up  the  extra  fifty  and  Easy 
Aces,  feeling  on  Easy  Street  (although 
I,  a  cautious  one,  still  held  on  to  my 
column  in  the  Journal  Post)   resumed. 

When  a  Chicago  sponsor,  happening 
to  hear  our  show,  asked  us  how  we'd 
like  to  bring  Easy  Aces  to  Chicago,  we 
were  dazzled.  But  not  for  long.  The 
sponsor  would  pay  expenses  for  the 
move  but,  it  developed,  "Couldn't 
guarantee  much  else."  Crossing  my 
fingers    and    drawing    a    bead    on    the 


moon,  I  countered  the  offer  of  "not 
much  else"  by  saying  we'd  go  for  $500 
a  week.  It  was  (young  men-on-the- 
make,  take  heed!)  a  deal. 

Still  not  one  to  dynamite  my  bridges 
behind  me,  I  continued  to  write  my 
column — "au  gratin,"  to  borrow  from 
Jane — for  free,  that  means,  every  day, 
seven  days  a  week,  during  the  show's 
first  thirteen-week  network  run. 

When  our  first  option  was  picked  up, 
I  felt  more  confident  but  not  exactly 
reckless,  and  curtailed  my  unremuner- 
ated  newspaper  efforts  to  three  a  week. 
Another  option  snatched  up  and  I  was 
doing  one  a  week — a  Sunday  column 
for  the  home-town  sheet.  During  our 
second  year  in  radio,  I  figured  Easy 
Aces  was  riding  easily  enough,  and 
high  enough,  for  me  to  drop  column 
concocting  altogether. 

We  would  stay  in  radio,  Jane  and  I 
agreed  between  us,  only  for  a  short 
time.  "When  we  get  $25,000  under  the 
mattress,"  I  said,  "we  quit."  I  wanted 
to  do  some  good  (not  radio)  writing. 
My  sights  were  set  on  Literature.  But 
I  was  to  be  the  one  to  say  "When  we 
get  $50,000,  we  quit."  We  didn't.  Went 
on  and  got  "independently  wealthy," 
as  Jane  puts  it,  in  the  fourteen  years 
that,  without  interruption  and  with 
only  one  disruption,  which  was  our 
move  to  New  York,  Easy  Aces  was  on 
the  air. 

Following  the  demise,  in  its  teens,  of 
Easy  Aces,  my  first  radio  chore  was  as 
chief  writer  for  Danny  Kaye's  CBS 
show — a  popular  comedy  feature  and 
Kaye  being  the  great  kid  from  Brook- 
lyn that  he  is,  a  lot  of  fun  to  do. 

In  August,  1946,  I  was  appointed  Su- 
pervisor of  CBS  Comedy  and  Variety 
programs — a  post  created  (I  take  pride 
in  this  commercial!)   especially  for  me. 

BUT  in  January,  1948,  I  called  Jane, 
who  was  at  home  (a  small  place,  our 
suite  in  the  Ritz-Towers,  but  we  call 
it  home)   to  the  mike  again. 

The  urge  to  return  to  active  broad- 
casting rather  than  continue  as  a  "desk" 
jockey,  was  upon  me.  To  have  Jane 
with  me  during  working,  as  well  as 
leisure  hours  was,  I  must  uxoriously 
confess,  an  even  stronger  urge.  I 
missed  my  Mrs.  Malaprop.  The  hours 
without  her  were  a  vacuum.  Nature 
abhors  a  vacuum.  So  does  Goodman 
Ace.  Result:  Jane  got  a  script,  took 
an  hour  out  to  study  and  rehearse  it 
and  Mr.  Ace  and  Jane,  currently  to  be 
heard  over  CBS,  every  Friday,  7:00  to 
7:30  P.M.  (I  take  pride  in  this  com- 
mercial, too!)  was  on  the  air. 

Jane's  only  reservation  about  being 
on  the  air  again  is  the  hour  at  which 
we  broadcast.  "Seven  o'clock,"  she 
sighs,  "spoils  the  whole  evening — too 
late  for  cocktails,  too  early  for  dinner." 
So  she  goes  without  either  and  is  re- 
warded by  the  wolf  cries  evoked  by  a 
figure  weighing  in  at  103  pounds,  two 
and  one  quarter  ounces. 

As  in  Easy  Aces  days,  I  write,  pro- 
duce and  direct  the  new  show  and,  as 
in  Easy  Aces  days,  I  portray  the  dour 
husband  to  whom  everything  happens, 
chiefly  at  the  well-meaning  or,  at  least, 
well-manicured  hands  of  wife  Jane, 
who  very  much  sums  up  the  situation 
and  our  relationship  when  she  says,  "I 
have  him  in  the  hollow  of  my  head." 

On  the  air,  the  Aces  disagree  about 
practically  everything.  Away  from  the 
mike,  Jane  and  I  manage  to  agree  more 
often  than  we  disagree;  manage  to  like 


<3- 


*# 


o 


i*«BS5- 


"X* 


More  f^ 


full    ,^s 
Pound  ?J[*>0 


Used  most  by  professional 

beauticians  .  .  .  Oceans  of 
foam  even  in  bard  water  .  .  . 
leaves  hair  soft  .  .  .  managable 
no  soap  film 

■  ci cat    cutis    mi 1 1 lilt,  *£r 


77 


^gUsip 


the  moment 
you  slip  into  a 

sum-moDE 

Every  day  women 
everywhere,  of  every 
age  and  every  size, 
are  discovering  new 
figure  beauty  with 
SLIM-MODE,    they 
never  dreamed  could 
be  theirs.    For  SLIM- 
MODE  is  no  ordinary 
girdle.     It  does   what 
no  ordinary  girdle 
could  ever  do! 

"MelU" 

AuiCUf, 

Takes  Off  Years 
From  Your 
Appearance 


•  Flattens  Your  Bulging 
Tummy 

•  Whittles  Down  Your 
Waistline 

•  Slims  Your  Silhouette 
All   Around 

•  Helps  You  Stand 
Straighter,  Taller  With 
Day-Long  Comfort 


SLIM-MODE  Alone 

gives    you    Custom-Like    Fit    .    .     . 

Your  figure  is  like  no  other!  What  may  fit  others 
may  be  all  wrong  tor  you.  SLIM-MODE  adjusts  to 
your  figure  with  a  front-laced  panel  you  tie  and 
tighten  for  your  own  greatest  comfort.  And  two- 
way  stretch  SLIM-MODE  bends  with  you,  breathes 
with  you,  expands  with  you  after  a  meal.  WILL 
NOT  BIND.  SLIM-MODE  design  is  based  on  the 
Scientific  facts  of  healthful  figure  control. 
Washes  easily.  Detachable  crotch  of  smooth  rayon 
jersey.  Four  detachable  garters  so  you  can  wear 
SLIM-MODE  under  slacks, 
shorts.  Color:  Nude.  Sized  to 
vour  waist,  hips  and  height  for 
perfect  fit   (see  coupon). 

f-DCC  "Maprlc"  Pfastlc  Laces. 
rKCC  I''or  your  extra  added  com- 
fort you  get  a  pair  of  Plastic  laces 
that  stretch  Kently  as  needed.  Try 
them  In  SLIM-MODE  instead  of  reg- 
ular   laces.      See   which    you    prefer. 


send  no  money  .  SENT  ON  APPROVAL 


RONNIE   SALES,    INC.,    Dept.    528-A 
487  Broadway,  New  York  13.  N.  Y. 

Send  me  for  10  days'  FREE  TRIAL  n  SLIM-MODE.  I 
•••ill  pay  postman  $3.1)8  (plus  postage)  (sizes  3H  and 
over  !t4.'.lH,.  In  111  days  I  will  either  return  SLIM- 
MODI-.    10   you   and   you   will    return    mv    money  or  othcr- 

' V   payment  will   he  a  Bnal   purchase  price.     I  may 

keel,    the    yrvi-    laces    In    any   case. 

My   waist   measure   is  Hips  arc  

My  heinht  is  


Address.. 


City  8t  Zone State 

U     SAVE    MONEY.      We    pay    post.iKe    It     vol!    enclose    pay- 
ment  now.      Same    FREE  TRIAL  and    refund    privilege. 
Phone,    C.    O.    D.    orders    filled.      Call    worth    4-1480. 
N.   Y.   City  orders  add    ■!'  ,    sales  Tax. 


and  what  is  perhaps  more  important, 
also  to  dislike  the  same  places,  people 
and  pets.  But  there  are  some  excep- 
tions. 

Jane  doesn't  like  sitting  around 
Lindy's,  for. instance,  or  Toots  Shor's — 
"Talking  to  actors,"  as  she  puts  it.  I  do. 

Jane  doesn't  like  to  play  cards.  I 
do.  A  couple  of  nights  a  week,  we  have 
a  few  couples  over  for  poker  or  bridge. 
On  these  nights,  Jane  usually  manages 
to  snaffle  off  one  of  the  other  wives  to 
"sit  around  and  talk."  During  the  war, 
with  hellzapoppin  from  Berchtesgaden 
to  Broadway,  "Let's  sit  around  and 
talk,"  Jane  suggested,  one  evening,  to 
the  wife  of  one  of  the  men  who  had 
come  to  ante  up  with  me.  "Talk  about 
what?"  the  w.o.o.o.t.m.,  inquired.  "Well, 
I  guess  there's  nothing,"  Jane  agreed, 
reflectively,  "to  talk  about." 

I  like  to  go  to  bed  along  around  nine 
or  nine-thirty.  Jane  goes  to  bed  at 
10:30 — not  before.  It  makes  her  ner- 
vous, she  says,  if  she  goes  to  bed 
earlier.  It  gives  her  insomnia,  she  says. 
"Insomnia,"  I  told  her,  "is  just  a  mat- 
ter of  mind  over  mattress."  (She  used 
it  on  the  air  but  not  in  so  to  speak, 
private  practice.) 

Jane's  biggest  daily  emotion  is  the 
weather,  because  the  weather  deter- 
mines what  she  will  wear.  "Going  to 
be  sunny  tomorrow — mid  60s"  is  her 
main  topic  of  conversation  after  she's 
listened  to  the  weather  man  on  the 
eight  o'clock  news.  (Though  not  ex- 
actly in  agreement  on  the  bedtime  hour, 
we  get  up  at  eight,  sharp,  both  of  us, 
making  one  simultaneous  twist  of  the 
dial  and  on  our  feet ! ) 

Jane  likes  city  life  or  roughing  it, 
very  luxuriously,  in  a  plush  hotel.  She 
says  she  likes  the  country.  "Rain  fall- 
ing softly  outside."  But  she  always  has 
a  friend  who  bought  a  place  in  the 
country,  gave  it  some  Spanish  name  for 
"Blue  Heaven"  and  sold  it  the  next 
year! 

We  used  to  take  a  place  in  the  coun- 
try each  summer — in  Deal  Beach,  New 
Jersey — but  this  year  we're  moving, 
since  Jane  has  become  a  baseball  fan, 
to  the  Yankee  Stadium  and  the  Polo 
Grounds.  Jane  has  a  box  at  both  places 
and  we'll  summer  there  ... 

Meanwhile,  we  have  our  all-year- 
round-apartment  at  the  Ritz  Towers 
and  have  had  for  twelve  years  and 
"When  we  get  old,  next  year,  we'll  go 
back  to  the  land,"  Jane  says. 

Jane  has  a  maid  she's  had  for  a  long 
time.  The  maid  gets  breakfast  for  us. 
She  used  to  get  dinner  for  us,  too,  but 
during  the  war  our  dog,  Blackie,  ate  up 
all  our  meat  coupons  so  we  got  out  of 
the  habit  of  eating  at  home.  Now  we 
use  Room  Service  or  eat  in  drugstores 
to  which  we  can  take  Blackie.    Blackie 


is  a  white  dog  so  Jane  named  him 
Blackie. 

Jane's  biggest  extravagance  is  clothes. 
She  likes  to  design  clothes.  And  she 
does  a  lot  of  sewing.  She  is  now  at  the 
"hem"  stage.  All  I  hear  when  I'm  at 
home  is,  "Is  it  long  enough?"  Currently, 
she  is  "letting  out"  a  raincoat.  She's 
good  at  it,  too,  at  sewing.  And  quite  the 
housewife.  She  keeps  the  candy  jars 
filled.  The  flower  boxes.  And  feeds 
Blackie.  She  really  did  take  "Domestic 
Silence"  at  school. 

Jane  rather  dislikes  jewelry — dia- 
monds, that  is.  She  goes  in  for  gold 
things — a  big  gold  charm  bracelet  with 
little  gold  gimmicks  dangling  from  it, 
that's  her  pride.  But  her  real  extrava- 
gance is  clothes.  She  loves  to  shop. 
After  all,  why  not?  Jane  is  five-feet- 
two,  has  hazel  eyes  and  blonde  hair, 
weighs  what  I  told  you  she  weighs  and 
Mainbocher  becomes  her  so  .  .  .  Some 
people  think  Jane  and  Mary  Benny  are 
look-alikes.  Whether  or  no,  Jane  most 
admires  (Goodman  excepted)  Mary 
Benny's  Jack  as  a  comedian.  Vina  Del- 
mar  and  Pearl  S.  Buck  are  her  favorite 
authors  and  Louis  Alter,  mainly  because 
he  wrote  our  show's  theme  song,  "Man- 
hattan Serenade,"  is  her  favorite  com- 
poser. 

Jane's  husband,  speaking  for  himself, 
is  six  feet  tall,  weighs  175  pounds,  has 
blue  eyes,  needing  a  dye  job,  reddish 
blond  hais  needing  the  same.  He  smokes 
cigars  incessantly  and  among  his  fellow 
entertainers  he  most  admires  Fred 
Allen,  Burns  and  Allen  and  Jack  Benny. 
He  likes  to  think  of  himself  as,  to  bor- 
row back  the  words  he  put  in  Jane's 
mouth,  "A  human  domino." 

Except  for  the  things  we  disagree 
on,  Jane  and  I  are,  so  to  speak,  unani- 
mous. We  like  to  go  to  the  movies. 
Not  fans,  exactly,  we  have  no  favorites 
and  never  mind  or,  indeed,  quite  know 
what  movie  we  are  seeing.  We  just  go 
to  the  movies  to  be  comfortable.  Jane 
says  she  doesn't  "mind"  any  picture, 
"So  long  as  it's  in  Technicolor." 

We're  agreed  on  our  pet  hate,  which 
is  of  phonies.  That's  why  Jane  doesn't 
want  to  live  in  Hollywood.  "Too  many 
phonies"  she  says.  I  tell  her  "But  there 
are  phonies  in  New  York,  too."  "Yes," 
she  agrees.   "But  such  real  phonies." 

We're  both  punctual  people,  very 
punctual.  Make  a  date  with  us  for  5:30 
and  we're  there  at  5:25.  "We've  got  to 
tell  them  to  be  here  fifteen  minutes 
early  because  if  we  don't  they'll  get 
here,"  Jane  points  out,  "five  minutes 
late."  On  the  subject  of  punctuality, 
Jane  Sherwood's  malaprop  is,  "I  hate 
people  that  are  impromptu" 

The  line  between  Jane  Ace  and  Jane 
Sherwood  sometimes — have  I  made  it 
clear? — wavers  and  grows  thin.  .  .  . 


"lit  25  minuted  a£  teat  tt£e  adventwie 
fan  me  eueny  day" 

— So  writes  one  woman  about  the  "My  True  Story" 
Radio  Program.  "It  takes  the  drabness  out  of  my 
life  .  .  .  but  these  true-life  stories  are  not  mere 
flights  of  fancy.  They  are  so  real  they  help  me 
live  my  own  life  better." 

Every  morning,  Monday  thru  Friday,  this  favorite 
program  presents  a  complete  drama.  Listen  to 
radio's  greatest  morning  show.  Prepared  in  co- 
operation with  the  editors  of  True  Story  Magazine. 

7«*te  u  "MY  TRUE  STORY" 

AMERICAN   BROADCASTING  STATIONS 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(Continued  from  page  47) 

The  newest  television  gadget  to  be  an- 
nounced is  pretty  difficult  for  even  the 
most  enthusiastic  video  fan  to  visualize. 
Eugene  F.  McDonald,  fabulous  president 
of  Zenith,  Inc.,  has  assured  dealers  he 
will  market  the  Phonevision  this  year. 
The  Phonevision  would  only  cost  about 
$5  to  attach  to  your  television  set  and 
through  an  arrangement  with  the  tele- 
phone company  and  the  motion  picture 
industry,  it  will  enable  you  to  phone 
any  night  and  ask  for  a  certain  movie 
to  be  piped  to  you  via  your  tele  set.  The 
cost  for  each  private  showing  would  be 
about  one  dollar!  Well — lots  of  people 
never  thought  the  Wright  Brothers 
would  get  off  the  ground  at  Kitty  Hawk; 
and  the  two  media  used  for  Phonevision 
— the  telephone  and  television — are  so 
miraculous  themselves,  that  we  might  as 
well  believe  this  will  work  too. 

*  *     * 

John  Steinbeck,  the  famous  novelist, 
and  Robert  Capa,  the  wizard  photog- 
rapher have  combined  their  unusual 
talents  to  form  World  Video — a  tele- 
vision package  house.  They  should  turn 
out  some  terrific  shows. 

*  *     * 

We  like  to  point  out  how  television 
can  be  of  help  in  the  community.  Last 
month  we  told  about  the  police  lineup 
telecasts;  now  NBC  teamed  up  with  the 
Veterans  Administration  and  put  on  a 
show  called  Operation  Success  which 
displayed  the  abilities  and  skills  of  job- 
less disabled  vets.  Two  hours  after  the 
broadcast,  300  employers  came  through 
with  jobs;  final  total  was  close  to  800! 

*  *     * 

Everybody  remembers  Dizzy  Dean, 
one  of  the  most  famous  and  colorful  of 
the  baseball  greats.  Well,  Dizzy  is 
now  doing  baseball  commentary  over 
KSD-TV  in  St.  Louis.  Dizzy  supplied 
many  a  baseball  announcer  with  plenty 
of  material  in  his  day. 

*  *     * 

Rudy  Vallee  has  formed  a  company 
he  calls  Vallee-Video,  Inc.  V-V,  Inc.  has 
its  headquarters  in  the  Nassour  Studios 
in  Hollywood.  Rudy  is  doing  a  comedy 
series  called  "College  Life"  which  head- 
lines himself  and  gravel-voiced  Lionel 
Stander.  He  has  already  completed  a 
number  of  telefilm  shorts  which  tell  the 
story  of  popular  songs.    These  combine 

live  talent  and  cartoon  sketches. 

*  *     * 

If  you  or  anyone  you  know  is  inter- 
ested in  studying  the  technical  side  of 
television  with  an  eye  to  becoming  an 
installation  or  repair  man,  beware  the 
phony  schools  that  purport  to  turn  out 
skilled  technicians,  but  are  staffed  by 
inadequate  instructors.  A  survey  con- 
ducted by  the  New  York  State  Employ- 
ment Service  found  that:  "There  are 
practically  no  skilled  television  repair- 
men out  of  work"  but  "There  is  a  large 
supply  of  veterans"  who  are  graduates 
of  television  schools,  and  who  "find  it 
impossible  to  get  employment."  When 
the  RCA  Service  ran  large  ads  in  the 
New  York  papers  for  installation  tech- 
nicians, they  had  2,000  applicants,  but 

less  than  200  were  acceptable! 

*  *     * 

There  will  be  a  tele  station  in  Erie, 
Pennsylvania,  with  the  call  letters 
WICU.  Once  a  station  gets  going  every- 
one drops  the  initial  letter  when  re- 
ferring to  it;  ergo,  the  station  will  be 
called  "I-see-you." 


J\nd,  for  those  good-tasting  -foods 

that  bring  forth  happy  grins  at  breakfast, 
lunch   and   supper.   Because   G   stands   for 
Gerber's,  too— the  foods  so  many  babies  go 
for  — right  from  the  start. 

cSatmg's  really  An 

for  small  folks  if  every  meal  has  tempting  surprises. 
38   delicious   Gerber's  help  make   baby's  menus 
varied  and  vitamin-full.  Your  doctor  knows  which 
of  Gerber's  Fruits,  Vegetables,  Meat-combinations, 
Desserts,  and  Cereals  your  baby  can  enjoy  right  now. 

Qet  more  smiles  per  spoonful  I 

Thousands  of  mothers  do  — with  Gerber's!  So  al- 
ways look  for  the  Gerber  baby  on  a  wide  variety 
of  foods  baby  likes  and  needs.  Gerber's  Strained 
and  Junior  Foods  come  in  the  same  size  container 
— for  less  leftovers.  Same  low  price,  too. 


FREE  — samples  of  3  special  baby 
cereals.  Write  to  Gerber's 
Dept.  W8-8,  Fremont,  Mich. 


erber's 

BABY    FOODS 


FREMONT    MICH  OAKLANO.  CAL 


3  CEREALS 


20  STRAINED  FOODS 


IS  JUNIOR  FOODS 


this  i: 

Am£ftfa's°favorite 
obby  pin 

All  over  the  country,  smart  heads 
turn  to  Gayla  Hold-Bobs  to  keep 
hair  lovely,  smooth,  in  place. 
Hold-Bobs  slide  in  smoothly,  stay 
smore  securely,  feel  better,  hold 
betteT^Ihey're  strong  yet  flexible. 
The  small  heads  are  "invisible." 
And  the  rounded-for-safety  ends 
won't  catchhair.  Remember,  only 
Hol^©T5r5s  have  these  exclusive 
fea 


80 


HOLD-BOB 

BOBBY   PINS 

"Gayla"  means  the  best  in 
bobby  pins  •  hair  pin*  •  curlers 

CJ9«8,  OAYLORO  PRODUCTS,  INCORPORATED,  CHICAGO  IS,  ILU 
•  T.  M.    ACQ.  U.  t.   PAT.  OFP. 


We  Won  Our  Future 

(Continued  from  page  25) 


Our  walls  weren't  even  finished — just 
the  bare  boards  with  the  studding  show- 
ing. We  had  a  nice  davenport  and  bed, 
but  linoleum  and  wallpaper  and  cur- 
tains— not  to  mention  stoves  and  such — 
were  all  things  in  the  future  when  we 
could  squeeze  them  out  of  our  checks. 

Just  the  week  before  we  had  had  a 
celebration.  We  finally  had  our  own 
well! — instead  of  having  to  bring  water 
out  our  rural  route  from  the  center  of 
Lebanon,  nearly  a  mile  away. 

Sixteen  feet  by  twenty  feet,  our 
house  was.  You  can  certainly  under- 
stand why  I  was  so  haunted,  night  and 
day,  by  the  wonderful  prizes  offered  to 
the  winner  of  the  People  Are  Funny 
contest! 

When  I  had  sent  in  my  letter  I  had,  of 
course,  hit  on  an  answer.  But  was  it  the 
right  one? 

Big  Chief  Windbag — that  could  mean 
the  "air"  in  Cairo.  And  Cairo  was  a  city 
built  upon  the  ruins  of  others,  so  that 
could  answer  the  second  line  "I'm  one 
over  others  that  lie  in  decay."  Then  I 
had  looked  up  Cairo  in  the  World  Al- 
manac (everyone  in  a  small  town  or  on 
a  rural  route  is  familiar  with  the  pages 
of  the  World  Almanac)  and  found  the 
city  was  one  of  the  lowest  in  the  world, 
according  to  sea  level.  That  would  be 
the  "upon  low  ground."  But  the  re- 
curring phrase  "that's  all  .  .  .  that's  all 
I  will  say"  had  me  worried,  until  I  re- 
membered that  air  corps  pilots,  when 
they  wanted  to  stop  their  inter-plane 
conversations  signed  off  by  saying 
"thirty-thirty."  And  "thirty-thirty" 
meant  the  same  as  "that's  all  .  .  .  that's 
all."  Sure  enough,  the  latitude  and 
longitude  of  Cairo,  Egypt  was  30-30. 

(I  found  out,  afterwards,  that  my 
memory  hadn't  been  so  good.  It  was 
true  that  30-30  was  a  sign-off,  but  not 
for  aircorps  pilots.  It's  an  old  newspaper 
phrase,  that  I  had  heard  but  confused 
with  the  other.) 

Suddenly,  someone  banged  on  my 
door.   Someone  was  calling  my  name. 

"Mrs.  George!  You're  wanted  down 
at  the  store.  It's  a  long-distance  tele- 
phone call — from  Los  Angeles!" 

I  raced  the  three  blocks  to  the  store. 

People  stopped  their  store-buying  to 
listen,  shamelessly.  They  knew  about 
the  contest — and  that  I  was  being  called 
by  the  radio  program.  Mr.  Myler  kindly 
turned  off  his  refrigerating  system,  so 
the  humming  noise  it  made  wouldn't 
keep  me  from  hearing  over  the  phone. 
My  hands  were  shaking. 

It  was  a  man's  voice.  He  introduced 
himself  as  John  Guedal,  producer  of  the 
show.  He  told  me  my  letter  had  been 
picked  as  the  best,  the  most  genuinely 
sympathetic,  for  the  week — by  none 
other  than  contest  judge  Secretary  of 
Agriculture  Anderson,  himself.  I  was 
to  be  flown  down  Thursday  to  Los  An- 
geles by  TWA  plane  and  there  would  be 
a  hotel  room  reserved  for  me  right  in 
the  heart  of  Hollywood.  After  the  show 
on  Friday  I  would  be  flown  home. 

All  this  was  wonderful.  Then — first, 
cautiously  reminding  me  that  he  didn't 
know  the  answer,  himself — Mr.  Guedal 
wanted  to  know  what  my  answer  was  to 
the  riddle. 

I  told  him.  His  "Oh.  I  see"  was  ab- 
solutely noncommittal.  We  might  have 
been  talking  about  the  weather.  (But 
afterwards  I  found  out  they  were  mak- 
ing a  wire  recording  of  our  telephone 
conversation,  so  that  they  could  prove 
there  had  been  no  funny  business,  and 
that    I   had    guessed    the    answer    cor- 


rectly while  I  was  still  a  thousand  miles 
away,  and  not  after  I  arrived  in  Holly- 
wood where  it  might  be  conceivable 
that  I  could  be  tipped  off.  In  contests 
such  as  this  they  spare  no  pains  nor  ex- 
pense to  make  sure  that  everything  is 
on  the  level.) 

Then  he  hung  up. 

When  I  told  everyone  in  the  store, 
they  were  as  excited  as  I  was.  Poor  Mr. 
Myler  even  forgot  to  turn  on  his  re- 
frigeration again,  and  all  his  frozen  food 
for  that  day  was  spoiled! 

Ward,  my  husband,  was  a  little 
worried  when  he  came  home  that  night 
to  hear  the  news.  He  was  thrilled  I  was 
going  to  have  the  trip  and  the  days  in 
Hollywood — but  he  was  afraid  I  was 
building  my  hopes  up  way  too  high. 
After  all,  having  a  winning  letter  for 
the  week  was  only  the  first  step.  That 
only  enabled  me  to  get  on  the  program. 
It  didn't  mean  I  would  guess  the  correct 
answer  next  Friday  night  and  actually 
win  the  Bright  Future  that  the  People 
Are  Funny  show  was  promising. 

We  looked  around  our  little  box  of  a 
home  that  night,  Ward  and  I,  and 
thought  how  wonderful  it  would  be  if 
I  would  actually  win.  But  we  had 
learned,  through  tough  experience,  that 
dreams  are  not  easy  to  realize. 

When  we  had  met  first,  around  1941, 
on  the  campus  of  the  Oregon  State 
Agricultural  College,  everything  good 
had  seemed  possible.  We  were  young 
and  in  love  and  we  had  a  lovely  future 
planned,  together.  I  was  majoring  in 
Science  and  Ward  in  Education — to  be- 
come a  teacher.  But  we  hadn't  counted 
on  Pearl  Harbor. 

During  the  war  we  still  dreamed  our 
dreams,  through  our  letters.  I  had  a  job 
with  the  Civil  Service  Air  Corps  in 
Eugene,  Oregon,  and  Ward  was  with  the 
Infantry  in  far-off  New  Guinea.  We 
could  still  hope. 

But  after  the  war  it  was  much  harder 
to  hope  or  even  to  dream.  Ward  was  a 
disabled  veteran,  starting  all  over  again 
in  the  best  profession  that  the  Veterans' 
Administration  could  recommend  for 
his  malaria  and  his  battle-fatigued  con- 
dition. Instead  of  becoming  a  teacher, 
Ward  was  learning  about  shrubs  and 
plants  in  a  Lebanon  nursery  where  the 
VA  had  placed  him.  The  housing  short- 
age had  driven  us  to  our  mail  order 
house.  I  did  part-time  work  to  help  out. 
Our  windows  were  curtainless  and 
cheerless;  our  walls  and  floors  were 
bare  boards.  We  had  practically  noth- 
ing to  spend  for  fun. 

It  could  hardly  be  called  comfortable 
living. 

And  now  all  this  is  changed.  Because 
of  two  words  I  spoke  on  the  People  Are 
Funny  program,  over  the  NBC  airways. 
To  Ward,  sitting  alone  in  our  Lebanon 
house,  listening  to  the  program  that 
night,  and  to  me  in  the  broadcast  studio 
— it  meant  the  same  thing.  A  crazy,  im- 
possible, glorious  dream  come  true. 

I  didn't  go  back  right  away.  Ward 
flew  down  to  Hollywood  to  join  me.  We 
spent  a  week,  mostly  just  wandering 
through  that  prize  home,  feasting  our 
eyes  on  all  the  things  that  are  actually 
ours,  now.  Ward's  job  was  arranged 
for — a  good  job  in  a  Nursery  close  to 
our  new  home.  We  drove  back  to  Ore- 
gon in  our  brand-new  car.  We  said 
goodbye  to  our  friends  and  settled  up 
our   affairs. 

As  I  told  Art  Linkletter — "Maybe 
people  are  funny,  but  to  me,  people  are 
kind.  To  me,  you  have  been  Santa  Claus." 


I 


Do  men  see  thrilling 


TOM  WILLIAMS,  the  Old  Dirt  Dob- 
ber  of  CBS's  Garden  Gate,  started 
early  to  make  gardens  and  garden- 
ing his  hobby.  When  he  was  five  years 
old,  his  mother  gave  him  some  blue 
iris  bulbs,  and  watching  his  very  own 
plants  sprout  and  flower  proved  so 
fascinating  that  there  was  no  stopping 
him  after  that.  Now,  heard  on  the 
CBS  network  Saturday  mornings — con- 
sult your  newspapers  for  the  exact 
time  in  your  area — he  is  widely  known 
as  a  horticultural  expert. 

Williams  was  born  in  Nashville, 
Tennessee,  on  July  12,  1891.  His  father, 
a  minister  in  the  Church  of  Christ, 
editor  and  book  reviewer,  bestowed 
the  "gift  of  gab"  on  his  son.  Correct 
use  of  the  spoken  word  was  impressed 
on  the  Williams  children  and  quiz  pro- 
grams were  conducted  at  every  meal. 
Tom  shone  whenever  the  questions 
were  about  birds,  flowers  and  trees. 

After  being  graduated  from  high 
school  and  taking  special  courses  in 
art  and  at  trade  schools,  Williams  ac- 
cepted a  position  with  the  National 
Highways  Association  in  Washington, 
D.  C.  During  the  first  World  War,  Tom 
joined  the  Army  and  served  as  a 
sergeant  instructor  at  Charlotte,  N.  C. 

At  one  period  in  his  life,  Williams 
took  to  the  road,  working  for  insurance 
companies.  During  his  travels,  he  pur- 
sued his  gardening  hobby  on  the 
premises  of  local  nurserymen  and 
florists.  All  through  his  youth,  Tom 
cultivated  his  flowers  so  well  that  there 
are  now  thousands  of  offshoot  bulbs 
in  beds  bordering  his  gardens  at  Brent- 
wood, a  suburb  of  Nashville,  and  many 
more  thousands  are  scattered  through- 
out the  country,  gifts  to  his  many 
friends. 

Williams  married  in  1927.  Mrs.  Wil- 
liams laid  out  the  gardens  of  their 
Brentwood  home,  and  they  have 
bloomed  to  so  great  a  beauty  that  they 
have  attracted  visitors  from  every  state. 

It  was  this  constant  stream  of  visi- 
tors that  made  J.  T.  Ward,  owner  of 
Station  WLAC  in  Nashville,  think  a 
radio  program  about  gardening  might 
be  a  good  idea.  That  was  in  193& 
Williams  is  still  on  the  job,  although 
printing  remains  his  main  business  in- 
terest. Five  years  ago,  the  Dirt  Dob- 
ber's  program  began  to  go  out  nation- 
wide on  Saturday  mornings  over  CBS 
and  has  been  gaining  in  popularity  ever 
since. 

Tom  Williams  has  a  daughter,  Peggy 
Jean  Williams,  who  is  well  on  the  way 
to  becoming  a  horticultural  expert  her- 
self. 


<«a 


? 


UQUfP  CfcEME 
...so  smooth  fe  use  I 


YES,  you  can  thank  the  plain,  old- 
fashioned  hen  for  making 
Richard  Hudnut  Shampoo  sooth- 
ing, catessing,  kind-to-your-hair. 
Because  this  grand  new  shampoo 
contains  real  egg  in  powdered  form! 
Now — a  shampoo  that  acts  gently  to 
reveal  extra  hair  beauty.  Now — a 
new  kind  of  shampoo  created  for 
patrons  of  Hudnut' s  Fifth  Avenue 
Salon  .  .  .  and  for  you! 

A  New  Kind  of  Hair  Beauty  from 
a  World-Famous  Cosmetic  House 


Not  a  .dulling,  dry- 
ing soap/Contains 
no  wax  or  paste. 
Richard  Hudnut 
Shampoo  is  a 
sm-o-o-o-th  liquid 
creme.  Beauty- 
bathes  hair  to 
"love-lighted"  per- 
fection. Rinses  out 
quickly,  leaving  hair 
easy  to  manage, 
free  of  loose 
dandruff.  At  drug  and 
department  stores. 


enriched  creme 

shampoo 


81 


NOW  I  FEEL  LIKE 
SIXTEEN  r  ^ 
AGAIN! 


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energy  of  a  young  girl  recap- 
tured. .  .  .  Tum-E-Lift  makes 
me  feel  like  a  new  woman 
again!" — such  are  the  phrases 
in  the  voluntary  testimonials 
we  constantly  receive.  For  ex- 
ample: "I  like  my  Tum-E-Lift 
...  I  feel  like  16  again  and  I 
am  37  now,"  says  Mrs.  A.  S. 
of  Detroit. 

So  don't  let  waistline  bulge 
and  a  tired  back  get  you  downl 
Lift  up  that  dragging,  sagging 
abdomen  with  a  Tum-E-Lift, 
the  controlling,  slenderizing 
supporter  belt  which  brings  in- 
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You  Will  Feel  IVew,  Too! 

Because  you'll  find  Tum-E-Lift  a  pleasure  to 
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to  me.  It  made  a  lot  of  difference  in  my  figure, 
and  I  feel  great  comfort  wearing  it.  Don't 
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Mail  coupon  below  for  your  Tum-E-Lift  today 
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% 


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Tum-E-Lift  is  scientifically  constructed 
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port. Lightweight  —  amazingly  strong. 
Adjustable  front  panels,  of  lustrous 
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you  want  it^merely  tighten  or  loosen 
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Here's  the  secret  of  Tum-E-Lift— it's  made  of 
2-way   s-t-r-e-t-c-h— a    lightweight   "miracle" 
cloth    that's   powerfully   strong.    Washing    ac- 
tually    preserves     its    strength.     Long     metal 
rihs  in   front — short  ones   in   back— absolutely 
prevent     "ridlng-up,"     curling,     rolling,     or 
bulging.     Detachable    garters.     Color:     Nude. 
DeLachable   crotch   of    soft    melanese    for   personal    convei 
ience.    Genuine   Tum-E-Lift   is   an    exclusive,    slenderizln 
abdominal    support— obtainable    only    from     us — accept 
substitutes.     Remember,    you    get    the    same 
lit    and    comfort    you    would    expect    from    a 
made-to-order   supporter-helt   costing   2    to    n 
times  the  price  of  Tum-E-Lift. 

LOOK  INCHES  SLIMMER  AT  ONCE! 

just  like  magic.  Tum-E-Lift  smooths  and 
lifts  your  bulging  "tummy,"  lending 
prompt  and  comfortable  support  to  weak- 
ened abdominal  muscles.  You  look  tnchea 
bllmmer  instantly.  Yet.  Tum-E-Lift  Is 
flexible— it  allows  complete  freedom  of 
movement.  Bend,  stoop,  walk,  sit,  recline 
—  this  marvelous  support  is  always  de- 
lightfully comfortable.  Yes,  the  vitalitj 
and  comfort  you  get  from  Tum-E-Lift 
actually  Increase  from  day  to  day. 
SEND  NO  MONEY.  For  thrilling  satisfac- 
tion, try  the  slenderizing  Tum-E-Lift  on 
1 0-DAY  TRIAL.  Send  no  money— Just 
mall  coupon.  Pay  postman  $3.98  plus  few 
cents  postage  when  package  arrives.  If 
Tum-E-Lift  doesn't  mane  "a  world  of 
difference"  send  It  back  and  vnur  S3. 98  _, 
will   be  promptly   refunded.  TJT~ 

Wm  H  mm  BFREE    TRIAL    COUPON  ■■  ■  ill 

m  S.    J.    WEOMAN    CO.,    Dept.    861  IJ 

19  East  45th  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 
Send  me  for  10  days'  approval  .  .  .  genuine  Holly- 
wood Tum-E-Lift  Supporters.  I  will  pay  ponLman  S3  98 
■  each  nlUH  postage  r$4.98  if  over  size  38).  if  not  100<%> 
MatlHfWI.  I  may  return  It  for  refund.  I  enclose  dimen- 
sion* anked  for  In  picture  above.  My  present  waist 
I  measure  Is Hips  are  (Waist 
sizes  from  22  Inches.)  Height  Is  I  n.m 
accustomed  to  wearing  o  n  long,  short  0  girdle. 
■j  Also  plcaso  send  .          extra  crotches  at  59c  each. 


■  Name 

I   A. Mi  ■■■. 


State , 

se  payment  i 

'ABLE    ONLY     FROM     US. 


i',2 


D  Wf   piiv   pomnnf   If   \ 
J  TUM-E-LIFT     IS    OHTAf'ABLE    ONLY     FNOM     US. 


Facing  the  Music 

(Continued  from  page  11) 


arrangements  each  week — one  for  the 
band  and  one  for  Bing. 

Camarata's  insatiable  desire  to  learn 
more  about  music  led  to  further  school- 
ing at  the  Juilliard  School,  where  he 
earned  a  trumpet  fellowship,  and  to 
study  with  the  late  Cesar  Sodero,  who 
conducted  the  Italian  wing  of  the 
Metropolitan  Opera  Company  for  many 
years. 

After  leaving  the  Dorsey  band,  Tutti 
continued  to  arrange  and  conduct  for 
Der  Bingle's  record  dates.  His  musical 
background  attracted  many  other  art- 
ists to  him.  He  arranged  or  conducted 
for  such  talent  as  Dick  Haymes,  Tony 
Martin,  Vic  Damone,  Eugenia  Baird, 
Andy  Russell,  Helen  Forrest,  Jean 
Sablon,  Hazel  Scott,  Evelyn  Knight, 
Anne  Shelton,  Beryl  Davis  and  many 
bands.  When  J.  Arthur  Rank  decided 
to  produce  a  musical  film  in  the  Amer- 
ican fashion,  Camarata  was  hired  to 
arrange  and  conduct  for  "London 
Town."  His  work  on  the  film  and  his 
background  as  musical  director  for 
Decca,  caused  London  Records  to  en- 
gage Camarata  as  musical  director. 

His  original  compositions,  "Rumbo- 
lero,"  "Rhapsody  For  Saxophone," 
"Fingerbustin'  "  and  "Tall  Trees"  have 
gained  for  Tutti  recognition  as  a  great 
new  talent  among  modern  composers. 

"The  greatest  kicks  I've  had,"  muses 
Tutti,  "were  either  the  days  with  Jim- 
my Dorsey  or,  more  recently,  while 
conducting  the  Kingsway  Symphony 
Orchestra  in  London.  As  for  all  the 
greats  I've  worked  with,  I  guess  Bing 
was  the  easiest.  He  doesn't  need  any 
rehearsal.  Once  through  a  song  and  he 
walks  up  to  the  mike  and  makes  the 
final  record. 

"Right  now,  though,  I'm  concentrat- 
ing on  some  more  original  music.  At 
the  suggestion  of  publisher  Al  Brack- 
man  I'm  writing  an  American  Railroad 
Suite.  It  will  be  in  four  movements 
and  is  intended  to  tell  the  story,  in 
music,  of  the  many  peoples  who  worked 
on  building  the  fabulous  network  of 
track  that  criss-crosses  America. 
There  is  so  much  wonderful  material 
about  which  to  write  that  my  problem 
is  one  of  omission  rather  than  inclusion. 
I  should  like  to  write  about  such  events 
as  the  race  between  the  Pony  Express 
and  the  first  mail  train.  It's  the  most 
intriguing  work  I've  attempted." 
*       .  #         * 

There'll  be  no  shortage  of  Guy  Lom- 
bardo  records  for  at  least  another  two 
years,  if  the  current  record  ban  lasts 
that  long.  In  addition  to  about  50  as 
yet  unreleased  recordings  of  new  tunes 
which  Guy  waxed  during  the  last 
months  of  1947,  Decca  has  on  hand 
about  75  sides  that  were  recorded  four 
years  ago  and  never  released.  These 
are  "standards"  and  feature  the  ever- 
popular  music  of  Gershwin,  Kern, 
Rodgers  and  Berlin. 


loome  fo  a,  $€1/14™ 


When  it  comes  to  boxing  you  can  in- 
clude the  Three  Suns  out,  as  Morty 
Nevins  has  discovered.  Morty,  who 
plays  the  accordion  in  the  musical  trio, 
started  taking  boxing  lessons  as  a 
means  of  keeping  fit  and  flat  waisted. 
He  was  doing  all  right  until  Lloyds  of 
London  laid  down  the  law.  The  boys 
had  recently  insured  their  hands  for  a 
total  of  $500,000  and,  since  boxing  is 
considered  "undue  risk  to  the  fingers," 
Lloyds  said  no  boxing  or  no  policy. 
Morty'll  have  to  do  push-ups. 

*  *         * 

Frank  De  Vol's  no  fool.  Barbers  are 
always  offering  him  tonics  and  pana- 
ceas for  his  baldness,  but  Frank  turns 
them  all  down.  "With  hair,"  says  the 
maestro,  "I'd  be  just  another  orchestra 
leader — and  with  a  great  deal  less  value 
in  comedy." 

*  *         * 

Meredith  Willson's  supporting  cast 
for  his  new  show  is  all  signed  for  an 
ABC  run  starting  in  September.  It 
includes  Paulena  Carter,  piano  prodigy. 
Josef  Marais  and  Miranda,  African  folk 
singers,  and  the  famous  "Talking 
People." 

*  *         * 

People  are  talking  about  the  amazing 
rise  of  Illinois  Jacquet.  A  little  over  a 
year  ago  he  was  with  Count  Basie,  and 
this  year  he'll  gross  a  million  dollars 
with  his  own  band. 


If  you  like  folk  music,  don't  miss 
Alan  Lomax's  new  ballad  book,  Folk 
Song;  U.S.A.  Lomax  has  dedicated 
the  volume  .  .  .  "To  ballad-makers,  long 
dead  and  nameless;  to  the  jockey  boys 
whose  smiles  are  dust;  to  the  singers  of 
the  lumberwoods,  the  cattle  trail,  the 
chain  gang,  the  kitchen;  to  fiddlers  in 
buckskin;  to  banjo  pickers;  to  lonesome 
harmonica  blowers;  and  to  the  horny- 
handed,  hospitable,  generous,  honest, 
and  inspired  folk-artists  who  carved 
these  songs  out  of  the  rock  of  their 
lives,  we  dedicate  this,  their  own  book." 
Which  makes  Lomax  somewhat  of  a 
writing  artist,  in  our  book. 

The  Jerry  Wayne  Show  with  Alvy 
West,  which  Columbia  put  on  the  air 
in  a  five  a  week  musical  series,  the 
early  part  of  June,  is  rounding  up  a 
series  of  outstanding  vocalists  and  in- 
strumentalists, as  if  Jerry's  voice  and 
Alvy's  Little  Band  hadn't  enough  ad- 
mirers of  their  own.  It  adds  up  to  quite 
a    fifteen    minutes,    beginning    at    7:30 

P.M.,  EDT. 

*         *         * 

Pretty  Patti  Clayton  has  been  bitten 
by  the  quiz  bug  and  is  now  part  of  the 
cast  of  Sing  It  Again,  the  intricate  hour- 
long  program  which  calls  for  twice- 
sung  old  favorites,  telephone  calls  and 
a  Mystery  Voice. 


ALICE  REINHEART  and  LES  TREMAYNE  are  having  a  few  friends 
to  dinner  in  their  New  York  apartment — and  you'll  be  there,  too, 
with  the 

September  RADIO   MIRROR 

on    sale   August    11th 


{Ctcmina  <JVext  zSvloMm 


FALLING  in  love  to  the  songs  of 
Hoagy  Carmichael  is  practically  a 
national  habit.  Now  that  Hoagy 
is  singing  those  songs,  and  others,  on 
the  CBS  air,  everyone  wants  to  know 
more  about  "the  fellow  who  wrote 
Stardust."  And  more  is  what  we 
find  out  when  we  move  in  on  the 
Carmichael  family  in  our  September 
issue.   Come  and  visit  with  us! 


Mary  Noble,  Backstage  Wife,  relives 
some  of  the  highlights  of  her  life 
with  Larry  in  a  four-page  picture 
feature,  with  a  color-portrait  of  the 
Nobles  that  will  make  a  most  attrac- 
tive addition  to  your  collection.  From 
the  Betty  Crocker  program  comes  a 
husband-and-wife  story  to  make  you 
laugh,  cry,  and  stand  up  and  cheer — ■ 
a  true  story,  straight  from  the  loving 
hearts  of  a  couple  who  know  what 
marriage  should  be. 


Another  September  special — very 
special  indeed — is  a  friend's-eye  view 
of  a  man  whose  private  life  doesn't 
often  appear  in  the  public  press: 
Lowell  Thomas.  It's  an  exciting  tale, 
the  background  of  this  man  whose 
name  conjures  up  far  places,  roman- 
tic adventure  and,  to  those  who 
know  him,  baseball!  It's  illustrated 
with  color,  too,  to  bring  you  an  inti- 
mate glimpse  of  the  Thomases  at 
home. 


Thousands  of  you  have  been  waiting 
for  the  memorial  to  Tom  Breneman 
that  appears  in  September.  And  the 
regular  panel  of  Radio  Mirror  fea- 
tures is,  we  think,  one  of  the  best 
we've  planned.  So  check  your  news- 
dealer on  Wednesday,  August  11th — 
that's  when  September  Radio  Mirror 
goes  on  sale. 


What  Is  Your 

HEART'S 
DESIRE? 

No  matter  what  it 
may  be,  your  dream 
can  come  true. 


Listen  to  "Heart's 
Desire,"  every  day 
Monday  thru  Friday 
on  your  Mutual  sta- 
tion. 

Read  about  this  amaz- 
ing show,  rich  in 
heart  appeal,  humor 
and  love  in  this 
month's 

True  Romance 
Magazine 


Is  your  daughter  ashamed  to  ask  about 
these  c^^y^s^u^^/ 


Before  She  Marries  —  Make  Sure  She  Learns 
The  REAL  TRUTH ! 


Mother!  Your  daughter  has  a  right  to 
know  how  necessary  vaginal  douching 
often  is  to  cleanliness,  health,  mar- 
riage happiness,  to  combat  odor,  and 
after  menstrual  periods.  In  fact,  today 
it's  not  a  question  of  douching  but 
rather  what  to  put  in  the  douche. 

And  certainly  both  you  and  your 
daughter  should  realize  no  other 
type  liquid  antiseptic-germicide  tested 
for  the  douche  is  so  powerful  yet  so 
safe  to  tissues  as  zonite.  Scientific 
tests  have  proved  this  to  be  so ! 

Developed  By  A  World-Famous 
Surgeon  and  Scientist 

Pity  the  old-fashioned  woman  who, 
from  ignorant  advice  passed  along  by 
friends,  still  uses  salt,  soda  or  vinegar 
for  the  douche.  Foolish  girl!  Doesn't 
she  realize  these  'kitchen  makeshifts' 
are  not  germicides  in  the  douche — 
that  they  never  in  the  world  can 
assure  you  the  great  germicidal  and 
deodorizing  action  of  zonite  ? 


Zonite 


S< 


FOR   NEWER 


eminine 


'XT' 


iene 


Some  day  you'll  realize  the  impor- 
tance of  using  a  germicide  intended  for 
vaginal  douching.  So  why  not  benefit 
by  zonite  now?  Buy  it  today. 

A  Modern  Miracle 

zonite  positively  contains  no  phenol, 
no  mercury,  no  harsh  acids — over- 
strong  solutions  of  which  may  damage 
tissues  and  in  time  even  impair  func- 
tional activity  of  mucous  glands.  You 
can  use  zonite  as  directed  as  often  as 
needed  without  the  slightest  risk  of 
injury,  zonite  is  absolutely  non-irri- 
tating, non-poisonous,  non-burning. 

zonite  actually  destroys  and  re- 
moves odor-causing,  clinging  waste 
substances.  Helps  guard  against 
infection.  It  immediately  kills  every 
germ  it  touches.  You  know  it's  not 
always  possible  to  con  tact  all  the  germs 
in  the  tract.  But  you  can  be  sire 
zonite  does  kill  every  reachable 
germ  and  keeps  them  from  multiply- 
ing. Complete  douching  directions 
with  every  bottle.  Any  drugstore. 

FREE!     NEW! 

For  amazing  enlightening   nfw 

Booklet  containing  frank  discussion 

of  intimate  physical  facts,  recently 

published — mail   this  coupon   to 

Zonite   Products,    Dept.    RM-88,    370 

Lexington  Ave.,  New  York   17.   X.   Y. 


Nome- 
Address- 


Stotr. 


I 

M 

83 


nationally  famous 


STYIE  #100 


'Til  Make  the  San  Fernando  Valley  My  Home" 


(Continued  from  page  33) 


All  tizet  Including  junior 


A80UT 


"GOOD  BEHAVIOR"  PAYS  -  WIN  *75 

Write  ui  In  100  word!  or  leii ...  on  outstond- 
ing  example  ol  Good  Behavior  or  Courtesy  (It 
may  or  may  not  hove  anything  to  do  with  a 
slip).  Each  month  we  will  award  $75.  to  the 
writer  ol  the  most  intereiting  incident.  Win- 
ners'names  will  be  announced  in  ads.  No  mail 
returned.  Write  lOi  MOVIE  STAR  LETTERBOX. 
IS?  Madison  Avenue.  New  York,  N.  Y. 

Dept.  RM-I 

"All  entries  must  be  postmarked 
not  later  than  August  31, 1948."  j 

MOVIE    STAR    inc. 

(5?  Madison  Avenue.  New  York,  N.  Y. 


As  M.C.  of  ABC's  Breakfast  in  Holly- 
wood, Tom  had  to  keep  farmer's  hours 
anyway,  and  it  was  a  toss-up  whether 
he  woke  the  hens  or  the  hens  woke  him. 
Orders  at  his  Hollywood  restaurant 
were  to  make  sure,  always,  that  his 
own  hens'  products  found  their  way 
to  the  boss's  plate.  "It  isn't  that  I  don't 
trust  boughten  eggs,"  he  used  to  say. 
"It's  just  that  I  know  what  my  hens 
are  doing.  I  know  they  keep  busy. 
And  there's  nothing  like  a  nice  fresh 
yolk  to  start  off  each  day." 

NBC  has  a  female  contender  for  the 
chicken  crown.  Judy  Canova  com- 
plains, however,  that  her  thirty  hens 
have  too  much  temperament,  too  ex- 
pensive appetites,  and  too  long  pedi- 
grees— especially  when  you  consider 
that  they  absolutely  refuse,  under 
any  circumstances,  to  lay  eggs!  So, 
until  she  finds  a  way  to  get  them  back 
on  a  producing  basis,  Judy  has  friends 
buy  eggs  for  her  on  the  sly  at  a  neigh- 
borhood supermarket. 

John  Scott  Trotter  is  trying  valiantly 
to  throw  in  the  sponge.  Several  years 
of  living  all  alone  with  22  acres  of  avo- 
cados, lemons,  apricots,  walnuts  and 
peaches,  not  to  mention  four  of  the 
more  aristocratic  types  of  oranges, 
have  done  him  in. 

HE  INSISTS  that  it  is  the  machine  age 
that  got  him.  He  could  have  tended 
the  crops  by  himself  if  he  had  ever  been 
able  to  master  the  gadgets  and  sheds 
of  modern  equipment  he  owns.  But 
when,  after  a  whole  year  of  practice, 
he  and  his  tractor  still  cannot  turn  out 
a  straight  furrow,  he  concedes  he  isn't 
a  farmer. 

So  does  he  put  an  ad  in  the  "Farms 
For  Sale"  Column  of  the  local  daily, 
the  Valley  Times?  Ah,  dear  me  no! 
This  is  ranching  San  Fernando!  He 
hires  a  firm  to  make  color  movies  and 
dozens  of  stills  of  his  bit  of  earth,  and 
these  Hollywood  presentations  will  be 
shown  to  prospective  buyers  from 
coast  to  coast. 

There's  sterner  stuff  behind  that  un- 
mown  bit  of  hay  on  friend  Jerry  Co- 
lonna's  upper  lip.  Jerry  and  his  pal, 
Monte  Montana,  whose  farm  is  "up  the 
road  a  piece,"  have  tried  to  make  their 
nags  break  even  by  riding  industri- 
ously in  round-ups,  rodeos,  and  pa- 
rades. Unfortunately,  when  Jerry  is  in 
the  prize  money  the  greenbacks  turn 
out  to  be  blue  ribbons  (non-edible  and 
non-convertible).  So  Colonna  bought 
a  donkey. 

Now  if  he  can  teach  the  donkey 
a  hatful  of  proper  rodeo  tricks  he's 
home.  The  great  Colonna  hasn't  given 
in — however,  at  present,  neither  has 
the  donkey. 

When  they  do  give  up,  they  do  it  in 
true  Hollywood  style.  Wendell  Niles 
of  the  Hope  show  swapped  his  oat 
burner,  Anndear,  for  a  plastic  lined 
swimming  pool.  He  is  leaving  the 
breeding  of  race  horses  to  the  Vander- 
bilts  and  the  Howards  who,  he  ex- 
plains, have  more  "time." 

Cliff  Arquette  of  ABC's  Point  Sub- 
lime, frustrated  and  furious  at  the 
gophers  who  destroyed  his  careful 
planting  in  equally  careful  rotation, 
sunk  a  genuine  100%  concrete  swim- 
ming pool  and  challenged  them  to 
"sharpen  their  teeth  on  that  awhile." 
But  the  fevers  have  abated  and  he  is 
now  muttering  gigantic  plans  about 
stocking  the  pool  with  trout  in  the 
winter    months    and    the    commercial 


value  of  the  lowly  water-lily. 

The  basic  difficulty  between  the 
amateur  farmer  and  his  livestock  has 
been  carefully  worked  out  by  ABC's 
Mayor  of  the  Town. 

"It  is,"  says  Lionel  Barrymore,  "a 
bloody  business.  You  have  to  be  a  real 
hard-hearted  Hannah.  The  chickens 
are  raised  to  be  killed.  The  steer  are 
killed.  Everything  on  a  farm  seems 
to  be  raised  to  slaughter.  The  young 
bull  calves  have  to  be  taken  away  from 
their  mamas  and  they  yell — and  yell — " 

So  Lionel  raises  cats.  Whether  he 
likes  it  or  no.  At  any  time  there  are 
from  seven  to  seventeen  felines  prowl- 
ing the  Barrymore  ancestral  acres  pay- 
ing due  homage  to  the  great  man's 
special  and  initial  kitty,  Puke. 

After  careful  scrutiny  of  his  first 
water  bill,  Lionel  decided  to  leave  all 
types  of  farming  to  farmers.  But  by 
the  sweat  of  his  brow  via  the  air  waves 
and  the  flicks  he  has  managed  to  keep 
all  that  is  best  in  the  life  of  a  farmer. 
He  has  a  few  gooseberry  bushes,  a  few 
peach  trees,  and  a  reasonably  healthy 
crop  of  radishes  on  his  twenty-five 
acres.  "What  the  birds  don't  eat,  we 
get,"  he  brags  complacently.  And  he 
has  quiet,  room  to  breathe,  a  brook,  and 
a  fast  moving  feud  with  an  elderly 
neighbor  which  keeps  both  of  them 
sharp.  What  more  could  a  farmer  ask? 

Producer  Robert  Sparks  discovered 
that  his  good  wife,  Penny  Singleton, 
was  not  of  the  hard-hearted  stuff  that 
makes  good  farmers  either.  She  turned 
the  turkeys  and  the  rabbits  into  house- 
hold pets,  giving  them  loving  shelter 
when  they  were  pronounced  ready  for 
table.  She  sneaks  liver  and  other  choice 
tidbits  to  the  cats  so  that  they  have  no 
interest  in  mice  and  cheerfully  accepted 
a  "dear  little  puppy"  from  her  friend, 
Maureen  O'Hara,  which  grew  and  grew 
into  an  outsized  Great  Dane. 

ANOTHER  wife  who  has  much  to  an- 
swer for  is  Gale  Page.  She  is  cur- 
rently trying  to  make  it  up  to  husband, 
Count  Aldo  Solito  de  Solis,  concert 
pianist,  for  using  their  fertile  acres  for 
eighty-six  roses  (non-edible),  ten  ca- 
mellia bushes  and  a  dozen  pedigreed 
canaries  who  won't  sing.  She  has 
planted  twenty-six  varieties  of  grapes. 
She  maintains  that  grape  jelly  will  pro- 
vide a  fine  source  of  income  to  offset 
the  high  cost  of  gardening.  All  she 
needs  is  (a)  time  to  put  up  a  few  hun- 
dred pints  and  (b)  to  find  out  that  the 
grapes  are  what  the  man  told  her  they 
were  when  she  bought  them. 

All  this  without  mentioning  the  pi- 
geons. This  is  a  very  sore  subject  around 
the  de  Solis  barnyard.  It  started  when 
Gloria  and  Leopold  Stokowski  gave 
them  a  happy  pigeon  pair,  Peleas  and 
Melisande,  who  started  a  dynasty  when 
no  one  was  looking.  Now  there  are 
twelve  pigeon  families  who  either  have 
had,  or  are  having,  or  will  have,  more 
pigeons.  The  tragedy  of  all  this  being 
that  a  pigeon,  farmer-wise,  is  simply  a 
fancy  squab  masquerading  under  a  lot 
of  feathers.  But,  notwithstanding  the 
current  market  price  of  squab,  no  one 
has  the  courage  to  tell  the  enchanted 
Gale  what  her  precious  pigeons  would 
be,  if  they  were  properly  denuded  and 
beheaded. 

The  ranch  home  of  Dinah  Shore  and 
George  Montgomery  is  a  success  story. 
But  then  George  is  no  amateur.  He 
was  raised  on  a  ranch  and,  says  his  wife 
proudW,  "If  you  want  to  make  a  place 


pay  you  have  to  work  it  yourself." 
George  does.  And  Dinah  is  catching 
on  very  fast. 

They  started  with  six  acres  on  the 
border  between  Encino  and  Tarzana 
which  had  once  been  an  old  Spanish 
fiesta  ground.  They  built  themselves 
a  charming  house  around  the  old  barn. 
They  have  chickens,  guinea  hens  and 
pheasants  for  their  table.  When  the 
price  of  feed  gets  too  high  they  pop  all 
the  chicks  into  the  deep  freeze.  They 
have  two  young  steer  purchased  from 
Joel  McCrea  during  the  drought  which 
graze  in  their  alfalfa  pasture  in  com- 
pany with  another  which  they  are 
boarding  for  owner  Niven  Bush.  They 
raise  hay  and  furthermore,  they  sell  it. 
For  money. 

To  crown  all  this,  Dinah  actually  does 
most  of  the  canning  for  their  own  use 
and  George,  from  a  lowly  A  in  manual 
training  at  high  school,  has  become  the 
ace  Valley  furniture  maker.  He  com- 
pletely furnished  their  house,  sold 
pieces  to  Dottie  Lamour,  the  McCreas, 
the  Alan  Ladds,  and  now  has  gone  pro 
and  built  himself  a  factory  close  by  the 
ranch.  His  reproductions  of  Colonial 
American  pieces  are  carefully  and 
beautifully  executed — Radio  Mirror 
showed  some  in  May  with  the  story  of 
Missy,  the  Montgomerys'  new  baby. 

The  earthy  touch  is  completed  by  The 
Duke,  a  banty  rooster  who  has  won 
Dinah's  heart.  He  was  raised  on  the 
ranch,  has  distinguished  himself  by  sir- 
ing seventy-three  children,  and  his  life 
is  saved  constantly  by  the  quick  think- 
ing of  his  beautiful  protectress.  "The 
day,"  Dinah  says,  "that  anything  hap- 
pens to  The  Duke,  George  will  be  a 
single  man  again." 

DEFINITELY  in  the  pro  class  comes 
Gene  Autry  with  his  390-acre  "Mel- 
ody Ranch"!  Here  he  has  the  grazing 
pasture  for  his  horses  and  acres  of 
citrus  fruit  which  he  markets  at  a 
healthy  profit.  "Melody  Ranch"  has 
several  cousins  in  Arizona  and  Okla- 
homa where  Gene  keeps  his  chickens. 

However,  I  can't  say  how  the  other 
pros  in  Texas  and  New  Mexico  would 
react  to  having  a  horse  in  the  house. 
Champ,  Gene's  famous  movie  mount, 
occupies  the  full  right  wing  of  the  ranch 
dwelling.  It  took  persuasion,  money 
and  ingenuity  to  perfect  the  system  of 
sound-proofing,  air  conditioning,  and 
special  drainage  which  permits  this  lux- 
ury, but  all  Gene  has  to  do  is  whistle 
and  Champ  leaves  his  front  door  and 
waltzes  in  the  twilight  in  the  patio  of 
the  house. 

It  is  natural  enough  that  since  the 
Valley  is  running  the  boys  ragged  they 
should  see  what  they  can  do  about  run- 
ning the  Valley.  Andy  Devine  is  Mayor 
of  Van  Nuys.  Abbott  and  Costello  have 
sewed  up  the  community  of  Sherman 
Oaks  by  becoming  Mayor  and  Chief  of 
Police  respectively.  Bud  Abbott  lob- 
bied cross-country  to  get  a  branch  bank 
for  his  township  in  the  hopes  that  the 
farmers  would  stash  away  their  nickels 
before  someone  sold  them  a  herd  of 
purple  cows  or  a  hatful  of  beans  for  a 
beanstalk. 

But,  by  and  large,  the  most  envied 
man  in  the  Valley  is  the  anonymous 
gent  who  sails  serenely  around  in  a 
dilapidated  station  wagon  bearing  the 
large  legend  on  his  door:  No  Tengo 
Rancho.  The  "haves"  regard  this 
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"He  has  no  Rancho,"  they  mutter. 
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Then  they  dash  into  town  to  tell  their 
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want  to  buy  an  additional  ten  acres. 
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The  Family  That  Prays  Together" 

(Continued  from  page  29) 


alone  to  a  broadcasting  room  at  Holly- 
wood's KHJ  to  participate  in  Father 
Pat's  first  network  Rosary  program.  On 
the  same  half  hour,  speaking  from  the 
East,  appeared  Francis  Cardinal  Spell- 
man  of  New  York,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Thomas  F.  Sullivan  of  Iowa,  parents  of 
the  five  Sullivan  brothers  who  went 
down  with  the  cruiser  Juneau. 

And  Father  Pat,  who  had  engineered 
free  network  time  on  his  promise  to 
produce  a  major  star,  found  it  a  thrill- 
ing thing  and  undertook  to  investigate 
the  possibilities  further. 

He  learned,  early  in  the  quest,  that 
free  air  time  dedicated  to  prayer  was 
virtually  unthinkable.  But  if  he  could 
procure  free  stars — who  knows?  Armed 
with  permission  from  his  superiors, 
Father  Peyton  boarded  a  train  and 
headed  west.  In  Los  Angeles  he  asked 
to  be  directed  to  the  church  nearest  the 
Union  Station,  and  so  reported  to  Msgr. 
John  J.  Cawley  at  St.  Vibiana's. 

THE  Monsignor  was  sympathetic.  He 
arranged  for  Father  Pat  to  speak  at 
the  Church  of  the  Good  Shepherd  in 
Beverly  Hills,  where  many  Hollywood 
stars  worship.  Shortly  Father  Pat  was 
talking  personally  to  Loretta  Young, 
and  had  her  promise  to  cooperate.  Jo- 
seph Cotten,  Maureen  O'Hara,  Ruth 
Hussey,  Bing  Crosby,  Barry  Fitzgerald, 
Pat  O'Brien,  Maureen  O'Sullivan,  Don 
Ameche,  George  Murphy,  Rosalind 
Russell,  Ethel  Barrymore,  Irene  Dunne, 
— the  stars  no  sooner  met  the  padre 
and  heard  his  "little  story"  than  they 
agreed  to  take  part. 

Within  six  weeks  he  had  thirty-one 
stellar  names,  and  he  had  even  remem- 
bered— a  detail  he  overlooked  at  first! 
— to  get  their  written  signatures  to  con- 
tracts. 

The  idea  by  now  had  grown.  Instead 
of  a  strictly  Catholic  Rosary  hour,  the 
program  now  would  appeal  to  people  of 
all  faiths,  to  Protestants  and  Jews  and 
Catholics  alike,  with  its  emphasis  on 
the.  power  of  prayer.  Especially  in 
these  troubled  times,  with  nations 
quarreling  and  homes  breaking  and  the 
souls  of  men  assailed  by  the  complexi- 
ties and  strains  of  modern  life,  espe- 
cially now  could  this  power  exert  its 
saving  force. 

Radio  advertising  men — Tom  Lewis, 
Robert  Longenecker,  Al  Scalpone — 
pitched  in  along  with  the  stars.  On 
February  13,  1947,  the  first  Family 
Theater,  starring  Loretta  Young,  James 
Stewart  and  Don  Ameche,  went  on  the 
air.  Since  then  about  150  different 
stars  have  appeared,  in  simple  uplift- 
ing dramas  all  bringing  home  the  mes- 
sage: "The  family  that  prays  together 
stays  together." 

But  the  real  beginning  of  Family 
Theater  goes  back  a  number  of  years 
to  the  little  town  of  Carracastle,  in 
County  Mayo,  Ireland,  where  a  small 
boy  named  Patrick  Peyton  grew  up, 
fifth  in  a  family  of  eleven  children. 

"From  the  time  I  attained  the  age  of 
reason,"  Father  Pat  recalls  today,  "I 
had  a  beautiful  picture  of  my  mother 
and  my  father  on  their  knees  together, 
saying  the  Rosary.  For  nineteen  years 
of  my  growing  up  those  daily  ten  min- 
utes of  adoration,  all  of  us  taking  part, 
were  as  normal  as  suppertime.  We 
were  a  poor  family,  but  spiritually  my 
father's  house  was  the  home  of  a  mil- 
lionaire. We  children  grew  up  know- 
ing  that   there   might   be   a   thousand 


little  annoyances  on  a  home's  surface 
and  yet — where  there  was  family 
prayer — a  rich  unity  at  bottom  that 
nothing  could  assail." 

Pat  and  his  older  brother  Tom  were 
among  the  children  who  came  to 
Scranton,  Pa.,  in  1928,  trying  to  find 
work  in  the  coal  mines.  Tom  became 
a  miner,  but  Pat  worked  as  janitor  at 
St.  Peter's  cathedral,  and  here  the  urge 
to  join  the  priesthood  rose  in  him.  Soon 
Tom  came  from  the  mines  with  the 
same  ambition.  The  two  boys,  Pat, 
nineteen  and  Tom,  twenty-one,  received 
scholarships  to  Moreau  Seminary  at 
South  Bend,  Ind.  They  were  graduated 
together,  served  their  novitiates  to- 
gether, and  after  four  years  at  Notre 
Dame  college  were  graduated  together 
in  1937.  They  became  American  citi- 
zens, and  were  sent  to  Washington  for 
further  study. 

Near  the  end  of  their  long  prepara- 
tion for  the  priesthood,  robust,  healthy 
Pat  fell  victim  to  tuberculosis  and  his 
hopes  were  dashed.  He  had  a  faith, 
however — and  a  family — equal  to  the 
scourge. 

"I  believe  in  Our  Lady  as  a  human 
person,"  he  testifies  now.  "I  believe  in 
Her  as  somebody's  daughter,  Who  has 
not  forgotten  what  it  is  to  be  human, 
Who  has  never  forgotten  me  when  I 
needed  Her.     I  prayed,  and — " 

His  mother,  back  in  Ireland,  prayed 
likewise,  offering  her  life.  His  sister 
Nellie,  in  Scranton,  offered  a  vow  of 
perpetual  virginity,  and  her  life,  if  Pat 
and  Tom  might  be  ordained  together. 
The  mother  is  dead  now.  Nellie  is 
dead.  Pat,  fully  recovered,  and  Tom 
were  ordained  at  Notre  Dame  on  the 
same  day  in  June,   1941. 

IN  GRATITUDE  to  Our  Lady,  in  grati- 
*  tude  for  "beautiful  memories  of  fam- 
ily prayer,"  Father  Pat  conceived  the 
plan  of  a  Rosary  by  radio.  This  began 
modestly  in  his  charge  at  Albany, 
N.  Y.,  in  1943,  when  thirteen  girls  told 
their  beads  over  a  local  station's  air.  But 
Father  Pat  dreamed  of  greater  tribute 
to  the  Virgin,  of  a  wider  audience  for 
the  message  of  prayer.  This  dream 
found .  fruition  in  the  Mother's  Day 
program  by  Bing  Crosby,  Cardinal 
Spellman  and  the  Sullivans.  Father 
Pat  dreamed  bigger,  and  worked  on. . . 

From  these  beginnings  grew  today's 
Family  Theater,  dedicated  to  the  cause 
of  prayer  and  to  home  life,  in  America 
and  wherever  it  is  heard. 

How  effectively  it  is  serving  its  high 
purpose  is  attested  with  each  day's  mail. 
Letters  of  commendation  and  appre- 
ciation have  been  received  from  people 
prominent  in  national  and  community 
life,  men  like  Henry  Ford  II,  FBI  chief 
J.  Edgar  Hoover,  Eric  Johnston,  and 
other  leaders  in  industry,  law  enforce- 
ment, education,  and  public  welfare. 
Church  men  and  women,  regardless  of 
denomination,  have  added  their  praise, 
and  the  response  from  the  general  pub- 
lic has  been  equally  gratifying. 

"It  sweetens  the  air,"  wrote  a  Los 
Angeles  business  man,  and  thousands 
of  letters  echo  a  St.  Louis  listener  who 
wrote  ".  .  .  if  we  had  more  such  enter- 
tainment .  .  .  this  old  world  of  ours 
would  be  much  the  better  place  to  live 
in."  A  Wisconsin  lawyer  who  had 
seen  "the  results  of  broken  homes  and 
family  ties"  wrote  glowingly.  From 
every  state,  from  Canada  and  Hawaii 
comes  the  mail — from  housewives, 
farmers,    factory    and    shop    workers, 


store  clerks,  office  employees  and  man- 
agers, soldiers  and  sailors  and  Marines, 
fliers  and  seamen,  banks  and  bank 
clerks,  day  laborers  and  judges,  people 
in  all  stations  of  life. 

And  very  frequently  come  the  touch- 
ing, heart-warming  and  intimate  testi- 
monials of  men  and  women,  grieving, 
perplexed  and  sorely  tried,  who  have 
found  new  hope  and  comfort  in  the 
program.  Such  letters  Father  Pat 
treats  as  confidential,  but  the  tenor  of 
a  few  may  be  given. 

"I  had  given  up  all  hope,"  one  woman 
wrote,  "but  after  listening  ....  I  started 
to  pray  again.  Now  the  greatest  prayer 
of  my  life  has  been  answered,  and  I 
am  happy." 

Another  woman,  her  husband  being 
lost  to  drink,  heard  a  program  and  as 
a  result  fell  back  on  prayer.  "He  doesn't 
drink  any  more,"  she  wrote,  "and  now 
he  also  prays." 

Typical  of  many  was  this:  "Our  mar- 
riage was  foundering,  we  were  talking 
about  divorce.  Then  we  heard  'I  Give 
You  Maggie'  (a  divorce  story)  and  it 
brought  us  to  our  senses.  We're  mak- 
ing a  go   of  our  marriage  now   .   .   ." 

A  mother  whose  son  had  just  been 
killed  in  an  airplane  crash  in  the  Pa- 
cific: "I  heard  your  'Stolen  Symphony' 
with  Robert  Ryan — such  a  comfort  .  .  ." 

A  YOUNG  wife  who  had  just  lost  her 
second,  much- wanted  baby:  "I  was 
...  so  full  of  sorrow  and  rebellion  .  .  . 
about  to  despair  when  I  listened  to 
your  Triumphant  Hour  (special  Easter 
program)  .  .  .  God's  grace  seemed  to 
penetrate  my  heart  and  give  me 
peace  .  .  ." 

The  Family  Theater,  with  offices  in 
Hollywood,  has  Mark  Kearney  as  ex- 
ecutive producer  and  David  Young  as 
director.  The  Family  Rosary  Crusade 
(for  Catholic  homes)  has  headquarters 
in  Albany,  N.  Y.  Between  the  two 
projects  Father  Pat  travels  assiduously, 
by  train  and  plane,  raising  funds  to 
defray  production  costs  of  some  $1,700 
a  week,  mostly  for  music.  Stars  per- 
forming receive  the  Guild  minimum  of 
$37,  generally  turning  it  back  to  the 
show.  Three  times  a  year — Christmas, 
Easter,  Mother's  Day — a  special  hour- 
long  program  is  given. 

With  Mutual  donating  Family  Thea- 
ter's regular  half  hour,  Father  Pat 
meets  other  expenses  with  contribu- 
tions from  industrial  and  business 
firms  and  individuals  throughout  the 
country.  His  winning  way,  when  he 
solicits  for  the  cause,  is  becoming 
famous.  The  man  is  practically  ir- 
resistible. "Everybody,"  as  Ethel 
Barrymore  once  remarked,  "adopts 
Father  Pat."  Numerous  contributions, 
in  small  amounts,  come  from  grateful 
listeners.  In  several  cities,  advertis- 
ing firms  have  donated  billboard  space. 

Father  Pat,  unassuming  and  shy  ex- 
cept when  working  on  behalf  of  Family 
Theater,  believes  that  through  the  radio 
work  he  is  "paying  a  debt  to  a  grand 
Person,  so  wonderful,  so  kind,  so  human 
—and  the  Mother  of  God." 

"And,"  he  says,  "we  are  selling  wares 
as  real  as  coffee,  tires,  radios  or  cars 
when  we  sell  the  power  of  prayer.  In 
an  age  when  homes  are  dying,  we  ask 
that  people  of  all  faiths  let  God  have 
the  chance  to  save  homes.  We  ask  that 
people  realize,  through  the  power  of 
prayer,  that  peace  comes  from  the  in- 
side out!" 

And  with  radio  bringing  this  simple 
message  into  millions  of  homes,  the  full 
result — as  a  housewife  in  St.  Paul, 
Minn.,  wrote  fervently — "will  never  be 
known  this  side  of  heaven." 


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87 


(or  really  beautiful 
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Bride  and  Groom 

(Continued  from  page  45) 


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if  any  real  talent — although  I  couldn't 
really  reconcile  that  thought  with 
Rheba's  picture." 

.  But  Pat  did  keep  from  showing  any 
interest  when  Rheba  finally  called  his 
office  again,  excitedly  saying  that  at 
last  she'd  had  a  recording  made  of  her 
voice.  Probably  he  would  have  curtly 
told  her  to  mail  it  in  and  it  would  be 
considered— except  that  Rheba's  call 
came  while  Pat's  mother  was  in  his 
office.  Listening  to  Pat's  part  of  the 
telephone  conversation,  his  mother  in- 
terrupted him  by  taking  the  phone  and 
saying,  "I  gather  that  you  finally  have 
that  recording  Pat  is  so  interested  in. 
He  and  I  will  be  over  tonight  to  hear 
it  on  your  record-player." 

Vainly  Pat  protested  that  things 
weren't  handled  that  way  in  the  agency 
business.  "Nonsense,"  his  mother 
sniffed.  "That  girl  is  talented — it's  worth 
going  to  her  house  to  hear  her!" 

"And  it  was  worth  it!"  Pat  is  now 
the  first  one  to  admit.  Rheba  turned 
out  to  be  anything  but  a  "spoiled  dar- 
ling with  little  or  no  talent."  Instead, 
she  had  charm  and  personality  to  match 
her  looks,  and  a  voice  lovely  enough  to 
excite  even  Hollywood's  most  blase 
talent-agent. 

"I  GUESS  both  of  us  were  surprised 
1  that  first  night,"  Rheba  told  us.  "You 
know  what  Pat  expected  to  see — well, 
I'd  had  a  mental  picture  of  a  little  fat 
cigar-smoking  agent,  like  those  bur- 
lesqued versions  you  see  in  movies. 
Instead,  Pat  was  friendly  and  likeable; 
not  to  mention  his  being  as  handsome 
as  he  is!" 

There  were  other  meetings  during  the 
next  few  days,  but  all  were  strictly  bus- 
iness. Even  their  first  date  bore  the 
same  platonic  tag.  It  happened  after  Pat 
had  escorted  Rheba  to  an  audition  for 
a  radio  program — at  his  suggestion, 
they  had  dinner  together  and  then 
drove  slowly  along  the  beach.  "It  was 
such  a  perfect  night,"  Rheba  sighed, 
"but  it  might  as  well  have  been  raining. 
We  carefully  steered  clear  of  all  sub- 
jects except  my  singing  experience,  the 
probable  outlook  for  the  future,  the 
best  arrangement  for  helping  my  ca- 
reer. And  all  that  time  the  beautiful 
moon-lit  beach,  the  stars  in  the  sky,  and 
the  warm  night  air  were  being  com- 
pletely ignored!" 

It  was  like  that  for  the  next  three 
months,  with  neither  of  them  ever 
dropping  for  even  a  moment  the  pre- 
tense that  it  was  business  and  business 
alone,  that  was  responsible  for  their 
spending  every  possible  hour  together. 
"I  wasn't  fooling  myself,"  Pat  explained. 
"I  knew  I  was  falling  head  over  heels 
in  love  with  "her.  But  I  didn't  dare  say 
anything.  There  are  some  distorted 
ideas  about  Hollywood  agents,  and  I 
didn't  want  her  to  think  I  was  trying 
to  take  any  advantage  of  a  business 
set-up." 

Rheba,  meanwhile,  was  facing  a 
similar  problem.  "In  my  heart,  I  knew 
it  wasn't  'strictly  business'  that  kept 
me  so  excited  at  each  thought  of  seeing 
Pat  again — but  I'd  heard  about  girls 
who  tried  to  substitute  coy  flirting  for 
talent  in  trying  to  get  a  break.  I 
couldn't  have  stood  it  if  Pat  had  thought 
I  was  doing  that." 

Not  that  even  the  strictly-business 
dates  weren't  a  lot  of  fun.  For  instance, 
there  was  the  afternoon  when  Pat  and 
Rheba  had  been  at  the  NBC  Studios, 


where  she  was  rehearsing  for  a  singing 
role  he  had  obtained  for  her.  Leaving 
via  the  artists'  entrance,  they  were  met 
at  the  sidewalk  by  a  group  of  autograph 
seekers.  "I  guess  it  was  Rheba's  dark 
glasses  that  made  them  think  she  was  a 
celebrity,"  Pat  laughed.  "Anyway,  they 
all  started  shoving  autograph-books  and 
pencils  at  her.  But  the  surprising  thing 
was  that  Rheba  started  signing  them!  I 
waited  for  one  of  them  to  look  at  the 
autograph  and  ask  'Who's  Rheba  Smith,' 
but  there  wasn't  a  peep  from  any  of 
them — just  a  lot  of  excited  thanks  as  the 
fans  trooped  off,  proudly  showing  each 
other  the  latest  addition  to  their  auto- 
graph collection." 

When  they  were  safely  out  of  earshot, 
Rheba  solved  the  mystery.  "I  signed  my 
own  name,  but  I  carefully  wrote  it  so 
illegibly  that  none  of  them  knows 
whether  I'm  Lana  Turner  or  Greer 
Garson!" 

It  took  a  lot  more  dates — and  an  ac- 
cident— before  they  found  out  that 
neither  of  them  was  alone  in  being  com- 
pletely in  love  with  the  other.  The 
date  started  out  to  be  a  threesome, 
for  Pat  had  promised  to  meet  with  a 
friend,  George  Byron  Easton,  who  had 
completed  a  wonderful  song  melody. 
Pat,  who  is  also  a  talented  writer,  had 
agreed  to  try  to  compose  words  for  the 
melody.  But  the  meeting  proved  fruit- 
less, and  Pat  started  to  drive  Rheba 
home. 

As  they  cruised  slowly  along,  Pat's 
mind  was  still  working  on  the  problem 
of  words  for  the  song.  Finally  a  phrase, 
suggested  by  one  of  Elizabeth  Barrett 
Browning's  "Sonnets  From  The  Por- 
tuguese" came  to  his  mind.  Perhaps 
that  could  be  the  theme  around  which 
the  lyrics  could  be  built. 

He  tried  the  phrase  out  loud,  forget- 
ting for  a  moment  that  Rheba  was  sit- 
ting silently  beside  him.  Rheba,  not 
knowing  that  he  was  still  working  on 
the  problem  of  the  song,  suddenly  heard 
Pat  saying  softly,  "How  do  I  love  you?" 

"Love  me,"  she  echoed.  "Oh,  Pat, 
you've  never  told  me  before.  I  was 
afraid  you  never  would  tell  me — and 
I've  been  in  love  with  you  ever  so  long." 

"DHEBA!  But  I  was  just  saying  the 
ft  words  .  .  ."  Pat  broke  off  and  pulled 
the  car  to  a  stop.  He  turned  to  Rheba 
then,  his  eyes  mirroring  the  same  hap- 
piness that  was  so  evident  in  her  up- 
turned face.  What  was  he  saying — those 
weren't  just  words  of  a  song,  they  were 
words  for  Rheba  .  .  .  words  he  had 
wanted  to  say  for  so  many  weeks  now. 
But  now  it  didn't  take  words.  It  took 
only  two  people,  deeply  in  love,  holding 
each  other  closely  as  though  to  make 
up  for  all  the  time  when  they  hadn't 
known  that  both  of  them  were  in  love. 

Yes,  it  took .  that  happy  misunder- 
standing to  bring  Pat  and  Rheba  to- 
gether— a  misunderstanding  that  turned 
words  of  a  song  into  words  of  love. 
(Incidentally,  the  song,  "How  Do  I 
Love  You,"  with  Pat's  lyrics,  has  been 
published.  It's  sure  of  being  always  the 
top  tune  in  the  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pat  Ray- 
mond household!) 

And  it  took  Pat's  letter  to  us  about  a 
honeymoon  in  the  state  of  Washington 
to  start  us  planning  one  of  the  top 
honeymoons  ever  enjoyed  by  a  Bride 
and  Groom  couple.  We  enlisted  the  aid 
of  Al  Williams,  who  had  formerly  been 
on  the  program's  staff,  and  who  is  now 
vice  president  of  the  investment  com- 


WILL 
SHIRLEY  TEMPLE'S 

BABY 
BECOME  AN  ACTRESS? 


Little  Susan  Agar  already  has  her 
mother's  dimpled  grin  .  .  .  and 
a  personality  that  captivates.  She's 
blue-eyed  and  bewitching.  What's 
more — both  Susan's  mother  and 
dad  are  actors.  Doesn't  it  seem 
almost  inevitable,  then,  that  the 
next  few  years  will  bring  us  a 
second  "Miss  Twinkletoes"?  But 
see  what  Shirley  has  to  say  about 
her  daughter's  future — -in  the  new 
August  PHOTOPLAY.  Louella 
Parsons  brings  you  an  intimate 
glimpse  into  the  Agar  household 
— revealing  Shirley  Temple  in  a 
new    and   surprising   role. 

And  August  PHOTOPLAY  tells  you  all 
about  that  "sweet  guy"  Gable  .  .  .  Bing 
Crosby,  the  social  lion  .  .  .  that  talented 
tyke  June  Haver  .  .  .  Errol  Flynn  as  a 
homebody  .  . .  Gary  Grant's  "great  love"  for 
Myrna  Loy  .  .  .  Ava  Gardner  of  the  Venus 
form  .  .  .  and  many  other  film  favorites. 

rLUu    full-color  portraits  of 

Irene   Dunne 

Clark  Gable 

June  Haver 

Bing  Crosby 

Dana  Andrews 


august  PHOTOPLAY 
is  on  sale     pHOTOPLi 

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TODAY 


LISTEN  Every  Saturday  Morning  to  "Holly- 
wood Headlines,"  starring  Photoplay's  editor 
Adele  Whitely  Fletcher.  Over  ABC  stations. 


pany  that,  among  other  things,  operates 
the  beautiful  Desert  Hotel  in  Spokane, 
Washington. 

The  hotel  was  chosen  for  their  honey- 
moon spot,  and  they  were  flown  to 
Spokane  immediately  after  the  broad- 
cast. From  then  on,  as  Pat  and  Rheba 
described  it,  "The  whole  City  of  Spo- 
kane went  to  work  on  showing  us  a 
wonderful  and  exciting  time." 

They  were  even  presented  the  tra- 
ditional key  to  the  city.  For  once,  the 
huge  aluminum  key  really  opened 
every  door.  So  many  doors,  in  fact,  that 
separate  days  had  to  be  allotted  to  all 
the  groups  and  organizations  that  were 
bent  on  showing  the  honeymooners  the 
time  of  their  lives.  The  Chamber  of 
Commerce,  The  Mount  Spokane  Ski 
Club,  the  famous  Athletic  Round  Table, 
the  University  Clufc> — these  were  only 
a  few  of  their  hosts  during  the  Cin- 
derella-like week  of  their  stay  in  Spo- 
kane. The  bridal  suite  at  the  hotel  .  .  . 
skiing  on  picturesque  mountain  slopes 
.  .  conducted  tours  to  Grand  Coulee 
Dam  .  .  .  dancing  parties  .  .  .  dinners. 

Now  back  in  Hollywood,  Rheba  is 
continuing  her  career — and  gaining  rec- 
ognition that  justifies  all  the  dreams  she 
had  about  singing.  Pat,  of  course,  is 
still  her  manager,  in  addition  to  carry- 
ing on  his  regular  agency  work. 

But,  even  now,  their  part  in  the  Bride 
and  Groom  picture  isn't  ended.  Remem- 
ber what  I  said  about  our  being  just 
plain  lucky  in  the  kind  of  people  who 
appear  on  our  broadcasts?  Well,  proof 
of  that  is  the  Bride  and  Groom  club 
that  Pat  and  Rheba  have  just  organized. 
Composed  of  couples  who  have  been 
married  in  connection  with  the  pro- 
gram, the  club  has  a  real  and  human 
purpose.  "It's  going  to  be  a  sort  of  co- 
operative thing  in  which  all  of  us  will 
help  each  other.  For  instance,  we'll 
trade  baby-sitting  dates  with  each 
other.  We'll  act  as  a  clearing-house  of 
information  about  such  things  as  doc- 
tors, and  markets,  and  the  best  places 
to  find  the  things  that  newlyweds  need 
when  setting  up  housekeeping.  And 
we'll  help  each  other  on  housing  prob- 
lems— when  any  of  us  hears  of  a  house 
or  apartment^  the  club's  secretary  will 
be  notified." 

"Yes,"  Rheba  added  to  Pat's  explana- 
tion. "Being  Bride  and  Groom  couples, 
all  of  us  will  have  started  marriage 
with  happiness — we're  going  to  work  to 
keep  that  same  happiness  alive  for  all 
the  years  to  come." 

Perhaps  in  those  words,  better  than 
in  any  words  I  could  possibly  write, 
Rheba  has  shown  why  we  think  we've 
been  so  lucky  in  our  Bride  and  Groom 
couples  .  .  .  and  why  those  young 
people  are  establishing  such  a  record 
in  proving  that  a  modern  boy  and  girl 
can  be  married  and  still  "live  happily 
forever  after." 


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90 


They  All  Want  to  Lead  the  Band 


(Continued  from  page  41) 


No  thinking  it  over,  no  fooling 
around,  no  "I'll  let  you  know  later." 
Sammy  always  has  been  quickly  and 
quietly  decisive.  I  was  still  bursting 
with  promotional  ideas  and  hoping  that 
my  sales  talk  would  lead  to  another 
conference  when  he  looked  at  Peppe 
and  raised  his  eyebrows.  Both  men 
nodded  at  the  same  time. 

"This  is  the  guy  for  me,"  Sammy  said 
to  his  manager,  and  he  shook  hands  on 
a  deal. 

I  have  been  with  him  ever  since. 

The  fourth  surprise  followed  imme- 
diately. 

In  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  had  the 
confidence  and  the  initiative  to  organize 
his  own  band  in  college,  promote  dates 
for  it,  open  and  run  the  Varsity  Inn, 
and,  after  graduation,  arrange  bookings 
into  increasingly  high-powered  club 
and  hotel  dates,  the  man  was  shy! 

There  was  no  reason  for  it.  He  had  a 
gracious  personality  and  an  engaging 
appearance.  He  had  been  an  outstand- 
ing success  at  everything  he  touched. 
People  liked  him  the  minute  they  saw 
him.  But  he  was  definitely  not  happy 
when  called  on  to  do  anything  more 
conspicuous  than  wave  his  baton  or 
play  his  clarinet. 

He  knew  that  band  leaders  do  not 
stay  successful  on  music  alone  and  that 
mannerisms  and  personality  are  an  ex- 
tremely important  item  in  outstanding 
popularity.  He  knew  he  had  to  do  some- 
thing about  the  showmanship  angle  of 
his  career,  but  he  disliked  the  whole 
idea  of  it. 

It  is  hard  to  believe  it  today,  watch- 
ing his  complete  ease  with  all  kinds  of 
people  in  his  ad-lib  shows  on  Monday 
nights,  but  in  those  days  he  really  hated 
making  a  radio  appearance  unless  he 
had  rehearsed  every  word  he  expected 
to  say.  There  was  little  evidence  of  the 
easy  give-and-take  so  characteristic  of 
his  shows  today. 

It  was  murder  for  him  to  go  through 
with  it,  but  he  instructed  me  to  make 
all  the  dates  I  could  for  unrehearsed 
personal  appearances  so  that  he  could 
break  down  his  natural  reticence  by 
constant  practice.  I  used  to  be  secretly 
touched  and  amused  when  I  saw  him 
brace  himself  for  one  of  them.  His 
jaw  would  set,  and  he  would  have  all  of 
the  look  of  a  player  going  in  there  to 
make  a  touchdown  if  it  killed  him  and 
the  entire  opposing  team,  too. 

Part  of  his  shyness  came  from  a 
curious  reason.  It  will  be  a  surprise  to 
those  who  are  astounded  today  by  his 
phenomenal  memory  for  names.    He  is 


now  famous  for  remembering,  instantly, 
names  of  chance  acquaintances  he  has 
not  seen  in  years.  But  in  those  days 
names  slipped  out  of  his  mind  five  min- 
utes after  he  had  heard  them.  No  one 
knew  better  than  Sammy  how  em- 
barrassing it  would  be  if,  right  in  the 
middle  of  an  interview,  he  could  not 
remember  the  name  of  a  columnist  who 
had  been  nice  enough  to  come  over  and 
get  material  for  a  story  on  him. 

Chance  came  to  our  rescue  in  this 
matter. 

We  read  an  article  about  a  system  of 
memory  control  and  Sammy  decided  to 
try  it.  The  system  was  based  on  the 
association  of  ideas.  The  trick  was  to 
find  a  familiar  word  and  associate  it 
with  the  new  name.  You  were  not  sup- 
posed to  concentrate  on  the  name.  All 
you  were  supposed  to  remember  was 
the  key  word,  and  the  name  would 
automatically  pop  into  your  mind.  At 
least  that  is  what  the  article  said.  We 
did  not  have  too  much  faith  in  it.  On 
the  surface,  it  looked  as  if  we  would 
just  have  two  things  to  remember  in- 
stead of  one.  But  we  tried  it  out  on  Ben 
Gross  of  the  Daily  News. 

He  was  not  as  famous  a  columnist 
then  as  he  is  now,  so  his  name  was  new 
to  Sammy.  We  chose  144  as  the  key  to 
remind  Sammy  that  he  was  talking  to 
Mr.  Gross,  and  it  worked!  He  never 
did  say,  "Well,  it  was  this  way,  Mr. 
144,"  either.  The  name  always  came 
out  Gross.    It  was  like  a  charm. 

There  are  144  articles  in  a  gross,  as 
you  no  doubt  know,  so  that  was  an  ob- 
vious association  of  ideas.  Nick  Kenny's 
key  word  was  "Santa  Claus."  Santa 
Claus — St.    Nick — Nick   Kenny. 

Some  of  his  key  words  were  a  little 
macabre  in  overtone.  There  was  a  nice 
theater  man  named  Ralph  Danbury.  His 
key  word  was  "cemetery."  Everytime 
Sammy  saw  him  he  thought: 

"Cemetery — bury  Dan — "  and  would 
be  able  to  say  instantly,  "Hello,  Mr. 
Danbury.  Glad  to  see  you  looking  so 
well."  Danbury  never  knew  that  a  fleet- 
ing mental  image  of  a  little  graveyard 
always  preceded  Sammy's  affable  greet- 
ing, and  I  am  glad  to  say  that  he  is  ex- 
tremely well  and  very  far  from  a  ceme- 
tery today. 

All  of  the  columnists  were  interested 
in  Sammy  before  he  came  into  New 
York  for  two  reasons.  First,  they  had 
heard  him  on  the  radio  and  knew  that 
he  had  something  original  to  offer. 
Second,  he  was  booked  to  follow  Benny 
Goodman  into  the  Paramount  Theater. 

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band  could  have  that  year.  If  you  think 
back  ten  years,  you  will  remember  that 
sweet  bands  were  having  tough  sled- 
ding. Swing  was  king  and  Goodman 
was  undisputed  leader  in  that  field.  He 
had  broken  all  house  records  at  the 
Paramount.  For  weeks,  people  had 
been  lining  up  hours  before  the  theater 
opened  to  make  sure  of  getting  in  to 
hear  that  clarinet.  The  youngsters  had 
been  jitter-bugging  in  the  aisles, 
screaming  and  fainting  when  Benny  hit 
those  top  notes.  It  was  fashionable  to 
be  a  hep  cat. 

So  it  was  a  big  question  in  every- 
body's mind  what  the  reaction  to 
Sammy's  dreamy  swing  and  sway  music 
would  be.  If  he  went  over,  the  Para- 
mount date  would  make  him.  If  he 
didn't  it  would  break  him  in  the  big 
town — for  a  while,  at  least. 

All  of  us  were  nervous,  but  from  the 
moment  I  heard  the  first  note  swell  out 
from  his  clarinet  and  I  looked  over  the 
audience,  rapt  and  absolutely  still,  I 
knew  that  Sammy  had  New  York  in  his 
pocket. 

He  broke  records  at  the  Paramount 
and  his  first  engagement  at  the  Commo- 
dore Hotel  followed.  From  that  time  on 
he  was  set.  Sales  on  his  recordings 
pyramided.  He  was  in  constant  demand 
for  hotel  and  club  dates.  Newspapers 
and  magazines  were  driving  me  crazy 
asking  for  new  stories  and  new  angles 
for  articles,  and  I  was  hard-pressed  to 
keep  them  supplied  because  nothing 
was  happening  except  that  thousands  of 
people  were  buying  tickets,  and  that  is 
hardly  tempting  page-one  news  to  an 
editor.  To  make  my  job  even  harder, 
Sammy  issued  stringent  orders  that 
under  no  circumstances  was  his  per- 
sonal life  to  be  used  for  publicity. 

IN  1939  he  had  married  one  of  the 
most  charming  women  I  have  ever 
known — sweet,  petite,  with  dark  hair 
and  blue-gray  eyes.  She  traveled  with 
him  except  when  he  was  doing  one 
night  stands.  They  were  very  happy 
and  still  are.  They  have  an  apartment 
on  Park  Avenue  in  New  York  and  a 
house  in  Cleveland — home  town  for 
both  of  them.  She  was  a  widow  with  a 
little  boy.  Stories  about  their  romance, 
wedding  and  home  life  would  have 
rated  space  all  over  the  country,  but 
Sammy  would  have  none  of  it. 

I  pointed  out  that  the  day  had  long 
passed  when  stars  kept  their  home  lives 
secret,  but  Sammy  was  firm. 

"My  marriage  is  a  personal  matter 
and  I  don't  want  it  played  up  in  the 
papers,"  he  said. 

So  I  was  stopped  on  the  only  good 
news  angle  available  at  that  moment, 
and  still  am,  as  a  matter  of  fact.  The 
nearest  she  has  ever  come  to  his  pro- 
fessional life  is  the  dedication  "To 
Ruth"  of  his  fabulously  popular  Sun- 
day Serenade  Book  of  Poetry. 

Outside  of  that,  we  have  never  had  a 
disagreement.  He  has  made  me  feel 
like  a  member  of  the  family,  and  every- 
time  I  add  an  important  client  like  Kate 
Smith,  Perry  Como,  Truth  or  Conse- 
quences, Superman,  Dumont  Television, 
for  instance,  Sammy  seems  to  feel  as 
happy  as  I  do  because  he  is  proud  that 
my  agency  has  kept  pace  with  his  own 
success. 

He  turned  into  my  press  agent  when 
I  was  engaged  to  handle  Eleanor  Roose- 
velt's radio  program.  He  was  really 
proud  of  that  and  he  went  all  over  town 
saying: 

"Guess  who  my  press  agent  works 
for?     Mrs.  Roosevelt!" 

In  spite  of  his  popularity,  it  was 
tough  getting  the  proper  amount  of 
publicity  breaks  for  Sammy  in  the  first 


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two  years  until,  in  1940,  he  handed  me 
one  of  the  happiest  surprises  I  have 
ever  had.  I  was  just  about  in  despair 
about  new  angles  for  him  when  one  of 
the  biggest  things  that  ever  happened 
in  show  business  turned  up.  It  started 
on  a  night  just  like  any  other  night 
when  Sammy  was  playing  one  of  his 
many  return  engagements  at  the  Com- 
modore Hotel. 

One  of  the  dancers,  fascinated  by 
Sammy's  technique,  had  been  hovering 
in  front  of  the  bandstand  all  evening 
going  around  and  around  in  a  little 
circle,  never  taking  his  eyes  off  the 
baton.  Finally  he  caught  Sammy's  eye. 
Sammy  grinned. 

"You  seem  to  like  it,"  he  said. 

"I'd  give  anything  in  the  world  if  I 
could  lead  that  band  just  once,"  the  boy 
answered. 

Sammy  knew  exactly  how  he  felt. 
He  had  felt  that  way  himself  about 
good  bands  before  he  got  his  own. 
Sammy  loves  to  do  things  for  people. 
He  could  not  resist  giving  the  boy  a 
thrill.  On  impulse  he  said,  "I'll  make 
a  deal  with  you.  You  can  lead  the  band 
if  you'll  let  me  have  a  dance  with  your 
girl." 

The  boy  and  girl  were  both  tickled  to 
death.  While  Sammy  swung  off  around 
the  floor  with  her,  the  boy  took  the 
baton  and  gave  a  firm  downbeat. 

The  band  entered  into  the  spirit  of 
the  thing  and  gave  him  all  they  had. 
He  was  in  heaven.  He  made  the  band 
go  fast.  He  made  it  go  slow.  He  stopped 
it  for  one  whole  beat.  He  started  it 
again.    His  face  was  something  to  see. 

The  other  dancers  crowded  around 
the  bandstand,  almost  as  pleased  as  he 
was.  Everybody  in  the  world  seems  to 
have  a  secret  longing  to  lead  a  band.  It 
gave  everyone  a  feeling  of  excitement 
to  see  the  wish  come  true  for  someone 
right  before  their  eyes. 

Sammy  is  never  slow  when  a  good 
idea  comes  along. 

"Maybe  this  is  the  gimmick  we  have 
been  looking  for,"  he  said. 

And  that  is  the  way  "So  You  Want  to 
Lead  a  Band"  started.  Since  then,  over 
50,000  people  have  taken  over  Sammy's 
baton  and  the  stunt  has  grown  to  be  one 
of  the  greatest  entertainment  features 
ever  invented  as  well  as  one  of  the 
greatest  gimmicks  a  press  agent  could 
hope  for. 

Let  me  tell  you  what  a  gimmick  is  in 
publicity  and  what  it  means  to  a  press 
agent.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  let  me  tell 
you  what  a  press  agent  is. 

The  profession  of  publicity  seems  to 
be  shrouded  in  mystery  to  most  people. 


I  am  forever  hearing,  "You  have  a  soft 
life!" 

When  I  ask  why  it  seems  soft  the  an- 
swer usually  is,  "Spending  all  your  life 
in  night-clubs  and  shows  and  traveling 
with  famous  people— that  is  really 
soft." 

It  would  be,  indeed,  except  that  noth- 
ing could  be  farther  from  the  fact.  A 
press  agent  spends  most  of  his  time  in 
his  office  at  his  typewriter  and  his  tele- 
phone, hard  at  work  performing  as  defi- 
nite a  business  service  for  a  star  as  does 
a  manager  or  an  agent.  He  works  all 
day  and  frequently  all  night  when  news 
is  breaking  trying  to  keep  his  client's 
name  before  the  public.  He  has  to  have 
legitimate  news  to  accomplish  this.  The 
day  has  long  since  passed  when  you  can 
get  space  with  a  phony  jewel  robbery. 

A  real  news  story  always  rates  space, 
like  the  announcement  that  Sammy 
Kaye  was  to  replace  Perry  Como  and  Jo 
Stafford  on  the  Chesterfield  Supper 
Club  starting  June  7. 

As  soon  as  the  deal  was  made,  I  gave 
the  story  to  all  of  the  newspapers,  trade 
papers,  wire  services,  columnists,  mag- 
.  azines  with  radio  and  record  depart- 
ments, complete  with  such  facts  as  that 
the  show  is  heard  Monday  through  Fri- 
day over  NBC  stations  at  7  p.m.  EDT. 
This  announcement  went  by  telegram 
to  some  publications,  by  mail  to  others, 
which  meant  a  big  job  of  mimeograph- 
ing and  mailing  because  about  400 
editors  must  be  notified  all  on  the  same 
date. 

There  is  no  trouble  about  getting  a 
news  story  like  that  in  print,  but  from 
then  on,  the  press  agent  has  to  think  up 
what  is  called  "angle"  stories.  That  is 
where  the  gimmick  is  so  useful. 

The  basic  idea  of  "So  You  Want  to 
Lead  a  Band"  is  an  ideal  gimmick  be- 
cause it  involves  people,  wish  fulfilment 
and  Sammy  at  the  same  time  in  stories 
of  intense  human  interest.  If  a  mayor 
leads  a  band  it  is  news.  If  a  grand- 
mother or  a  little  boy  or  the  mother  of 
nine  children  leads  the  band  it  is  a  suc- 
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That  was  why  I  was  so  delighted 
when  Sammy  wasted  no  time  in  work- 
ing out  his  new  idea.  He  started  turn- 
ing over  his  baton  once  every  night  to 
somebody  in  the  audience.  It  was  such 
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on  tour  to  know  how  these  contestants 
are  chosen. 

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are  selected.  Sammy  never  meets  the 
contestants  before  they  come  to  the 
stage,  and  no  one  he  knows  is  ever 
selected.  Sammy  has  an  uncanny  knack 
with  people.  One  look,  and  he  knows 
whether  to  kid  a  grandmother  and  be 
respectful  to  a  teenager,  or  the  other 
way  around.  The  short  interview  he 
does  with  each  contestant  on  the  air  de- 
veloped out  of  his  own  interest  in 
people.  He  was  curious  to  know,  him- 
self, why  each  separate  person  wanted 
to  lead  a  band  enough  to  travel  hun- 
dreds of  miles  in  some  cases,  and  he 
figured  listeners  would  be  interested, 
too. 

DE  VARIES  his  questions  according  to 
"  the  personality  of  the  contestant. 
Sometimes  he  gets  surprising  answers. 
Recently  when  he  asked  one  man. 
"Why  do  you  want  to  lead  a  band?"  the 
answer  came  back,  "So  I  can  give  my 
brother-in-law  a  job." 

"Is  he  a  musician?"  asked  Sammy. 

"No,  but  he  can't  do  anything  else 
either,  and  I'd  like  to  get  him  out  of  the 
house." 

Another  contestant  brought  down  the 
roof  when  Sammy  said,  "What's  your 
name?" 

"Johnny  So-and-So,"  said  the  boy. 
"But  I  wish  you'd  call  me  Johnny 
Banana." 

"Why?"  said  Sammy. 

"Because  when  I  get  my  own  band  I 
want  to  call  it  Johnny  Banana  and  his 
Music  with  A-ppeal." 

The  house  came  down,  again,  at  the 
sight  of  Sammy's  face  when  he  asked 
a  sedate  woman  of  not  exactly  girlish 
figure  what  her  occupation  was  and  she 
said  blandly,  "I'm  a  stripper."  (It  de- 
veloped that  she  stripped  tobacco 
leaves,  not  her   own  garments.) 

The  winner  is  always  picked  in  the 
same  way — by  audience  applause.  It  is 
interesting  to  note  that,  while  audi- 
ences will  roar  over  the  wisecracks  of  a 
smart  alec,  they  never  give  him  the 
final  vote.  For  instance,  there  was  a 
southpaw  ball  player  in  one  town  who 
insisted  on  having  a  left-handed  baton 
and  then  wanted  to  reverse  the  seating 
arrangement  of  the  band.  He  had  a  lot 
of  fun  with  the  audience,  but  they 
picked  a  boy  who  was  working  after 
school  to  buy  a  trumpet. 

People  who  are  really  good  leaders 
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and  people  who  have  a  touch  of  pathos 
in  their  lives  are  the  ones  the  audi- 
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Lana  Turner  drew  a  thunderous 
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gagement  at  The  Palladium  in  Holly- 
wood and  asked  for  a  chance  to  lead  the 
band,  but  she  did  not  win.  Neither  did 
Jack  Carson,  though  he  had  plenty  of 
rhythm  and  was  very  funny.  Red  Skel- 
ton  tried  so  hard  he  broke  the  baton. 
The  audience  loved  it,  but  they  voted 
him  down. 

Mayors,  governors,  Army  and  Navy 
officers,  doctors,  lawyers,  celebrities  in 
every  walk  of  life  turn  up  every  week, 
just  as  eager  to  lead  the  band  as  any- 
one else,  but  the  audience  always  picks 
some  unknown  for  final  choice. 

Starting  in  1946,  Sammy  began 
regional  contests  with  the  four  winners 
competing  for  a  grand  prize.  The  play- 
off was  held  that  year  in  Hollywood.  In 
addition  to  a  week's  holiday  in  the  film 
capital,  the  grand  prize  included  $1,000 
cash  and  merchandise  worth  many 
times  that  amount. 

In  1947,  the  play-off  was  held  in  Car- 
negie Hall,  the  sacrosanct  home  of  the 
New  York  Philharmonic  and  usually 
engaged  by  only  the  most  serious  of 
concert  stars.  Runners-up,  both  years, 
were  grandmothers,  one  67  and  the 
other  over  70,  but  the  national  play-offs 
were  won  by  a  seventeen-year-old  boy 
each  year:  Ted  Bemis  of  Springfield, 
Mass,  in  1946  and  Rodney  Andrews  of 
Dayton,  Ohio,  in  1947.  Both  plan  to 
spend  their  awards  on  musical  educa- 
tion, and  Sammy  expects  to  hear  from 
both  of  them  as  successes  within  a  few 
years. 

"So  You  Want  to  Lead  a  Band"  was 
keeping  me  and  two  assistants  busy  on 
Sammy's  account  when  he  handed  me 
another  surprise. 

The  poetry  reading,  which  makes  his 
Sunday  Serenade  at  3:30  P.M.  over 
ABC  so  popular,  started  in  the  same 
off-hand  fashion. 

Sammy  does  not  sing.  One  afternoon, 
just  to  vary  things,  he  took  over  a 
vocalist's  spot  anyway.  He  spoke  the 
words  of  a  song  very  softly  into  the 
microphone.  It  made  an  immediate  hit. 
He  tried  it  again  on  another  song.  More 
letters.  He  tried  it  again.  All  songs  do 
not  lend  themselves  ideally  to  this 
treatment,  so  he  gave  them  one  of  his 
favorite  poems. 

This  ex-quarterback  loves  poetry  and 
thinks  that  it  is  easier  to  talk  about  cer- 
tain emotions  like  love,  loyalty,  friend- 
ship, loneliness,  in  verse  rather  than  in 
ordinary  speech.  He  chooses  poems 
from  many  sources,  but  they  always 
have  universal  appeal  because  they  al- 
ways are  about  emotions  that  every- 
one shares.  On  the  subject  of  friends, 
he  read  this: 

"Make  new  friends   but   keep  the 
old; 


Those  are  silver,  these  are  gold. 
New-made    friendships,    like    new 

wine 
Age  will  mellow  and  refine. 
Friendships    that    have    stood    the 

test — 
Time  and  change — are  surely  best; 
Brows    may    wrinkle,    hair    grow 

grey, 
Friendship  never  knows  decay  .  .  ." 

And  on  love: 

"I  love  you 

Not  only  for  what  you  are 

But  for  what  I  am 

When  I'm  with  you  .  .  ."* 

So  many  thousands  of  requests  for 
copies  of  the  poems  he  read  on  the  air 
flooded  in  that,  in  1942,  Sammy  Kaye's 
Sunday  Serenade  Book  of  Poetry  was 
published.  It  went  into  ten  editions 
within  the  year!  To  date,  it  has  sold 
more  than  150,000  copies  and  is  still 
going  strong. 

This  led  to  Sammy's  National  Poetry 
Contest.  It  started  in  1946  and  is  now 
an  annual  event.  There  were  25,000 
entries  last  year!  We  had  to  put  on  a 
staff  of  girls  just  to  open  the  letters,  and 
Sammy  was  busy  for  weeks,  reading 
and  selecting  the  winning  poem, 
"Heart's  Desire,"  by  Mrs.  B.  Y.  Williams 
of  Cincinnati. 

This  program  is  very  close  to 
Sammy's  heart,  as  is  another  of  his  en- 
terprises. He  is  the  President  of  the 
Hospitalized  Veterans  Foundation,  an 
organization  that  supplies  bedside 
radios,  television  sets  and  phonographs 
to  GIs  in  hospitals  throughout  the 
country.  Sammy  gives  innumerable 
benefits  for  this  cause  as  he  goes  around 
the  country  and  his  slogan  contest,  re- 
cently completed,  resulted  in  a  heavy 
contribution  of  funds.  He  feels  that  too 
many  of  us  think  that  the  war  is  over 
and  forget  the  boys  who  are  still  paying 
the  price  of  victory,  so  you  will  con- 
tinue to  hear  of  this  special  and  impor- 
tant cause  on  his  programs. 

I  have  been  a  part  of  Sammy's  career 
for  ten  years.  There  has  been  something 
new  every  minute,  so  I  have  reason  to 
suppose  that  he  is  working  up  to  an- 
other surprise  for  me  any  time  now, 
and  I  regard  the  prospect  with  mixed 
emotions,  because  it  probably  will  in- 
terfere with  a  secret  project  of  my  own. 

I  want  to  lead  a  band! 

*  All  poems  from  Sammy  Kaye's  Sun- 
day Serenade  Book  of  Poetry.  Per- 
mission to  reprint  by  courtesy  of  Ser- 
enade Publications,  Inc. 


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Coast  to  Coast 

(Continued  from  page  17) 

like  show  business.  Take  the  little 
thing  Chet  Lauck  and  Norris  Goff  did 
when  their  music  backgrounder,  organ- 
ist Emerson  died  suddenly.  Lum  ?n 
Abner  not  only  gave  the  musical  job  to 
Elsie  Mae  Emerson,  the  man's  widow, 
but  actively  helped  and  encouraged  her 
through  her  first  rather  nervous  per- 
formance on  the  air,  spotting  cues  for 
her  and  silently  applauding  as  she 
played  each  bridge. 

*  *         * 

Ken  Niles  is  celebrating  his  twentieth 
year  on  the  air.  It  was  in  1928  that  a 
local  station  in  Seattle,  Washington, 
hired  Ken  as  a  singer-announcer.  He'd 
made  his  initial  "debut"  in  radio  in 
1927,  as  a  member  of  a  U.  of  Washington 
quartet,  but  that  was  a  single  and  un- 
paid appearance  and  he  doesn't  con- 
sider it  a  part  of  his  professional  career. 
Niles  worked  for  several  Seattle  sta- 
tions and  for  KVI  in  Tacoma  before 
moving  to  Hollywood  in  1931.  Today 
he  announces  four  major  coast-to-coast 
shows  and  stars  as  emcee  on  his  own 
CBS  Pacific  network  audience  partici- 
pation program,  Padded  Cell.  He's  also 
slated  for  television  come  cold  weather. 

*  *         * 

Lionel  Hampton  is  one  of  the  jazz 
greats  starred  in  the  new  film,  "A  Song 
Is  Born,"  along  with  luminaries  Benny 
Goodman,  Charlie  Barnett,  Tommy 
Dorsey  and  Louis  Armstrong.  Hampton 

is  also  a  Saturday  regular  on  Mutual. 

*  *         # 

Evelyn  Knight  is  reading  the  scripts 
for  two  Broadway  musicals  in  which 
she's  been  offered  the  leads.  Both  are 
up  for  Fall  production  and  Evelyn  is 
trying  to  find  a  way  to  accept  one  of 
them,   which   means   working   out  her 

radio  schedules  the  right  way. 

*  *         * 

It  seems  as  though  practical  jokers 
just  can't  stay  away  from  a  program 
like  Truth  or  Consequences.  Remem- 
ber the  gal  who  lived  two  weeks  in  the 
lap  of  luxury  by  claiming  she  was  "Miss 
Hush"  and  the  program  would  pay  her 
expenses?  Now  a  new  trick  has  come 
up.  A  number  of  clowns  with  a  warped 
sense  of  humor  have  taken  to  phoning 
their  friends  and  saying,  "This  is  Ralph 
Edwards — you  have  just  won  $25,000!" 
The  recipients  of  these  calls  telephone 
to  Hollywood  just  to  make  sure,  and 
the  secretaries  at  NBC  Hollywood  are 
getting  a  little  annoyed  with  their 
unpleasant  job  of  telling  them  the  dis- 
appointing truth. 

Thanksgiving  and  Christmas  are  still 
months  off,  but  NBC  announces  that  it 
has  snatched  those  big,  two-hour,  all- 
star  holiday  shows  from  CBS,  which 
has  been  broadcasting  them  for  a  watch 
sponsor  all  these  years.  Well,  they  say 
that  competition  is  the  life  blood  of  free 
enterprise.    Even  if  a  lot  of  it  is  spilled? 

*  *         * 

On  radio  you  have  to  be  extra  careful, 
especially  about  gags.  Seems  Fibber 
McGee  absent-mindedly  made  a  wise- 
crack about  "Klondike  Kate."  Trouble 
is  that  there  is  a  real  Klondike  Kate  and 
she  objected  to  Fibber's  gag.     So  now 

there's  a  lawsuit. 

*  *         * 

Television  is  bringing  out  the  inge- 
nuity in  advertisers.  There  was  a  thing 
about  getting  sponsors  for  baseball 
telecasts  because,  unlike  football, 
where  there  is  time  for  commercials  be- 
tween periods,  there  weren't  any  time 
gaps  in  baseball  games.  The  problem 
has  been  solved  beautifully  by  one 
sponsor,    who   is   bankrolling   telecasts 


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of  N.  Y.  Giant  games  and  getting  almost 
continual  plugs — through  the  simple 
expedient  of  buying  up  every  inch  of 
display  advertising  space  on  the  Polo 

Grounds  fences. 

*  *         * 

Penny  Singleton  recently  bought 
another  of  Lassie's  offspring.  Now  each 
of  Penny's  two  daughters  has  her  own 
Lassie  descendant  for  a  pet. 

*  *         * 

Gene  Autry  is  no  longer  the  only 
cowboy  star  who  doubles  in  radio  sta- 
tion operations.  Tex  Ritter,  horse  opera 
film  star  and  recorder  of  albums  for 
kids,  has  been  granted  an  FCC  license 
to  operate  a  San  Antonio  radio  station. 

Dick  Chevillat  and  Ray  Singer,  script 
writers  for  the  Phil  Harris-Alice  Faye 
show,  are  spending  the  summer  doing 
the  book  for  a  Broadway  musical.  The 
score  is  by  Julie  Styne  and  Sammy 
Cahn.  They  hope  to  get  the  show  on 
its  way  before  radio  duties  call  them 
back. 

*  *         * 

It  is  rumored  that  the  two  major 
political  parties  will  pour  an  estimated 
eight  million  dollars  into  radio  and 
television    coffers    during    the    coming 

election.    They  both  wanta  win  bad! 

*  *         * 

Another  rumor  .  .  .  whisperings 
around  radio  row  have  it  that  Henry 
Luce,  owner  of  Time-Life-Fortune,  is 
interested  in  buying  station  WOR,  New 
York  outlet  of  the  Mutual  chain,  to  get 
in  on  the  television  scramble.  Life  on 
the  air? 

*  *         * 

Jack  Barry,  Juvenile  Jury  m.c.  has 
been  widening  his  scope  this  summer. 
Not  content  with  radio,  television  and 
the  movies,  Jack's  been  producing  plays 
for   a   stock   company  on  Long  Island 

this  straw  hat  season. 

*  *         * 

George  O'Hanlon,  who  plays  the  title 
role  in  Warner  Brothers'  "Joe  Mc- 
Doakes"  short  subjects,  has  been  set  to 
star  on  a  new  comedy  show  scheduled 
to  open  over  Mutual  in  September. 

*  *         * 

Lots  of  people  have  been  wondering 
whether  Arnold  Stang,  "Gerard"  on  the 
Henry  Morgan  show,  looks  anything 
like  the  way  he  sounds.  The  answer  is 
yes  and  more  listeners  are  likely  to  be 
able  to  check  that  for  themselves  soon, 
because  chances  are  Morgan  will  work 
Stang  in  on  his  video  stanza. 

*  *         * 

Maybe  the  success  of  radio  per- 
formers in  the  film  "Naked  City,"  will 
break  the  ice  for  air  actors  in  Holly- 
wood.   As  a  rule,  movie  producers  stay 


away  from  radio  when  looking  for 
talent  for  the  flickers.  But  when  "Naked 
City"  was  shot  in  New  York,  twenty 
prominent  parts  were  played  by  New 
York  radio  actors  and  actresses,  out- 
standing performances  being  given  by 
such  radio  familiars  as  House  Jameson, 
Howard  Duff,  Anne  Sargent,  Adelaide 
Klein,  Grover  Burgess,  Tom  Pedi,  Enid 
Markey,  Frank  Conroy,  Hester  Sonder- 
gaard  and  Ted  DeCorsia.  Of  all  of 
these,  only  Howard  Duff  is  really  known 
to  the  movie  goers.  But  they  all  proved 
that  talent  isn't  usually  limited  to  one 
medium  and  a  good  actor  on  the  air  is 
a  good  actor  to  see,  too.  Anyway,  it's 
an  idea  for  the  talent  scouts. 

*  *         * 

John  Brown,  who  plays  Father  Foster, 
on  the  Date  With  Judy  show,  is  living 
proof  that  you  should  never  let  any- 
thing get  you  down.  Years  ago,  after 
working  in  several  Broadway  shows, 
Brown  was  given  his  first  radio  audi- 
tion. The  director,  a  forthright  man, 
pointed  at  Brown  and  announced, 
"You'll  never  become  a  radio  actor." 
Brown  has  made  a  liar  of  that  director 
some  7,500  times,  the  number  of  radio 
appearances  he's  made  since  that  first 
audition. 

*  *         * 

Cute  note  .  .  .  Have  you  noticed  that 
the  same  sparkling  water  outfit  that 
used  to  sponsor  Information  Please,  the 
show  to  wrack  the  experts'  brains,  now 
sponsors  It  Pays  To  Be  Ignorant? 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  .  .  .  Paul  White, 
ex-news  chief  of  CBS,  is  writing  a 
novel  which  promises  to  be  "The  Huck- 
sters" of  the  radio  world  .  .  .  MGM  is 
talking  to  Ozzie  and  Harriet  about  co- 
starring  in  a  series  of  pictures  based  on 
their  radio  adventures  .  .  .  Alan  Young 
is  making  a  book  out  of  essays  and 
stories  he  wrote  for  Canadian  publica- 
tions while  he  was  still  in  Toronto  radio 
.  .  .  Howard  Duff  will  soon  be  seen  in  a 
Western  movie,  in  which  he'll  be  a  hero, 
not  a  villain  .  .  .  Looks  like  Max  Baer 
is  set  for  a  radio  series  .  .  .  Phil  Harris- 
Alice  Faye  stanza  has  been  bought  by 
a  new  sponsor,  the  one  which  has 
dropped  Jimmy  Durante  .  .  .  Date  With 
Judy,  which  looked  as  if  it  might  fall  by 
the  retrenchment  wayside  has  been  re- 
newed for  the  same  old  stand  come 
autumn  .  .  .  Ella  Fitzgerald  has  been 
signed  to  play  four  weeks  in  London 
this  September  .  .  .  One  of  the  new 
shows  you're  likely  to  hear  is  an  Alan 
Young-Dorothy  Lamour  combination 
.  .  .  Reports  have  it  that  a  major  film 
studio  is  interested  in  buying  one  of  the 
major  networks. 


LISTEN  TO 

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"lets  talk  hollywood" 


FEATURING 


GEORGE    MURPHY 
EDDIE     BRACKEN 

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Miracle  in  Cuba 

(Continued  from  page  23) 


columnists  and  advertising  people  on 
this  trip  to  Cuba.  The  letter  was  signed 
"Goar  Mestre"— a  name  I'd  never  heard 
before. 

Well,  I  told  my  son  about  it  and  I 
wrote  my  daughter  and  they  were  as 
amazed  as  I.  All  that  week  while  I  was 
making  a  new  dress  to  wear  and  re- 
modeling a  hat  that  had  once  belonged 
to  my  daughter,  I  had  to  keep  telling 
myself  over  and  over  again  that  I  was 
going  to  fly.  That's  as  far  as  I  could  get 
in  my  mind.   After  that,  I  didn't  know. 

The  flight,  I  felt,  would  be  my  big- 
gest thrill  and  it  was,  indeed,  exciting. 
But  other  things  happened  that  were 
just  as  wonderful  as  the  flight. 

I  loved  every  minute  I  spent  in  the 
air — even  when  we  hit  some  head  winds 
over  Florida  and  the  plane  bucked  like 
a  bronco.  What  I  couldn't  understand 
was  how  the  rest  of  the  people  in  the 
plane — the  newspaper  and  magazine 
people  and  the  advertising  men — could 
sleep  or  play  cards.  If  I'm  10,000  feet  off 
the  ground  I  want  to  know  about  it,  to 
be  aware  of  every  second. 

IT  WAS  cold  when  we  left  New  York 
*  and  I  had  worn  my  cape  and  hat.  But 
we  came  down  into  a  warm  tropical 
night  and  I  just  breathed  in  that  soft 
air  and  looked  at  the  palm  trees  and 
said  to  myself,  "I'm  in  Cuba.  Some- 
how a  miracle  has  happened.  I  don't 
know  why  I'm  here.  I  don't  know  who 
Goar  Mestre  is  but  I'm  here."  It  was 
wonderful. 

Of  course  I  met  Goar  Mestre  very 
soon,  along  with  his  beautiful  Argen- 
tinian wife.  He  is  thirty-five  years  old 
and  a  fourth-generation  Cuban.  He  was 
educated  in  America.  Is  a  Yale  gradu- 
ate, in  fact.  For  quite  a  while  he  had 
the  controlling  interest  in  the  Cuban 
network  CMQ.  Then  he  decided  that  it 
would  be  a  wonderful  thing  for  Cuba  if 
he  built  a  place  comparable  to  our 
Radio  City.  He  did  just  that.  It's  called 
Radiocentro  and  it's  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  modern  buildings  you 
ever  saw.   It  cost  three  million  dollars. 

In  the  building  is  a  big  movie  theater, 
all  the  CMQ  studios — there  are  eleven 
of  them — two  restaurants,  a  roof  night 
club,  a  bank,  fourteen  stores  of  various 
kinds,  an  auto  showroom  and  seven 
floors  of  offices. 

I  found  out  that  the  reason  the  man 
who  had  first  talked  to  me  on  the  tele- 
phone had  laughed  when  I  told  him 
what  I  thought  of  disc  jockeys  was 
that  Mr.  Mestre  was  determined  there 
would  be  no  disc  jockeys  on  his  Cuban 
network.  My  comment  on  them  might 
have  been  what  got  me  chosen  as  a 
typical  American  radio  listener. 

No,  there  are  no  disc  jockeys  on  CMQ 
but,  and  I  think  this  is  very  funny,  you 
know  what  the  Cubans  and  the  Mexi- 
cans and  the  South  Americans  (CMQ  is 
heard  all  over  the  Latin  American 
countries)  love?  Daytime  dramas. 
About  sixty  percent  of  the  eighteen- 
hour  day  of  radio  is  devoted  to  these 
dramatic  shows.  They're  in  Spanish, 
of  course,  and  they're  like  our  Joyce 
Jordan  and  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  and 
others  except  with  a  difference.  The 
plots  are  more  torrid  than  ours  and 
there  is  much  more  about  love.  That's 
the  Cuban  temperament. 

If  you've  ever  been  to  a  radio  broad- 
cast in  the  United  States  (I  have  several 
times)  you'll  remember  that  the  spon- 
sor's booth,  which  you  can  see  from  the 
place  where  the  spectators  sit,  is  a  small 


booth  seating  only  ten  or  fifteen  people. 
But  that's  not  how  it  is  in  Cuba.  The 
sponsor's  booth  seats  a  hundred  because 
a  Cuban  sponsor  likes  to  bring  his 
entire  family  and  the  family's  family. 

There  is  a  private  entrance  to  the 
booth  so  all  these  people  won't  have  to 
go  through  the  studio.  And  here's  the 
reason  for  that.  Cubans  are  notorious 
for  being  late  and  Mr.  Mestre  can't  have 
people — even  if  they  have  bought  time 
on  the  air — trailing  through  the  studio 
while  a  program  is  going  on. 

While  I'm  on  the  subject  of  the 
Cubans  having  so  little  sense  of  time  I'd 
like  to  tell  you  about  the  Radio  Clock  or 
Radio  Reloj,  as  it  is  called  down  there. 
This  is  a  broadcast  in  a  separate  studio 
and  it  goes  for  the  eighteen  hours  a  day 
that  the  network  is  on  the  air.  It's  a 
mechanical  device  and  it  sounds  like 
the  ticking  of  a  metronome.  Two  men 
are  in  the  studio  constantly  because 
every  minute  is  divided  into  three 
periods  of  twenty  seconds  each.  And 
each  twenty  seconds  is  then  divided 
into  five  seconds  of  news,  five  seconds 
of  commercials  and  five  seconds  for 
telling  the  time. 

Mr.  Mestre  said,  "In  this  way  we 
hope  the  Cubans  will  be  on  time  for 
their  appointments."  But  I'm  afraid 
that  is  just  a  dream  for  during  the  four 
days  I  was  in  Cuba  nobody  was  on  time 
for  anything  anywhere,  Radio  Reloj 
or  not! 

These  Latin  Americans  may  be  late 
but  they're  certainly  not  lazy.  I  learned 
later  that  we  had  arrived  a  day  before 
we  were  "expected,  due  to  some  trouble 
about  getting  the  plane.  So  that  first 
day  when  we  saw  Radiocentro  it  was 
not  landscaped.  There  were  trucks 
there  with  greenery  and  plants  and 
small  trees  but  no  planting  at  all  had 
been  done.  Goodness  knows  what  hap- 
pened but  the  next  day  when  we  ar- 
rived for  the  official  dedication  cere- 
mony the  grounds  around  the  beautiful 
building  were  green  and  growing.  Those 
men  must  have  worked  all  night.  This 
is  the  kind  of  thing  you  expect  in  the 
United  States  but  not  in  Cuba. 

THE  entire  building  and  the  studios 
are  as  up-to-date  as  any  radio  station 
anywhere.  The  doors  are  three-and-a- 
half  inches  thick  of  solid  mahogany  and 
remember  I'm  a  good  carpenter  and 
such  things  appeal  to  me.  The  offices 
are  like  a  picture,  beautifully  deco- 
rated in  chartreuse,  with  white  leather 
chairs  and  desks  of  native  wood  in 
satin  finish.  The  control  rooms  are  as 
big  as  those  at  the  National  Broadcast- 
ing Company  in  the  United  States. 

Mr.  Mestre's  architects  planned  the 
lobby  and  all  the  studios  so  that  every- 
body can  see  everybody  else.  The 
Cubans  practically  demand  this.  They 
just  won't  come  to  a  place  unless  they 
can  see  and  be  seen. 

Well,  now  let  me  tell  you  about  the- 
programs  I  heard  and  the  kind  of  things 
the  Cubans  like— besides  drama.  There 
were  wonderful  choral  groups.  There 
was  a  grand  Argentinian  singer  named 
Armanda  Ledesma.  She  sang  what,  I 
suppose,  would  be  Cuban  blues  songs. 
Then  there  was  Greta  Menzel,  a  Cuban 
girl,  who  sang,  if  you  can  imagine  it, 
Viennese  songs.  She  was  very  good  in- 
deed. Ernesto  Lecuona  played  the 
piano.  He's  the  composer  of  such  lovely 
numbers  as  "Siboney"  and  "Mala- 
guena."  Cuba  is  full  of  music,  it  seemed 
to  me,  and  full  of  rhythm. 


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The  group  that  thrilled  me  most  were 
the  Afro-Cubans.  I've  always  liked 
our  American  hillbillies  on  the  air; 
these  are  Cuban  hillbillies.  They  beat 
the  drums  they  had  made  themselves, 
played  the  native  instruments  and  sang. 
It  was  so  strange  to  see  them  making 
this  most  primitive  music  in  that  highly 
functional,  utterly  modern  studio.  It 
was  the  old  world  meeting  the  new. 

Mr.  Mestre  had  left  nothing  undone. 
From  Mexico  he  had  invited  many  high 
officials  and  some  Mexican  talent,  in- 
cluding a  comedian  who  had  me  laugh- 
ing till  the  tears  came. 

And  things  were  arranged  so  that  we 
really  saw  Cuba,  including  some  "night 
life." 

One  night  we  were  having  supper  at 
a  cafe  with  a  couple  of  men  from  CMQ. 
One  of  them  asked  me  what  I  wanted 
most  to  see  in  Cuba. 

I  said,  "I'd  like  to  go  to  a  typical 
Cuban  night  club."  (And  I'll  tell  you  a 
secret  which  I  didn't  tell  them.  I've 
never  been  to  a  night  club  in  the  United 
States.)  "I  want  to  see  them  play  the 
maracas,"  I  said,  "and  do  the  native 
Cuban  dances." 

One  of  the  men — and  I  think  he  was 
a  technician  at  the  network — pointed 
across  the  table  at  the  other  Cuban  and 
said,  "There  is  the  greatest  maraca 
player  in  Cuba." 

With  that  he  began  to  beat  out 
rhythms  on  his  plate  using  his  knife 
and  fork  as  sticks.  It  was  simply  won- 
derful and  I  urged  him  to  go  on.  By 
the  way,  that  was  the  first  night  I  aired 
my  Spanish  and  they  were  all  happy 
and  surprised  that  I  could  speak  their 
language. 

Well,  sir,  that  fellow  got  wound  up. 
He  took  all  the  water  glasses  around  the 
table  and  tuned  them  to  a  scale.  He 
played  on  them,  making  beautiful 
Spanish  music. 

He  asked  me  where  I  was  staying  and 
I  told  him  at  the  National  Hotel.  Then 
he  asked,  "Do  you  have  a  balcony?" 

I  said,   "Of  course." 

He  said,  "I  will  serenade  you  to- 
night." 

He  didn't  of  course,  and  I  knew  he 
wouldn't  but  I  thought  it  was  cute  of 
him  even  to  suggest  it. 

Since  a  miracle  had  happened  to  me, 
just  my  being  there,  I  felt  God  was  on 
my  side.  He  certainly  was  when  I  met 
the  President  of  Cuba.  Yes,  I  did  that, 
too.  I  did  everything.  And  I  don't  know 
what  possessed  me  to  do  what  I  did 
except  that  God  was  looking  after  me. 
This  is  what  happened: 

The  President  of  Cuba,  Raymond 
Grau  e  San  Martin,   dedicated  Radio- 


centro  with  a  speech  over  CMQ  at 
twelve  noon.  We  all  heard  it  and  loved 
it.  Afterwards  he  and  his  staff  returned 
to  one  of  the  big  studios  and  all  of  the 
Americans  who  had  come  down  on  the 
plane  lined  up  to  be  introduced  to  him. 
Now  imagine  you're  one  of  those  people 
filing  past  the  President.  How  do  you 
know  what  to  do? 

When  it  came  my  turn  to  meet  him  I 
did  not  stick  out  my  hand  to  shake  his. 
Instead  I  just  bowed  and  said,  in  Span- 
ish, "Honored."  How  thankful  I  was 
that  I  had  done  just  that  and  only  that. 
For  the  person  directly  behind  me 
started  to  shake  hands  with  him  and 
his  aide,  who  stood  behind  him,  said, 
"The  president  does  not  shake  hands." 

At  first  I  thought  this  must  be  some 
Cuban  custom.  But  I  remembered  from 
my  days  in  Mexico  that  the  Latins  are 
great  ones  for  shaking  hands.  Later 
I  learned  about  President  Grau.  He  is 
greatly  loved  in  Cuba  but  for  several 
years  he  was  in  exile  and  when,  at 
last,  he  came  back  the  people  were  so 
glad  to  see  him  that  they  shook  his  hand 
so  much  they  crippled  it. 

Now  to  pick  up  the  loose  ends  and  to 
tell  you  the  other  things  I  did.  On 
Thursday  we  had  lunch  at  the  Colony 
Restaurant  and  I've  never  tasted  any- 
thing better  than  that  "arroz  con  polio," 
a  native  dish.  That  same  afternoon 
some  of  our  party  went  to  the  Jockey 
Club  to  see  the  horse  races  but  I  pre- 
ferred a  sight  seeing  trip  around  old 
Havana.  Later  the  Cuban  Advertisers 
Association  gave  a  cocktail  party  for 
us  at  the  Lyceum  Tennis  Club  and  at 
ten  o'clock  that  night  we  witnessed  a 
Jai-alai  game. 

On  Friday,  Radiocentro  was  blessed 
by  Cardinal  Manuel  Arteaga  and  all  the 
employees  and  the  talent  of  CMQ  were 
present.  Then  the  president  spoke  and, 
as  I've  told  you,  received  everyone. 

Saturday  there  was  a  wonderful 
luncheon  at  the  Vedado  Tennis  Club 
and  more  radio  programs  to  be  seen 
and  heard.  Then  we  went  to  the  Ha- 
vana Yacht  Club. 

On  Sunday  we  were  on  the  Constella- 
tion flying  back  to  the  United  States. 
When  we  took  off  from  Cuba  the  sky 
above  us  was  like  blue  satin  and  the 
bay  below  us  looked  like  blue  satin,  too. 

I  am  back  now.  I  have  told  this  story 
to  my  friends  and  my  son  and  daugh- 
ter-in-law. I  am  going  to  Washington 
to  tell  it  to  my  daughter  and  her  hus- 
band. It  is  an  experience  that  will  live 
in  my  memory  forever  and  it  makes  me 
believe  that  if  you  want  something 
enough,  if  you  dream  about  it  enough, 
it  can  and  will  happen. 


find  a  new  star  with 

HORACE 
H  EIDT 

Every  Sunday  night  Horace  Heidt  opens 
the  door  of  opportunity  to  America's 
talent.  He  gives  local  youngsters  a  chance 
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TUNE  IN  TO      HORACE    HEIDT.  .  .  EVERY  SUNDAY  NIGHT 

Over  All  Stations  of  the  National  Broadcasting  Co. 

And   read    Horace    Heidt's  own   story  in  the  August  issue  of  TRUE    STORY   magaiine 

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Hear  his  touring,  talent-hunting  show  and 
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a 


I  tried  to  commit  Suicide! 


u 


You  will  want  to  read  every  story  in  the  August  issue  of 

TRUE  EXPERIENCE 

the  magazine  written  by  men  and  women  you  have 

read  about  in  the  newspapers the  magazine  that 

reveals  the  untold  human  emotions  and  conflicts 
behind  these  dramatic  TRUE  EXPERIENCES. 


Ten  Year  Vigil  Ends  at  Altar 

"I  Married  Tarzan" 
by  Allene  Weismuller 


Mother  Put  in  Jail 
—Tells  Her  Story 

"I  Gave  Away  My  Children" 
by  Ro villa  Fen  ton 


Couple  Defy  KKK; 
Arm  to  Shoot  It  Out 

"We  Fought  the  KKK" 
by  Bertha  Bow  land 


This  is  Bobbie  Allen— saved  from  destroy- 
ing the  talent  that  made  her  life  a  torture. 
You  will  understand  and  sympathize  with 
the  motives  that  drove  this  lovely  young 
musician  to  the  brink  of  suicide. 


<*, 


31 


AND  JO  OTHER  FEATURE  STORIES 


TRUE 


AU& 


xpenence 

I  The   Magazine   of   FACT,  not   Fiction 


On  tale  at 

your  newsstand 

NOW! 


R 
M 

99 


yiTOWialiOn 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — we'll  try  to  find  the  answers 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's  something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information  Booth  or  by  mail — but  be 
sure  to   sign  full  name   and   address,   and   attach  this  box   to   your  letter. 


R 
■ 

100 


RETRACTION 

Dear  Editor: 

In  a  recent  issue 
of  your  magazine 
(April)  the  Infor- 
mation Booth  made 
the  statement  that 
Norma  Jean  Nilson 
was  the  youngest 
member  of  AFRA. 
I  believe  that  Norma 
Jean  is  a  few  months  _  Anne  Whitfield 
older  than  Anne  Whitfield  who  will  be 
ten  in  August,  and  who  has  been  a  member 
of  AFRA  for  several  years.  Anne  appears 
as  Phyllis  on  the  Band  Wagon  program 
and  as  Penny  in  One  Man's  Family.  She 
is  also  heard  frequently  in  many  of  the 
other   "big  name"   shows. 

Mrs.  J.  M. 
Birmingham,  Ala. 

You're  very  right,  and  we  gladly  print 
a  retraction.  Norma  Jean,  who  was  born 
on  January  1,  1938,  is  seven  months  older 
than  Anne  Whitfield  who  was  born  on 
August  27,  1938. 

NEWSREELS, 
YES 

Dear  Editor: 

One  of  my  favorite 
programs  is  Honey- 
moon in  New  York, 
mainly  because  of 
the  host,  "Big"  Ed 
Herlihy.  Is  his  the 
voice  that  is  often 
heard  in  some  of 
the  newsreels?  I've 
often  wondered  about  this  because  his  name 
appears  at  the  beginning  of  the  news 
showing. 

Mrs.  M.  E.  S. 
Northampton,  Pa. 

Yes  is  the  answer.  Tall,  husky  Ed  is 
known  to  movie-goers  as  "the  voice  of 
Universal  Newsreels."  You've  also  heard 
his  friendly  voice  on  news  broadcasts,  and 
special  events  programs  on  NBC. 

HOLLACE  CAN 
SING,  TOO 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  listened  to 
the  Saturday  Night 
Serenade  ever  since 
young  Vic  Damone 
started  singing  on 
the  program  last 
year.  I'm  a  devoted 
fan  of  Vic's  and  as 
such  I  just  naturally 
know  quite  a  bit  about  him.  However,  I 
know  nothing  about  lovely  Hollace  Shaw 
who  also  is  a  featured  singer  on  the  same 
program.  She  has  one  of  the  finest  voices 
I  have  ever  heard — it's  wonderful !  I'm 
writing  to  request  some  information  about 
Miss    Shaw.     Where    and    when    was    she 


Ed  Herlihy 


Hollace  Shaw 


born,  her  height,  and  the  color  of  her  hair 
and  eyes. 

Miss  M.  V. 
Ridgewood,  N.  J. 

Born  in  Fresno,  California,  not  so  long 
ago,  Hollace  is  5'  8"  tall,  and  as  you  must 
have  noticed  in  our  Saturday  Night  Sere- 
nade Broadcast  spread  (May  issue)  she  is 
a  blue-eyed  blonde.  Just  in  case  you  missed 
that  issue,  here's  another  picture,  this  time 
a  closeup. 

BROADCAST  TICKETS 

Dear  Editor: 

My  girl  friend  and  I  are  visiting  New 
York  late  this  summer  and  we  would  like 
to  see  some  radio  programs  but  don't  know 
how  to  get  tickets.  Would  appreciate  any 
information  you  could  give  us. 

Miss  M.  M. 
Pine  Bluff,  Ark. 

For  tickets  to  shows  broadcast  from  ABC, 
address  your  requests  at  least  three  weeks 
in  advance  to  Guest  Relations,  30  Rocke- 
feller Plaza,  New  York.  Follow  the  same 
procedure  for  NBC  programs,  same  ad- 
dress. Requests  for  tickets  from  CBS  should 
be  sent  to  Broadcast  Ticket  Division,  485 
Madison  Avenue,  New  York,  at  least  three 
or  four  weeks  in  advance.  You  out-of- 
towners  get  a  break — guest  courtesy  cards 
can  be  secured  from  your  local  CBS  outlet 
entitling  you  to  a  visit  to  any  two  CBS 
programs.  Some  tickets  are  available  at 
the  CBS  and  NBC  buildings  for  programs 
on  the  same  day. 

IN  THE 
FAMILY? 

Dear  Editor: 

Who  is  this  Ersel 
Twing  who's  heard 
on  the  Charley  Mc- 
Carthy  Show? 

Mr.  C.  M. 
Woodbury,  N.  J. 

Don't  let  this  pic- 
ture fool  you — Pat 
Patrick  (he's  Ersel) 
is  really  a  rugged,  handsome  man,  not  the 
scatter-brained  professor,  as  pictured  here, 
on  the  Charley  McCarthy  Show.  (This 
show  has  been  summer-replaced  by  the 
Robert  Shaw  Chorale  Sundays,  NBC  sta- 
tions.) In  Strawberry  Point,  Iowa,  Pat  is 
still  best  remembered  as  Ersel  Kirkpatrick 
— a  stage-struck  youth  who  ran  away  from 
home  at  sixteen  to  join  a  circus.  In  the 
years  since,  he  has  traveled  up  and  down 
the  land  appearing  in  circuses,  the  Chau- 
tauqua circuit,  stock  companies  and  night 
clubs  as  well  as  radio.  Many  people  have 
asked  Pat  if  the  character  Ersel  Twing  is 
based  on  a  real  person.  Pat's  answer  is 
that,  "He's  a  little  like  my  father,  I  think, 
and  a  great  deal  like  my ■  brother  who 
teaches  school  in  a  little  town  in  New  York 
state."  What  Pat's  father  and  brother  think 
about  this,  we  don't  know. 


Pat  Patrick 


Mary  Eee  Taylor 

and   rebroadcast   at 


HOUSEWIFE'S 
BEST  FRIEND 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  me  whether 
Mary  Lee  Taylor  is 
still  on  the  air?  The 
station  and  time? 
Mrs.  F.  J.  S. 
Delaware,  Ohio 

Miss  Taylor's  pro- 
gram is  heard  Satur- 
days at  10:30  A.  M 
2:00  P.  M.  EDT  over  139  CBS  stations.  The 
first  half  of  her  double  feature  show  is  a 
dramatic  story  of  the  life  of  a  young  mar- 
ried couple;  the  second  half  offers  sugges- 
tions for  time-  and  money-saving  meal  helps 
and  recipes.  A  tireless  worker,  Miss  Taylor 
spends  at  least  eight  hours  a  day  in  her 
test  kitchens  directing  the  work  of  her 
five  assistants.  She  tests  all  recipes  until 
they  are  failure  proof  and  easy  to  use. 


THE  MYSTERY 

MAN 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
give  me  some  infor- 
mation about  the  ac- 
tor who  plays  Roger 
Elliot  in  House  of 
Mystery  on  Sundays 
on  the  Mutual  net- 
work. The  stories 
are  intriguing. 


John  Griggs 

Miss  S.  E.  S. 


Philadelphia,  Pa. 

As  the  Mystery  Man  in  House  of  Mystery, 
John  Griggs  finds  his  early  experience  tell- 
ing stories  to  children  in  public  libraries 
helps  him  lend  a  true-to-life  air  to  his  role. 
Griggs'  first  radio  fob  came  in  the  summer 
of  1928  when  he  became  a  staff  announcer 
and  producer  at  WGN,  Chicago.  Since 
then,  he  conservatively  estimates  he  has 
made  a  total  of  5,000  broadcasts.  John  has 
been  the  Roger  Elliot  of  House  of  Mystery 
since  January  15,  1945,  when  the  program 
first  went  on  the  air.  And  those  intriguing 
stories    are    written    by   free-lance   writers. 

HILDEGARDE 

Dear  Editor: 

Where,  oh  where 
is  Hildegarde?  I 
haven't  been  able  to 
find  her  at  all  this 
past  season  and  we 
miss  her. 

Mrs.  E.  E.  L. 
Memphis,  Tenn. 

Hildegarde  didn't 
have  a  regular  air 
show  this  past  season.  However,  she  has 
appeared  occasionally  as  a  guest  artist  on 
some  of  the  network  programs.  Currently, 
Hildegarde  is  making  a  personal  appear- 
ance tour  in  various  parts  of  the  country. 


Hildegarde 


|ovely  Dresses  Given  to  You ! 


i 


w 


If  there's  one  thing  every  woman  can 
always  use,  it's  a  new  dress!  Espe- 
cially when  it's  beautifully  made  in 
the  latest  style  and  the  newest  colors  and 
fabrics  such  as  those  shown  on  this  page. 
How  would  you  like  to  receive  one,  two,  three 
or  even  more  lovely  Fall  dresses,  without  pay- 
ing a  penny  of  cost?  That's  right,  without  pay 
ing  out  a  single  cent  in  cash!  Well,  here's  your 
chance.  It's  a  remarkable  opportunity  offered 
by  FASHION  FROCKS,  INC.,  America's 
largest  direct  selling  dress  company.   Our 
dresses  are  bought  by  women  in  every  state, 
and  nearly  every  county.  We  need  new  rep- 
resentatives right  away  to  take  orders  in  spare  time 
and  send  them  to  us.  Any  woman,  even  without 
previous  experience,  can  act  as  our  representa- 
tive. Whether  you  are  married  or  single  — 


WEAR  IT  with  and  without 
the  dickey— a  classic  with  a 
double  life. 


housewife  or  employed  —  you  can  get  the  chance  to  obtain 

stunning  dresses  as  a  bonus— dresses  that  will  not  cost  you  a 

penny.  In  addition,  you  can  make  splendid  weekly  cash 

commissions— up  to  $23  and  $25  a  week,  or  more!  You 

simply  take  orders  when  and  where  you  please  for 

FASHION  FROCKS  -  gorgeous  originals  of  exquisite 

fabrics,  unbelievably  low-priced  down  to  $3.98.  For 

every  order,  you  get  paid  in  cash  on  the  spot. 

|       NO  CANVASSING- NO  EXPERIENCE  NECESSARY 

V     Don't  think  you  need  experience.  Every  dress  carries  the 

famous  seal  of  Good  Housekeeping  Magazine,  and  is 

sold  on  a  Money  Back  Guarantee.  When  women  see  these 

exclusive  styles— so  different  from  run-of-the-mill  dresses— 

so  easy  to  buy  without  going  to  crowded  stores— they  just 

can't  help  but  order  2  and  3  at  a  time!  Women  can't  resist 

the  alluring  new  fashions  created  especially  by  Constance 

Bennett,  glamorous  movie  star  and  "one  of  the  world's 

ten  best-dressed  women."  Miss  Bennett's  name  alone 

makes  orders  so  easy,  about  all  you  have  to  do  is  write 

them  down.  What  a  pleasant  way  to  take 

in  steady  cash  earnings  week  after  week! 

Can't  you  use  a  handy  extra  income  — 

especially  with  Christmas  coming  on? 

And  wouldn't  you  like  your  own  lovely 

dresses  without  cost?  Here's  your  chance. 

Just  mail  the  coupon  below! 

START  EARNING  RIGHT  AWAY1 

So  many  women  are  taking  this  easy 

way  to  make  money,  there  aren't  too 

many  openings  left.  So  don't  put  it 

off.  Get  started  earning  extra  money 

for  the  things  you  want.  Your  Style 

Portfolio— with  samples  of  America's 

finest  fabrics— is  absolutely  free.  Make 

up  your  mind  right  now— then  send  the 

coupon.  There's  no  obligation,  nothing 

to  pay.  Paste  the  coupon  on  a  post  card, 

and  mail  it  today! 


'S&utett 

.  .  .  fascinating  star 
of  stage,  screen, 
and  radio.  One  of 
the  world's  ten 
best-dressed 
women.  Designer 
for  Fashion  Frocks. 


'My  designs  for  these  lovely  Fashion 

Frocks  were  inspired  by  the  $200  to 

$300  dresses  that  drew  so  many 

compliments    when   I   wore  them 

myself.  I'm  so  proud  to  offer  them 

at  a  tiny  fraction   of  that  cost." 


DESK  A2039,  CINCINNATI  25,  OHIO 


FASHION  FROCKS,  INC. 

Desk  <\2039  Cincinnati  25,  Ohio 

Yes— I  am  interested  in  your  opportunity  to  make  money 
in  spare  time  and  get  my  own  dresses  without  a  penny  of 
cost.  Reserve  my  Free  Portfolio  and  send  me  full  informa- 
tion, without  obligation. 


Name- 


Ad  dress- 


-Zone- 


State- 


Dress  Size- 


C^^^^___^^-XJOTTOlsl\qLASS I CS_FO^^tJlT>N D  FASHION! 


"In  dress  designing  ...  and  in 
choosing  a  cigarette,  too  •  • . 
EXPERIENCE  IS  THE  BEST  TEACHER!" 


Dorothy  Cox,  shown  here 
in  her  salon,  developed  her 
keen  color  sense,  her  re- 
gard for  detail,  through  the 
study  of  portrait  painting. 
Now  she  lavishes  all  her 
talents  on  day-in,  day-out, 
typically  American  fashions. 
Outstanding  achievement? 
That  classic  favorite,  the 
shirtwaist  dress  as  tailored 
by  McMullen! 


•  Dorothy  Cox 
makes  this  sun- 
seeking  dress  with 
shoulder  kerchief. 
Notice  how  beach- 
comber plaid  cot- 
ton becomes  a  for- 
mal fabric  in  this 
undecorated   style! 


•  Palest  grey 
chambray  is 
beguilingly 
feminine  in 
this  gently 
styled  shirt- 
waist dress 
with  its 
immaculate 
white  tucked 
bosom  and 
subtly  flared 
skirt. 


City  or  country,  at  work  or  at  play  —  wherever 
you  turn,  you'll  find  more  and  more  people  smoking 
Camels.  Why?  Let  your  "T-Zone"  tell  you.  (That's 
T  for  Taste  and  T  for  Throat.)  Let  your  taste  tell 
you  about  Camel's  marvelous  flavor.  Let  your  throat 
discover  that  wonderful  Camel  mildness  and  cool- 
ness. See  why,  with  smokers  who  have  tried  and 
compared  different  brands  of  cigarettes,  Camels  are 
the  "choice  of  experience." 


According  to  a  Nationwide  survey: 

MORE  DOCTORS  SMOKE  CAMELS 

THAN  ANY  OTHER  CIGARETTE 


Three  leading  independent  research 
rJr.d  thirteen  thousand,  6vc  hitndr 
whiit  cigarette  the?  smsked.  The  l»r 


irganizalions  asked  one  hun- 
il  and  ninety-seven  doctors 
nd  named  mosl  was  Camel. 


©»w^ 


I 


TURKISH  &•  DOMESTIC 

BLEND 

CIGARETTES 


I 


Let  your  "T-Zone"  fell  you 

T  for  Taste... 

T  for  Throat... 

that's  your  proving 
ground  for  any 
cigarette.  See  if 
Camels  don't  suit 
your  "T-Zone" 
to  a  "T." 


H.J.  Reynolds 
Tobacco  Co., 

Wlnalon-aalom, 
N.C. 


%jjjpf 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AJYD  TELEVISIO 


W 


JINX  FAl.KENBURG 


PADDY 


BACKSTAGE  WIFE 

Complete  story  in  pictures 


KEMEMiWHlW 
TOM  BRENEMAN 

by  Garry  Moore 


SHOW  THE  WORLD 

A  LOVELIER  SKIN! 


Everybody's  talking  about  the  new  Bath-Size  Camay.  Buying  it. 

Trying  it.  Praising  it  to  the  skies!  Because  this  bigger  Camay 

makes  every  bath  a  luxurious  beauty  treatment.  Bathe  with  it  every  day 

of  your  life— and  your  skin  will  be  lovelier  from  head  to  toe. 

And  you'll  rise  from  your  bath  just  touched  with  the  delicate, 

flower-like  fragrance  of  Camay,  the  Soap  of  Beautiful  Women! 


CAMAY 
NOW  IN  2  SIZES! 

Use  Regular  Camay  for  your 
complexion— the  new  Bath-Size 
for  your  Camay  Beauty  Bath. 


QQund/ 


etf* 


says  this  sparkling  junior  model 


And  cover-girl  Louise  Hyde's  crowded 
date-life  owes  plenty  to  her  Ipana  smile! 


Having  a  high  time  is  no  novelty  for 
luscious  New  Yorker,  Louise  Hyde.  A 
radiant  personality  with  a  radiant  Ipana 
smile,  20-year-old  Louise  is  a  top-flight 
Thornton  model.  And  as  for  dates  — 
Louise  has  a  calendarful.  Her  smile  is  a 
magnet  for  the  lads !  For  a  date-winning 
smile  of  your  own,  follow  Louise's 
"model"  dental  routine:  Regular  brush- 
ing with  Ipana  Tooth  Paste,  then  gentle 
gum  massage.  Get  a  tube  of  Ipana  today ! 


Under  the  spell  of  Louise's  enchanting  smile, 
her  handsome  date,  Bill  Loock,  dreams  as  he 
drives.  Clever  Louise  — to  guard  that  date-bait 
smile  with  Ipana!  For  more  dentists  recommend 
and  use  Ipana  than  any  other  tooth  paste,  a 
recent  national  survey  shows. 


Air-minded.  Louise  is  learning  the  know-how 
of  flying.  But  she  doesn't  need  coaching  in  care 
of  her  teeth  and  gums.  She  knows  that  firm, 
healthy  gums  are  important  to  sparkling  teeth, 
a  radiant  smile.  So  she  never  misses  her  Ipana 
dental  care! 


This  is  fun,  too  !  Louise  loves  Ipana's 
livelier  flavor  — the  way  it  leaves  her 
mouth  refreshed,  her  breath  sweet. Try 
Ipana!  And  follow  your  dentist's  ad- 
vice about  gum  massage.  (9  out  of  10 
dentists  recommend  massage  regular- 
ly or  in  special  cases,  according  to  a 
recent  national  survey.) 


Product  af  Brislol-Mym 


*       *       *       *       * 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl  ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

AM  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed  —  so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 


Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39(  plus  tax. 


(Advertisement) 
*  *  •  *         • 


SEPTEMBER,  1948 


VOL.  30,  NO  4 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AJVXt  TELEVISION 


KEYSTONE 


My  First  Audition by  Edgar  Bergen  25 

The  World  With  A  Fence  Around  It by  Harriet  Van  Home  26 

Remembering  Tom  Breneman by  Garry   Moore  28 

I  Was  The  Wife  Of  The  Week by  Mrs.  Frank  S.  Pillion  30 

My  Friend,  Lowell  Thomas by  Wells  Church  32 

Through  The  Years  With  Backstage  Wife — In  Pictures 36 

"The  Tremaynes  Are  At  Home" — In  Pictures 42 

Bride  and  Groom  and  A  Trout  Named  Pappy by  John  Nelson  44 

"The  Love  We  Found" by  Betty  Winkler  46 

Traveler  of  the  Month. .  .• by  Tommy  Bartlett  54 

Come  and  Visit  Hoagy  Carmicbael by  Pauline  Swanson  56 

'  .1 

Facing  The  Music by  Duke  Ellington  10 

Johnny  Mercer  12 

Win  In  A  Waltz 13 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

William  Shirer  21 

Minnie   Pearl 22 

Sam  Cowling 23 

Inside  Radio  66 

It's  Here  69 

Information   Booth    72 

Stork  Facts by  Terry   Burton  6 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 8 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  40 

Lazy  Day  Dinners by  Kate  Smith  60 

WMCA:  Three  For  the  Giants 4 

KDKA:  Richard    Karp 16 

WFIL:  Uncle  to  50,000 18 

WBEN:  Ironic    Reporter 20 

WINS:  Mel  Allen 52 

Tex-Jinx  Productions   48 

Heigh-Ho,  Video    50 

Doorway  To  Fame 51 


AS  10  flP?Ue 


Paul  and  Nicolette — A  One  Man's  Family  Novelette  by  Helen  Christy  Harris     62 
ON  THE  COVER:  The  McCrary  Family;  color  portraits  by  Geoffrey   Morris 


Editorial  Director 
FRED   R.   SAMMIS 


Editor 
DORIS    M.  J  IIHK.\  N 


Art  Director 
JACK    ZASORIN 


Managing  Editor 
EVELYN   L.  FIORE 


Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES  MALY 


Television 
JOAN    MURPHY    LLOYD 


Staff  Photographers: 


Hollywood  Office :  Editor,      ANN    DAGGETT 
UYMIE  FINK,  STERLING  SMITH;        Assistant: 


Research 
TERU   GOTO 


BETTY  JO   RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIKHOH,  published  monthly  uv  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS.  INC.,  New  fork,  N.  i. 
Ccnenil  Business.  Edllorl.il  :iml  Ailvei  -Using  Olllees.  20.1  F.ist  12nd  St..  New  York  17.  N.  Y.  Hollywood— Beverly  Hills 
Office:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills,  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise.  Executive  Vice  President; 
Herbert  Drake,  Vice  President;  Joseph  SchultZ,  Vice  President:  S,  O.  Shapiro,  Vice  President;  Ernest  V.  Heyn.  Vice 
President:  Mevci  Dworkin.  Secretary  and  Treasurer;  Edward  F.  Lethen,  Advertising  Director.  Chicago  Office:  224 
North  La  Salle  St.,  Leslie  H.  Gaffe,  Mt:r.  San  Francisco  Office:  1613  Russ  Building,  Joseph  M.  Dooher,  Mgr.  Los 
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to  return  those  found  unavailable  If  accompanied  by  sufliciont  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and  address. 
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necessary risk.     The  contents  of  this  magazine  may   not   be  reprinted   ellher  wholly  or   In   part   without   permission. 

(Member  of  Macfadrien  women's  Croup) 

Copyright.    1H4H,  by  Ma, ladder]   Publlcal  ioos,   Inc.     All  rights  reserved   inider  International  Copyright  Convention.     All 

rlKhts  reserved    under    Pan-American    Copyright    Convention.     Todos    derechos    reservados    segun    La    Convencton    Pan- 

atiieilcana    de    Propiedad    Lltcraria    y    Arflslica.      Title   trademark    registered    In   U.    S.    Patent   Office. 

Printed  In  U.  S.   A.  hv  Art  Color  printing  Co..  Dunellen.  M     r 


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FOR  a  change  of  pace  and  a  change 
of  scene,  Grand  Slam  listeners  are 
invited  to  Come  and  Visit  Irene  Beas- 
ley  in  October.  Change  of  pace — Irene's 
very  active  life  and  very  heavy  sched- 
ule contrast  with  the  more  leisurely 
Hollywood  pace  of  recent  "come  and 
visits."  Change  of  scene — this  time  it's 
apartment  life  in  New  York:  no  swim- 
ming pools,  no  vast  acres,  no  vistas 
except  that  of  Central  Park.  But  for 
contrast  there's  Irene's  cabana  in  Con- 
necticut, with  the  whole  of  the  Atlantic 
Ocean  for  her  swimming  pool. 


Double  portion  of  Arthur  Godfrey 
coming  up — an  extra-special  cover  of 
Godfrey  which  all  the  editorial  staff 
agreed  was  "the  best  picture  we've 
ever  seen  of  him,  anywhere,  anytime!" 
(For  good  measure,  Janette  Davis  and 
Tony  Marvin  are  on  that  cover,  too.) 
Second  half  of  double  portion:  Octo- 
ber's Radio  Mirror  Reader  Bonus  de- 
parts from  daytime  serial  stories  for  a 
change,  and  you'll  find  instead  a  full- 
length  life  story  of  Godfrey.  That, 
alone,  is  worth  the  price  of  admission! 


As  a  companion  piece  to  the  Sep- 
tember issue  memorial  to  Tom  Brene- 
man,  written  by  Garry  Moore,  October 
Radio  Mirror  carries  a  story  about 
Garry  Moore.  With  this,  a  full  page, 
four-color  portrait  —  the  keep-and- 
frame  kind — of  Garry  Moore,  one  of 
the  busiest  men  in  the  business  since 
he  took  over  Take  It  Or  Leave  It,  and 
one  of  the  most-watched  of  the  younger 


Remember  when  a  little  street  waif 
who  called  herself  Chichi  broke  into 
Papa  David's  Slightly  Read  Book  Shop 
one  night  years  ago?  That  was  the 
beginning  of  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful, 
and  that's  where  Radio  Mirror  begins, 
too,  to  tell  the  story  of  Life  Can  Be 
Beautiful  from  that  first  day  up  to  the 
present  moment.  Four  pages  of  story- 
in-pictures — and  two  of  those  pages  in 
full  color! 


More,  too:  Dwight  Weist,  M.C.  of 
We  The  People,  tells  the  story  of  Joe 
White.  Perhaps  you  remember  him 
better  as  the  Silver-Masked  Tenor  of 
radio's  earlier  days  .  .  .  John  Nelson 
brings  readers  another  heart-warming 
Bride  and  Groom  true  love  story  .  .  .  An 
"it  happened  to  me"  story  by  one  of  the 
big  winners  on  the  grass  roots  quiz, 
R.F.D.  America  .  .  .  Tommy  Bartlett 
introduces  to  readers  another  of  the 
journeying  Americans  whom  he  meets 
on  Welcome  Travelers  .  .  .  and  that's, 
as  they  say,  not  the  half  of  it.  All  in 
October  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  on 
sale  Friday,  September  10. 


* 


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Young,  proud  and  still  pioneering 

-that's  OKLAHOMA! 

You'll  look  far  and  wide  to  find  thundering  herds, 
cowboys  and  Indians  in  Oklahoma.  But— not  so  hard 
to  find  what  makes  it  tick.  It's  the  people!  The  pio- 
neer spirit  lingers  on,  in  their  hearts,  in  their  actions 
and  efforts  to  build  a  sound  state. 

Blessed  in  its  natural  resources  —  oil  down  under, 
crops  and  livestock  on  top  —  Oklahoma  has  come  a 
long  way  since  statehood  only  forty  years  ago. 

Living  in  a  land  of  rich  harvests,  Oklahomans  relish 
the  fine  flavor  of—   , 

Beech-Nut  Gum 


//  has  the  flavor 
you  like 


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*«** 


\  Beech-Nut 

^;Sv         BEECHIES 

^V  Candy  Coated  Gum 

—good  too— 


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WILL  ROGERS  MEMORIAL 

at  Claremore.  Shrine  and  tomb 
of  Oklahoma's  beloved  cowboy' 
humorist  and  native  son. 


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£..£* 


..,.,.-.  ...  ..... .  . 


.*$?  if 


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TULSA—  "Oil  Capital  of  the 
World" — home  ojthe  Interna' 
tional  Petroleum  Exposition. 


FOR  THE 


IN  Frankie  Frisch,  the  erstwhile  Fordham  Flash  who  holds  a 
place  of  honor  in  baseball's  Hall  of  Fame,  newcomer  Maury 
Farrell,  and  Steve  Ellis,  WMCA  has  a  triumvirate  of  outstand- 
ing sports  announcers.  Frisch  and  Farrell  handle  the  WMCA 
play-by-play  broadcasts  of  all  Giant  games  while  Ellis  provides 
the  commentary  for  the  televised  games  from  the  Polo  Grounds 
and  conducts  the  nightly  sports  show,  Giant  Jottings,  over  WMCA. 

Frisch's  colorful  background  as  a  player  and  manager — he's 
been  in  baseball  since  1919 — makes  the  50-year-old  squire  of 
New  Rochelle  the  best  informed  mike-man  in  the  sport.  Captain 
of  the  baseball,  football  and  basketball  teams  at  Fordham,  Frisch 
joined  the  Giants  after  being  graduated  and  remained  with  the 
New  York  team  through  the  1926  season  when  he  was  traded  to 
the  St.  Louis  Cardinals  for  Rogers  Hornsby.  He  played  with  the 
rampaging  Gas  House  Gang  that  included  the  fabulous  Dizzy  and 
Daffy  Dean,  Pepper  Martin,  Joe  Medwick  and  Leo  "The  Lip" 
Durocher  for  the  next  decade  and  was  manager  from  1933  to 
1938.  Frisch  donned  mufti  for  the  1938  season  and  became  a 
baseball  broadcaster  in  Boston  for  one  season.  The  following 
year  he  took  over  the  command  of  the  Pittsburgh  Pirates  and  re- 
mained at  the  helm  through  the  1946  campaign.  Last  year  he 
returned  to  the  Polo  Grounds — where  he  played  his  first  major 
league  game — as  the  chief  man  in  the  broadcasting  booth.  Dur- 
ing his  19  years  as  an  active  player,  Frisch  batted  .316,  played 
in  eight  World  Series  and  was  named  to  two  All  Star  teams. 

Farrell  is  a  native  New  Yorker  who  went  South  for  his  "minor 
league"  training.  A  graduate  of  the  University  of  Miami,  his 
first  radio  experience  was  gained  as  an  announcer  at  WQAM  in 
Miami  in  1936.  Two  years  later  he  became  director  of  sports  and 
special  events  at  WAPI  in  Birmingham. 

Ellis,  in  a  comparatively  short  time,  has  established  himself  as 
one  of  the  country's  top  flight  sports  broadcasters.  Born  in  Phil- 
adelphia, Steve  attended  school  there  and  later  worked  his  way 
through  Miami  University — as  a  fight  manager,  of  all  things! 
Later  he  joined  the  staff  of  the  Miami  Daily  News  as  a  sports  re- 
porter. He's  been  identified  with  New  York  Giant  broadcasts  for 
several  years.  Steve  broke  his  "partnership"  with  Frisch  to  take 
over  the  television  assignment  this  season. 


Tin-  Giants'  home  run  champion,  Johnny  Mize,  admires  the  batting  stances  of  the  three  broad- 
casters who  furnish  the  team's  "air  power" — Maury  Farrell,  Steve  Ellis  and  Frankie  Frisch. 


What  Did  This  Bewitching 
Queen  Really  Want. . .  < 

the  doctor's  cure  oi\..the  Doctor? 

Was  she  really  sick  ...  or  did  she  just  want  to  be  alone  with  the  handsome  new  court 
physician?  Here's  one  of  the  many  enjoyable  situations  in  Edgar  Maass'  sensational  new 
best  seller,  THE  QUEEN'S  PHYSICIAN— the  story  of  a  passion  that  raised  a  commoner  to 
power  oVer  a  kingdom.  It's  yours  for  a  3c  stamp  if  you  join  the  Dollar  Book  Club  now! 


Here  Is  True 
History  as  Lively  and  Exciting  as  FOREVER  Amber! 


CAROLINE,  the  beautiful  young 
Queen  of  Denmark,  was  said 
to   be   ill    with   a   fever.    So 
handsome   Dr.   Johann   Struensee, 
newly   appointed   physician   to   the 
royal   household,   was   summoned  to 
attend  her.  From  the  moment  he  en- 
tered her  chamber,  to  find  her  alone, 
reclining  luxuriously,  her  golden  hair 
loosened  about  her  head,  the  doctor  be- 
gan to  doubt  the  purpose  of  his  mission. 
For  there  was  no  haughtiness  in  the 
Queen's  eyes— only  an  amused  and  cal- 
culating look.  This  was  not  the  trou- 
bled patient  he  expected,  but  a  de- 
lightful and  inviting  woman! 


What  did  she  really  want  of  him— 
the  court  physician — and  a  commoner? 
How  could  he  dare  to  read  her  mind, 
with  his  reputation  and  his  personal 
safety  at  stake? 

Neither  Caroline  nor  Johann  knew 
that  their  entire  future— and  the  future 
of  their  country— hung  in  the  balance 
at  that  moment. 

Set  against  the  glittering  background 
of  the  royal  court  of  18th  century- 
Denmark,  "The  Queen's  Physician"  is 
a  romantic  and  thrilling  novel.  It  is 
yours  for  just  a  3-cent  stamp  with 
membership  in  the  Dollar  Book  Club. 


The  ONLY  Book  Club  That  Brings  You  Best-Sellers  for  only  *1 


NO  other  book  club  brings  you  popu- 
lar current  books  by  famous  au- 
thors for  only  $1.00  each.  You  save  60  to 
75  per  cent  from  regular  retail  prices! 

Yet  membership  in  the  Dollar  Book 
Club  is  free  and  requires  no  dues  of  any 
kind.  You  do  not  even  have  to  take  a  book 
every  month;  the  purchase  of  as  few  as  six 
books  a  year  fulfills  your  membership  re- 
quirement. In  fact,  for  convenience',  mem- 
bers prefer  to  have  their  books  shipped 
and  pay  for  them  every  other  month. 

More   Than   700,000   Families  Buy 
Books  This  Money-Saving  Way! 

Think  of  it!  With  book-manufacturing  costs 
at  an  all-time  high;  with  most  popular  current 
fiction  selling  for  $2.75  and  $3.00  in  the  publish- 
ers' editions  at  retail,  the  Dollar  Book  Club  con- 
tinues to  bring  its  members  the  cream  of  -  the 
books  for  only  $1.00  each!  And  in  attractive, 
full-size  library  editions,  bound  in  a  format  ex- 
clusive for  members! 

Start  Enjoying  Membership  Now 

Upon  receipt  of  the  attached  coupon  with  a  3 
cent  stamp,  you  will  be  sent  a  copy  of  Edgar 
Maass'  exciting  new  romance  "The  Queen's 
Physician."  You  will  also  receive  as  your  first 
selection  for  $1.00  your  choice  of  any  of  the  best 
sellers  described  in  the  next  column: 


•  The  Golden  Hawk  by  Frank  Yerby.  Here's  even 
more  color,  sweep  and  excitement  than  The  Foxes 
of  Harrow — the  tale  of  a  bold  buccaneer  and  the 
wild-cat  beauty  he  tamed! 

•  Annie  Jordan  by  Mary  Brinker  Post.  The  heart- 
warming story  of  a  girl  who  learned  at  an  early 
age  that  nothing  in  life  comes  easy,  and  who 
fought  hsr  way  to  happiness. 

•  Came  a  Cavalier  by  Frances  Parkinson  Keyes. 
The  new  best-selling  story  of  the  New  England 
girl  who  became  a  baroness,  wife  of  an  ardent 
cavalier  and  modern  mistress  of  a  medieval  manor. 

EVERY  other  month  you  will  receive  the 
Club's  descriptive  folder  called  The  Bul- 
letin. The  Bulletin  describes  the  forthcoming  two 
months'  book  selections.  It  also  reviews  about 
ten  additional  titles  (in  the  original  publishers' 
editions  selling  at  retail  for  $2.50  or  more) 
available  to  members  at  only  $1.00  each.  You 
may  purchase  either  or  both  of  the  two  new 
selections  for  $1.00  each,  or  neither.  In  any 
case,  you  may  purchase  any  of  the  other  titles 
offered  for  $1.00  each. 

SEND  NO  MONEY 

Simply  Mail  Coupon  with  Stamp 

When  you  see  your  copy  of  "The  Queen's 
Physician" — which  you  get  for  3  cents — and  your 
first  $1.00  selection;  when  you  consider  these  are 
typical  values  you  receive  for  $1.00,  you  will 
be  more   than  happy   to  have   joined   the    Club. 


DOUBLEDAY  ONE  DOLLAR  BOOK  CLUB,  GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


Mail  This  Coupon 

DOUBLEDAY  ONE  DOLLAR  BOOK  CLUB 
Dept.9MWG,  Garden  City,  New  York 

Please  enroll  me  as  a  Dollar  Book  Club  mem- 
ber and  send  me  at  once  "The  Queen's  Physi- 
cian" for  the  enclosed  3c  stamp.  Also  send  me 
as  my  first  selection  for  $1.00  the  book  I  have 
checked  below: 

□  The  Golden  Hawk  □  Annie  Jordan 

Q  Came  a  Cavalier 

With  these  books  will  come  my  first  issue  of 
the  free  descriptive  folder  called  "The  Bulletin" 
telling  about  the  two  new  forthcoming  one- 
dollar  bargain  book  selections  and  several  addi- 
tional bargains  which  are  offered  at  $1.00»  each 
to  members  only. 

I  have  the  privilege  of  notifying  you  in  advance  if 
I  do  not  wish  either  of  the  following  months'  selec- 
tions and  whether  or  not  I  wish  to  purchase  any  of 
the  other  bargains  at  the  Special  Club  price  of  $1.00 
each.  The  purchase  of  books  is  entirely  voluntary  on 
my  part.  I  do  not  have  to  accept  a  book  every  month 
— only  six  during  each  year  that  I  remain  a  member. 
I  pay  nothing  except  $1.00  for  each  selection  received 
plus  a  few  cents  shipping  cost. 

Mr.      ) 

Mrs.    >• 

Miss    )  PLEASE  PRINT 

Address    

City,  Zone 

&  State    

If  under  21, 
Occupation Age,  please.  .  .  . 

•Same  Price  in  Canada:    105   Bond  St..   Toronto  2 


r.     .        „nA  Wr  listeners  a  "new  look"  at  maternity   clothes. 
Mrs.  Lillian   Dretzin,   of  Lane   Bryant,   gave  Terry   Burton    and  her  ^^^ 


By   TERRY      BURTON 


"lTOU'RE  going  to  have  a  baby."  I  was  so  excited  and 
W  thrilled  when  I  heard  those  words!  But  there  were 
■i-  so  many  questions  in  my  mind,  I  just  didn't  know 
where  to  start.  Here  was  a  real  job  for  a  Family 
Counselor.  When  Mrs.  Lillian  Dretzin  of  Lane  Bryant 
appeared  as  my  guest,  she  completely  straightened  out 
my  confused  thinking.  (Lane  Bryant,  Inc.,  are  the 
stores  known  country-wide  for  maternity  and  infant 
apparel,  you  know.) 

The  first  thing  Mrs.  Dretzin  told  me  was  "Start  with 
yourself,  Mrs.  Burton — don't  make  the  mistake  so 
many  other  prospective  mothers  do — that  of  imme- 
diately running  out  and  buying  the  baby's  layette  with 
no  thought  for  yourself."  After  looking  forward  and 
planning  for  my  baby's  clothes,  this  was  quite  a  dis- 
appointment to  me.  But  then  Mrs.  Dretzin  hastened  to 
explain  that  there  would  be  plenty  of  time  to  plan  for 
the  baby's  outfits,  but  that  it  was  important  to  prepare 
myself  physically  for  the  months  ahead.  (This  was 
right  after  I  had  had  my  accident,  as  you  may  re- 
member.) 

Then  she  went  on  to  say:  "And  remember,  Mrs.  Bur- 
ton, it's  no  longer  necessary  for  an  expecting  mother 
to  feel  self-conscious  of  her  appearance.  A  modern 
mother  is  proud  of  herself,  especially  since  today's 
maternity  fashions  are  designed  to  make  you  look  so 
pert  and  pretty." 

Of  course,  I  know  all  about  those  lovely  clothes,  but 
Stan  and  I  have  been  watching  expenses  so  closely 
that  I  didn't  feel  we  could  afford  to  buy  a  wardrobe 
that  I  wouldn't  be  able  to  wear  again. 

Then  Mrs.  Dretzin  came  forth  with  some  good  news. 
"Believe  it  or  not,  Mrs.  Burton,  you  can  have  the  'new 
look'  in  maternity  clothes  and  stay  within  your 
budget!"  she  said.  "Designers  are  most  conscious  of 
that  fact  and  their  prices  fit  your  pocketbook.    And 


don't  forget,  the  new  styles  are  readily  adaptable. 
You'll  be  wearing  the  same  ballerina  skirts  and  smart 
box  suits  and  coats  long  after  the  baby  has  arrived." 

But  that  was  enough  about  me!  I  was  so  anxious 
to  find  out  about  the  layette  that  I  practically  begged 
our  Family  Counselor  for  information. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Burton,  the  first  things  to  consider  are 
the  essentials  such  as  diapers  and  shirts,"  Mrs.  Dretzin 
said.  I  guess  my  disappointment  must  have  shown  in 
my  face,  for  she  laughed  a  bit  and  continued,  "Every 
young  mother  wants  to  buy  fancy  baby  things,  but  the 
layette  should  be  made  up  primarily  of  a  few  and 
simple  things.  Remember,  you  can  focus  your  atten- 
tion on  the  baby's  real  needs  and  still  have  a  charming 
layette.    Don't  worry,  the  trimmings  come  later. 

"Remember,  the  layette  should  be  designed  to  keep 
the  infant  clean,  comfortable  and  safe.  In  no  way 
should  the  garments  interfere  with  the  baby's  freedom. 
It  is  tiny  for  such  a  short  time  that  you  don't  want 
to  accumulate  a  lot  of  unnecessary  things." 

Then,  as  the  Family  Counselor  drew  to  a  close,  Mrs. 
Dretzin  showed  me  a  series  of  seven  pamphlets,  pre- 
pared by  the  Maternity  Center  Association.  All  that 
Mrs.  Dretzin  had  been  telling  me  and  much  more  was 
included  in  the  gaily  illustrated  series.  It  is  something 
every  young  mother  will  want  to  have — it  has  so  many 
helpful  hints  and  advice.  I  asked  our  Family  Counselor 
if  we  couldn't  offer  it  to  you. 

Result:  if  you  send  a  postal  card  addressed  to  Lane 
Bryant,  Inc.,  752  East  Market  Street,  Indianapolis,  In- 
diana, you'll  get  your  free  copy  of  "Stork  Facts." 

With  the  Family  Counselor  portion  of  The  Second 
Mrs.  Burton,  we  want  to  include  topics  that  are  of 
interest  to  you.  If  you  have  a  problem  that  you  would 
like  to  hear  discussed,  won't  you  send  it  along  to 
me,  c/o  Radio  Mirror? 


Every  Wednesday,  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  (played  by  Patsy  Campbell)    is  visited  by  an  authority  on  some  phase  of  women's-world  interest. 
Through  this  department,  Terry  Burton  shares  some  of  these  visits    with   Radio  Mirror  readers.  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  may  be  heard 

each  Monday  through  Friday  at  2  P.M.,  EDT  on  CBS  stations. 


way-  see  ffie  astvn/s/u'nj 

difference  ingour  stin/ 


/n  i/f6  mosfc/ramat/o  beauty  fesfei/er 


"Better  than  my  own  favorite 
face  powder!". . .  that's  how  enthusiastic 
women  from  Coast  to  Coast  rated  the 
amazing  New  Woodbury  Powder. 
4  out  of  5  preferred  Woodbury  to  the 
powder  they  were  using!  And  Woodbury 
won  on  an  average  of  4  to  1  over  all 
leading  brands  of  powder. 

Actually  women  preferred  Woodbury  for 
every  beauty  quality!  They  raved  about  its 
"satin-smoothness  on  the  skin". . . 
loved  its  richness  of  shade  that  gives  a 
warmer,  livelier  color-glow! 

Discover  now  that  New  Woodbury 
Powder  makes  the  most 
dramatic  difference  on  your  skin . . . 
that  it  is  literally  the 
world's  finest  face  powder. 


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New  Secret  Ingredient 

gives  a  satin-smooth  finish  to  your 

skin.  It  gives  a  natural  "unpowdered"  look 

...yet  covers  tiny  blemishes. 

New  Revolutionary  Blending! 

In  all  cosmetic  history  there  has  never 
been  anything  like  Woodbury's  new 
"Super-Blender."  It  gives  warmest,  liveliest 
shades . . .  finest-ever  texture! 


6exc/fing  stedes 

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"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  get9  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Always  use 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
after  you  eat  and  before 
every  dale 


"NUMBER    PLEASE" 
Radio  Mirror's  Best  Letter  of  the  Month 

Dear  Papa  David: 

When  Mother  sent  me  to  a  famous 
hospital,  desperately  hoping  that  some 
miracle  of  surgery  could  correct  my 
faulty  sight,  I  dreamed  of  the  great 
things  I'd  do  if  a  successful  operation 
could  be  performed.  But  when  three 
veteran  specialists  quietly  shook  their 
heads,  my  dream  castle  was  swept 
away.  I  came  home  knowing  that  I 
could  never  see  well,  and  in  from  six 
to  nine  years,  total  darkness  must  over- 
take me. 

"What  do  you  plan  to  do,  Will?" 
Mother  asked  one  evening. 

"I  don't  know,  Mother,"  I  replied.  "I 
think  I  may  try  for  a  job  as  time- 
keeper at  the  limestone  quarry.  Uncle 
Jed  said  there  may  be  an  opening  there 
any  day.  It  isn't  far  away,  I  know 
many  of  the  men,  and  I  could  look  at 
my  time  books  as  closely  as  I  wish." 

Feeling  a  bit  timid  and  uncertain 
about  the  whole  thing,  I  applied  for  the 
job.  Fortunately,  I  knew  Mr.  Burk, 
the  foreman. 

"Our  timekeeper  is  quitting,"  I  was 
informed.  "You  shall  have  first  con- 
sideration." 

A  week  later — on  my  sixteenth  birth- 
day— I  went  to  work  for  the  first  time 
in  my  life.  How  proud  I  was  of  the 
bright  new  pencils,  the  timebook  with 
its  leather  cover,  and  the  clean  white 
time-sheets!  For  eight  months  every- 
thing went  along  in  splendid  fashion. 
But  with  stunning  suddenness  came 
the  day  when  I  slowly  walked  home 
and  told  Mother  the  bad  news — the 
quarry  was  going  to  be  under  new 
management,  with  a  new  foreman,  and 


settm 


all  employees  would  have  to  wear  lit- 
tle numbered  badges  on  their  caps.  I'd 
never  be  able  to  read  those  numbers! 

"I  can't  tell  you  a  thing — but  come 
to  work  tomorrow  morning — I'll  be 
there  to  help  the  new  foreman  get 
started,"  Mr.  Burk  had  said,  his  voice 
carrying  a  tone  of  sympathy. 

On  the  following  morning,  with  dread 
in  my  heart,  I  faced  the  new  foreman. 
He  was  big  and  brawny,  with  a  stern, 
ruddy  face.  When  he  saw  my  time- 
book  he  said,  "It'll  be  numbers  instead 
of  names  from  now  on,  kid.  Under- 
stand?" 

I  was  trying  to  gather  enough  cour- 
age to  explain  about  my  eyes  when  Mr. 
Burk  called  the  new  foreman  to  his 
side.  They  talked  for  a  brief  moment. 
The  new  foreman  walked  to  the  front 
of  the  rambling  tool  shed  and  signaled 
the  workers  to  be  quiet. 

"Men,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  all  to  un- 
derstand that  the  new  management  has 
an  important  new  ruling,  effective  im- 
mediately. Every  employee  must 
know  his  number  and  call  it  out  when 
the  timekeeper  says  'Number  please.' 
Now,  if  that  is  clear,  we'll  go  to  work." 

A  lump  swelled  in  my  throat  as  I 
hugged  the  big  brown  timebook.  Days 
later,  when  I  had  proved  that  I  could 
handle  the  work  the  foreman  ap- 
proached me  and,  smiling,  sat  down 
beside  me.  When  he  said,  "I  think 
we're  going  to  hit  it  off  together  pretty 
well,  kid,"  I  instantly  saw  in  my  future 
— even  after  blindness  arrives — a  span 
of  happy  years  that  shall  hold  only 
brightness  and  joyous  contentment  and 
beauty,  for  my  brawny  comrade  went 
on  to  say,  "I'm  going  to  see  to  it,  kid, 
that  you  stay  here  just  as  long  as  you 
can  say,  'Number  please.'  " 

K.  D.  S. 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50  EACH  MONTH  FOR  YOUR  LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a  key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-for- 
gotten friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant  incident,  which  suddenly  illumi- 
nated the  whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring  such  a  memory,  won't  you 
write  to  Papa  David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers  best  each  month,  Radio 
Mirror  will  pay  fifty  dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have  room  enough  to 
print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters  can  be  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful  let- 
ter to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  New  York  17,  New  York. 


*   •-"■'** 


This    month's    ten-dollar    letters    follow: 
PRICELESS    GIFTS 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  worked  for  two  years  before  my 
husband  died,  after  a  long  illness. 
When  he  passed  away  my  two  boys, 
Mike  and  Jerry,  were  four  and  five, 
and  my  little  girl,  Patsy,  seven. 

Patsy  was  a  great  help  to  me.  One 
day  while  she  was  at  a  neighbor's  the 
boys,  Mike  and  Jerry,  decided  they 
wanted  to  do  something  nice  for  me. 
While  trying  to  wash  and  put  away  the 
dishes,  they  managed  to  turn  over 
the  cabinet  and  broke  every  dish  in 
the  house.  That  evening  they  met  me. 
They  both- started  talking  at  once  each 
saying  how  sorry  he  was  and  that  it 
was  his  fault.  Each  was  holding  out 
to  me  his  prize  possession.  Jerry's 
teddy  bear,  with  a  fresh  ribbon  around 
his  neck.  And  Mike's  little  handful 
of  Mexican  coins  his  father  had  given 
him.  I  took  them  in  my  arms,  and  felt 
as  if  I  were  the  richest,  most  blessed 
woman  in  the  world. 

J.  M. 

MOST    PRECIOUS    YEARS 

Dear  Papa  David: 

When  my  four  children  were  small  I 
sometimes  felt  their  responsibility  and 
the  countless  household  duties  a  heavy 
burden. 

I  had  at  this  time  to  take  our  oldest 
child  to  a  specialist  in  Minneapolis.  On 
the  way  home  we  sat  up  all  night  and 
shared  our  seat  with   a  young  priest. 

We  visited  about  little  things  and 
then  talked  of  life.  I  said  that  I  thought 
high  school  days  particularly  were  the 
happiest  days. 

He  answered,  "It  depends  on  what 
you  mean  by  being  happy.  I'd  think 
right  now  while  you're  being  useful, 
your  life  would  be  at  its  happiest." 

With  sudden  clarity  I  saw  my  sense- 
less immaturity.  I  saw  how  useful  and 
blessed  I  was,  because  four  joyous  lives 
were  entrusted  to  me;  I  was  shaping 
their  ideals.  These,  I  have  remembered 
ever  since,  are  the  precious,  beautiful 
years. 

A.  H. 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby 
and  Don  Becker,  is  heard  Monday  through 
Friday  on  NBC  stations  at  12  noon,PDT; 
1  P.M.,  MDT;  2  P.M.,    CDT;  3  P.M.,  EDT. 


You  can  say  "yes 
to  Romance 


55 


/ 


fteto  says  ttnow 
to  Offending! 


Veto  says  "no"  —  to  perspiration  worry  and  odor! 

Soft  as  a  caress  .  .  .  exciting  .  .  .  new — Veto  is 
Colgate's  wonderful  cosmetic  deodorant.  Always  creamy, 
always  smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you  lovely  all  day! 
Veto  stops  underarm  odor  instantly  .  .  .  checks  perspiration 
effectively.  And  Veto  lasts  and  lasts — from  bath  to  bath! 
You  feel  confident  .  .  .  sure  of  exquisite  daintiness. 

Veto  says  »now-  to  harming  skin  and  clothes! 

So  effective  ...  yet  so  gentle — Colgate's  lovely, 
new  cosmetic  deodorant,  Veto,  is  harmless  to  any  normal  skin. 
Harmless,  too,  even  to  your  filmiest,  most  fragile  fabrics. 

For  Veto  alone  contains  Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredient 
to  make  Veto  safer.  No  other  deodorant  can  be  like  Veto! 
So  trust  always  to  Veto — if  you  value  your  charm! 

Trust  always  to  Veto  if  you  value  your  charm! 


By   DUKE  ELLINGTON 


*  Ilene    Woods,    of    Jack    Carson's    show,    is  ' 

the    singing    "Cinderella"    of    Disney's    film. 

Both   Crosbys   started   in  the  Bel   Air  tour- 
nament, but  only  Bob  was  in  at  the  finish. 


10 


Duke  Ellington's  interview  with   Charlie  Spivak  was 
heard    on    CKLW,    WHAM,    XLX,    among     others. 


T  the  start  of  the  annual  golf  tournament  staged  by 
the  swank  Bel  Air  Country  Club  in  Hollywood  it  was 
Bing  Crosby  who  attracted  most  of  the  cameras  and 
the  gallery — but  a  few  days  later  it  was  brother  Bob 
Crosby  who  played  against  Randolph  Scott  for  the  cham- 
pionship. Bob  is  ranked  by  many  experts  as  one  of  the 
top  amateur  golfers  in  the  country. 

*  *         * 

Johnny  Long's  latest  Signature  disc,  "Poor  Butterfly," 
looks  like  another  hit  in  the  long-chain  of  best-sellers  for 
the  left-handed  bandleader.  Fact  is  it's  doing  so  well 
that  Johnny's  1941  discing  of  that  same  song  for  another 
company  was  re-released.  Imagine — competing  with 
yourself  on  two  different  record  labels! 

*  *         * 

That  Anita  Gordon-Ray  Noble  platter  of  "It's  A 
Most  Unusual  Day"  has  started  Columbia  executives 
thinking  more  seriously  of  their  little  starlet.  Anita,  by 
the  way,  was  the  cute  and  unbilled  voice  on  the  Buddy 
Clark  records  of  "Linda"  and  "I'll  Dance  At  Your 
Wedding." 

w  *  * 

You  should  be  seeing  a  super-fine  Jimmy  Dorsey  band 
in  the  Monogram  film  tentatively  titled  "Manhattan  Folk 
Song."  Those  of  us  who've  heard  JD's  new  group  think 
it's  the  best  he's  ever  had  and  pretty  much  the  best  any- 
one could  have.  Many  a  band  leader  drools  at  the  thought 


Andy  Russell,  building  up  a  background  for  his  title  role  in  a  new  "Cisco  Kid"  movie  soon  to 
be  filmed,  made  friends  with  a  burro.   Joan  Davis  and  Mrs.  Russell  smoothed  the  occasion  along. 


of  Jimmy  having  corralled  such  stars  as  Ray  Bauduc, 
Nappy  Lamare,  Arnold  Ross,  Joe  Mondragon,  Art  Lyons, 
Al  Pelligrini  and  Art  Rando. 

*  *         * 

RKO  Radio  has  purchased  the  screen  rights  to  "Na- 
ture Boy,"  and  will  feature  it  in  "The  Boy  With  Green 
Hair."  Pat  O'Brien,  Robert  Ryan,  Barbara  Hale  and  Dean 
Stockwell  star  in  the  film. 

*  #         * 

The  High  School  Fellowship  Club  of  Philadelphia  pre- 
sented a  citation  to  Benny  Goodman  for  his  leadership  in 

breaking  down  racial  discrimination  in  music. 

*  *         * 

Dick  Haymes  bought  "The  Big  Sky,"  to  produce  in- 
dependently as  a  musical  movie.  Dick  may  forsake  the 
Cinema  City  this  Fall  to  star  in  Gordon  Jenkins'  Broad- 
way musical,  "Manhattan  Towers." 

*  *         * 

In  the  few  months  jazz  pianist  George  Shearing  has  been 
in  this  country  (he's  English),  he's  appeared  on  the  Paul 
Whiteman  Show,  won  the  Arthur  Godfrey  Talent  Scouts 
audition  program,  won  raves  at  the  Onyx  Club  and  the 
Three  Deuces.  Not  bad  at  all — he's  only  28  years  old  and 
completely  blind. 


Andy  Russell  will  play  the  title  role  in  "Cisco  Kid' 
Inter-American  Studios. 


Bj  ?%i' 

SL  ■<»  Jg|p^ 

^ 

•v-v 

W^'^ti 

[vi" 

D       '*.*•*  i^B 

~"~**'  -m 

r§l 

f^^^k 

iX 

11? v  : .       i 

for 


Star  Jo  Stafford  and  arranger  Paul  Weston  re- 
hearse with  one  of  the  NBC  Supper  Club's  last 
— and  best — guests  of  the  season:  Nat  "King"  Cole. 


11 


&    smile  wins 


leading  role  in  Little  Theater  play— 

The  smile  that  wins 
is  the  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


Patricia  Wolcott,  Young  Matron,  made  Little 
Theater  history  in  Scarsdale,  N.  Y.,  recently 
when  she  was  awarded  the  leading  role  in  the 
Fort  Hill  Players'  production,  "Years  Ago."  A 
newcomer  to  the  amateur  stage,  she  stole  the 
show  during  tryouts  for  the  part  of  the  beautiful 
heroine.  But  Patricia's  favorite  role  is  wife  and 
mother.  And  her  smile,  so  dazzling  behind  the 
footlights,  sparkles  in  this  real-life  role,  too. 
It's  a  Pepsodent  Smile!  "I've  always  depended 
on  Pepsodent  Tooth  Paste  to  keep  my  teeth 
bright,"  she  says.  "Besides,  I  love  its  taste!" 


Wins  3  to  1 


over  any  other  tooth  paste! 


Like  Patricia  Wolcott,  people  all  over 
America  prefer  New  Pepsodent  with  Irium 
for  brighter  smiles.  Families  from  coast 
to  coast  recently  compared  delicious  New 
Pepsodent  with  the  tooth  paste  they  were 
using  at  home.  By  an  average  of  3  to  1, 
they  said  New  Pepsodent  tastes  better, 
makes  breath  cleaner  and  teeth  brighter 
than  any  other  tooth  paste  they  tried!  For 
the  safety  of  your  smile  use  Pepsodent  twice 
a  day  — see  your  dentist  twice  a  year! 


ANOTHER  FINE 
LEVER  BRO.HERS  PRODUCT 


Facing  the  Music 


Aohnnu    II VU 


ercer 


12 


Anything  that  can  be  done  with 
a  song,  the  Savannah  boy  can  do. 


DID  you  know,  statistically  speaking 
that  Johnny  Mercer  has  composed 
more  than  500  songs,  has  had  more 
than  250  of  them  published  and  has 
scored  hits  with  nearly  60?  Among 
the  hits  of  course,  was  his  Acad- 
emy Award-winning  set  of  lyrics  for 
"Atchison,  Topeka  &  Santa  Fe." 

Born  at  Savannah,  Georgia,  in  No- 
vember of  1909,  Johnny  wrote  his  first 
song,  "Sister  Susie  Strut  Your  Stuff," 
when  he  was  only  15.  A  little  while 
later,  deciding  to  be  an  actor  instead 
of  a  tunesmith,  Johnny  applied  for  an 
audition  for  the  Theater  Guild's  Gar- 
rick  Gaieties,  but  ended  up  writing  a 
song  entitled,  "Out  Of  Breath  And 
Scared  To  Death  Of  You."  That  song 
served  a  triple  purpose.  It  was  sung 
by  a  lad  named  Sterling  Holloway  and 
proved  to  be  a  fair  success;  it  intro- 
duced Johnny  to  Ginger  Meehan  of  the 
show's  dancing  cast,  whom  he  married 
a  year  later;  and  it  made  Johnny  de- 
cide to  concentrate  on  song  writing. 

Then  he  became  a  singer  for  "Pops" 
Whiteman,  and  began  to  write  more 
and  more  songs  like  "Here  Come  The 
British  With  a  Bang  Bang"  and  "Goody 
Goody."  Whiteman  also  introduced 
Johnny  to  Hoagy  Carmichael.  That 
meeting  resulted  in  a  smash  hit  known 
as  "Lazybones."  Johnny  joined  Ben- 
ny Goodman's  Camel  Caravan  and  was 
soon  called  to  Hollywood  as  a  writer 
of  songs  for  the  films.  Among  the  list 
of  hits  to  his  credit  are  "Blues  In  The 
Night,"  "That  Old  Black  Magic,"  "Tan- 
gerine," "Ac-cen-tchu-ate  The  Posi- 
tive," "Dream,"  "Skylark,"  "GI  Jive," 
and  "I'm  An  Old  Cowhand." 

Johnny's  writing  methods  vary,  but 
he  invariably  gets  amazing  results. 
Usually,  he  says,  a  title  or  a  simple 
idea  comes  first,  and  then  the  rest  of 
the  words  fall  into  place.  When  he 
does  both  tune  and  lyrics,  he  writes  a 
few  words,  pounds  out  melody  with  one 
finger  and  then  finishes  the  words.  His 
hunt-and-peck  pianistics  haven't  af- 
fected his  ability  to  discover  talent  for 
Capitol  records.  Johnny  had  a  major 
part  in  the  discovery  of  the  King  Cole 
Trio,  Hal  Derwin,  Peggy  Lee,  Jo  Staf- 
ford and  Margaret  Whiting. 

At  home,  Johnny  concentrates  on  the 
fatherly  talent  of  enjoying  himself  with 
his  wife  and  two  children,  young  John 
and  Amanda,  who  was  the  inspiration 
for  the  song  "Mandy  Is  Two,"  which 
her  dad  wrote  for  her  second  birthday. 


Harry  Horlick's  MGM 
album  of  American 
Waltzes  has  the  answers. 


HERE'S  your  opportunity  to  win 
one  of  twenty-five  big  prizes. 
All  you  have  to  do  is  take  the 
clues  given  in  these  questions  and 
pair  them  with  your  knowledge 
of  American  waltzes.  You  can  win 
a  Zenette  Radio,  MGM  Record 
albums,  and  movie  passes  to  your 
local  Loew's  Theater.  Below  are 
eight  musical  charades.  The  an- 
swers you  get  should  be  titles  of 
the  records  in  the  new  MGM  al- 
bum, Harry  Horlick's  American 
Waltzes.  Guess  the  titles  and 
send  them  to  Facing  The  Music 
along  with  your  reaction  to  the 
American  Waltz  Album  in  twen- 
ty-six words  or  less. 

To  make  it  really  simple,  you 
need  only  go  to  your  nearest 
record  shop,  get  the  album  and 
pair  the  titles  with  the  charades. 


\    -&    f 


1 )  What  would  you  think  a.  certain 
piano-playing  President's  favorite  waltz 
might   be? 

2)  If  you  were  a  Buckeye,  you'd  prob- 
ably waltz  to  this  tune. 

3)  If  you  had  a  dream  girl,  when 
would   you   see   her? 

4)  They  say  that  love  is  blind,  but  if 
you've  been  in  love,  you'd  think  your 
sweetheart  was   pretty   nice  too. 

5)  We  don't  believe  it,  but  they  say 
there  are  some  things  people  are  too 
old   to  do. 

6)  If  you  head  West  at  the  right  time 
of  the  year,  you'll  know  exactly  what  this 
tune  is. 

7)  If  you'd  like  to  rid  yourself  of 
someone,  you  won't  mind  singing  this. 
If    you're    in    love,    that's    another    story. 

8)  This  is  a  popular  tune  most  of  us 
know  real  well,  but  it's  nothing  you'd 
sing  to  just  anyone  at  all.  Sticks  and 
stones  may  break  people's  bones,  but 
this     name     would     never     hurt     anyone. 


Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


Should  the  lady  be  seated  — 

□  Opposite  the  other  girl 

□  At  her  left 
D   At  her  right 

If  you're  ever  bedevilled  by  this  doubt  .  .  .- 
listen.  Table  etiquette  decrees  that  ladies 
be  seated  opposite  each  other.  Knowing 
for  ^certain  will  de-panic   you,   next  time. 


Same  as  knowing  (at  certain  times)  that 
with  Kotex  you're  safe  from  tell-tale  out- 
lines. Never  a  panicky  moment,  thanks  to 
those  special  fiat  pressed  ends.  Yes  .  .  .  for 
confidence,  you  can  trust  Kotex.  No  doubt 
about  it!  And  there's  no  binding  when  you 
bend  in  that  new  Kotex  Sanitary  Belt  .  .  . 
adjustable,  smooth-fitting,  all-elastic.  All  for 
your  greater  comfort! 


What's  a  jilted  jane  to  do? 

□  Let  his  memory  linger  on 

□  Pursue  him  by  mail 

□  Get  herself  a  hobby 

If  last  summer's  knight  beams  at  someone 
else  this  season  — no  use  toting  the  torch. 
Now  is  the  hour  to  get  yourself  a  hohby. 
Something  fun  and  worthwhile  — that  keeps 
your  brain,  or  hands,  or  tootsies  (why  not 
learn  to  tap  dance?)  active.  Fight  off 
"calendar"  blues,  too,  with  the  self-assur- 
ance Kotex  brings.  You  see,  there's  extra 
protection  in  that  exclusive  safety  center  of 
Kotex:  a  feature  you'll  find  in  all  3  Kotex 
sizes.  Regular,  Junior  or  Super  helps  pre- 
serve your  peace  of  mind! 


In  business,  must  she  begin  with  — 

□  Good  follow-through 

□  All  the  answers 

□  A  promising  career 

Your  first  job  — and  you're  all  a-jitter? 
The  boss  won't  expect  you  to  be  a  quiz 
kid.  But  he  does  demand  dependability. 
Don't  be  a  promiser.  Finish  what  you  start. 
Good  follow-through  is  a  business  must. 
And  don't  try  the  vacant  chair  routine  on 
"those"  days.  No  excuse,  with  the  new, 
softer  Kotex!  For  dependable  is  definitely  the 
word  for  such  miracle-softness  that  holds 
its  shape.  You  can  stay  on  the  job  in  com- 
fort, because  Kotex  is  made  to  stay  soft 
while  you  wear  it. 


More  women  c/?oose  KOTEX 
Man  a//  of/?er  san/fary  na/?hhs 


BT.  N.  REG.  U.  S.  PAT.  OFF. 


13 


Pat  O'Brien  found  Keeping  Up  With  Kids  too  difficult;  his  son  beat  him  in  the  parent- 
vs.-child  quiz  of  which  Benay  Venuta  is  m.c.   (Mutual,  Saturdays  at  9:00  P.M.,  EDT.) 


By 

DALE 
BANKS 


14 


Ronald   Colman's  Favorite  Story  transcribes 
great     literature;      schools     are     interested. 


WHAT'S  NEW 


HE  Federal  Communications   Commission   reports   almost 
one  hundred   withdrawn   bids  and   cancelled   permits   for 
AM  and  FM  stations  in  the  past  five  months.     Uncertain 
economic  conditions  and,  maybe,  commercial  interest  in  tele- 
vision, are  believed  responsible. 

*  *         * 

Out  Hollywood  way  the  radio-wise  are  convinced  that  much 
of  the  summer  buying  of  radio  shows  was  done  with  an  eye  to 
signing  the  shows  to  Fall  contracts.  More  than  half  the  shows 
lined  up  as  "summer  replacements"  are  expected  to  go  their 
merry,  low-budget  way  into  1949. 

*  *         * 

It's  not  beyond  the  realm  of  possibility  that  Henry  Morgan 
and  Fred  Allen  may  co-star  in  a  movie.  Morgan  has  made 
two  guest  appearances  on  the  Allen  program  and  the  critics 

put  on  such  raves  that  Hollywood  perked  up  its  ears. 

*  *         * 

Kate  Smith  is  an  Honorary  Member  of  the  Army  Nurse 
Corps.  She's  Colonel  Kate  Smith,  now,  the  rank  having  been 
bestowed  on  her  in  recognition  of  her  wartime  contributions 
to  patients  in  Army  hospitals  and  her  support  of  the  Army's 
campaign  to  have  young  girls  take  up  nursing  as  a  career.  It's 
not  such  a  far-fetched  thing,  either,  considering  that  Kate 
was  a  student  nurse  at  the  George  Washington  University 

Hospital  before  she  became  a  singer. 

*  *         * 

This  new  Mutual  show,  Three  For  the  Money,  just  about 
tops  everything  in  the  matter  of  giving  away  that  lovely  green 
stuff.  If  the  jackpot  isn't  won  before  the  end  of  the  year,  it 
will  have  accumulated  some   $50,000   for   some   extra-lucky 

radio  fan. 

*  *         * 

Rise  Stevens  will  not  be  back  on  the  Prudential  Hour  show 
in  the  Fall.  It  is  rumored  that  the  glamorous  songstress  re- 
fused to  take  a  cut  in  salary. 

That  Ronald  Colman  Favorite  Story  program  is  now  avail- 
able to  the  public  school  system  in  New  York.  Schools  are 
taking  advantage  of  the  fact  that  the  world's  great  literature, 
vividly  dramatized,  is  accessible  to  them  for  study  purposes, 
via  transcriptions.  It's  a  good  idea  and  maybe  some  other 
schools,  outside  New  York,  might  like  to  avail  themselves  of 
this  opportunity. 


Una  Merkel  is  Hal  Peary's  new  Gildersleeve  girl 
friend;    the    Judge    (Earle   Ross,   1.)    is    jealous. 


Penny  Singleton  and  Arthur  Lake  may  do  a 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bumstead  series  on  television. 


IFEdDM    (CdDASTT  to  (CdMSTT 


Recently,  Bill  Lawrence,  director  of  the  Screen  Guild 
Players  show,  held  a  "worst  broadcast"  party  at  his  home. 
He  featured  recordings  of  various  shows  on  which  classic 
and  hilarious  fluffs  were  made.  He's  been  collecting  such 
records  for  years. 

$  $  4 

Another  unique,  "collector's  item"  recording  was  made 
right  after  the  last  broadcast  of  the  season  by  the  cast  of  My 
Friend  Irma.  Cathy  Lewis  and  Marie  Wilson  did  a  recording, 
for  producer  Cy  Howard  and  the  cast  only,  in  which  they  did 
a  screaming  burlesque  of  the  regular  program. 

*  *         * 

Eddie  Anderson Rochester  will  probably  identify  him 

better  to  you — was  originally  signed  by  Jack  Benny  for  a  one- 
shot  appearance.  This  year,  the  gravel-voiced  comedian 
celebrated  his  eleventh  anniversary  as  a  mainstay  of  the 
Benny  program.  Remarkable,  considering  that  Rochester,  as 
a  character,  has  never  bowed  before  the  convention  of  the 
stereotype  Negro  in  radio. 

a  *  * 

It's  like  father,  like  daughter  in  the  case  of  the  Whitemans. 
Pops  Whiteman's  talented  daughter,  Margo,  has  started  to 
carve  out  a  radio  career  for  herself  with  that  teen  age  talent 
show  called  Tomorrow's  Tops.  In  fact,  Margo  almost  seemed 
to  be  shoving  Pops  over,  since  her  show  took  over  the  Mon- 
day evening  spot  of  On  Stage,  America,  which  was  one  of 
Paul's  babies. 

$  $  $ 

This  is  a  big  year  for  Bobby  Ellis,  talented  radio  juvenile 
actor  in  Hollywood.  Soon  after  being  selected  to  play  Babe 
Ruth  as  a  youngster  in  the  nickers,  Bobby  was  asked  to  do 
a  disc  jockey  series  for  teen-agers  and  to  m.c.  a  televised 
quiz  show  with  bright  children  of  leading  movie  stars  in 
the  regular  panel. 

*  *         * 

You  know  Una  Merkel  as  a  comedienne  on  stage,  screen 
and  radio.  But  Una  got  her  start  as  a  tragedy  queen  when 
she  first  arrived  in  New  York  to  make  a  break  for  herself  in 
show  business.  Parts  weren't  too  easy  to  get,  so  Una  helped 
herself  along  by  being  a  photographer's  model,  most  of  her 
jobs  being  to  pose  for  illustrations  for  confession  magazine 
stories.     "I    had    long    hair,"    she    (Continued    on    page    17) 


Eddie  Anderson,  signed  for  one  show  by- 
Jack  Benny,  is  now  in  his  eleventh  year. 


After  a  too-long  absence,  Helen  Hayes  is  back 
in   radio   in    the   new    dramatic    Electric    Hour. 


15 


T 


Richard  Karp  is  a  leading  musical 
figure  at  KDKA  and  throughout  the 
Pittsburgh  area.  At  KDKA's  studios 
he  goes  over  production  problems 
with  Vickey  Corey,  Grace  Hirt  and 
Franklin  A.  Tooke,  Program  Director. 


II 

■ 

16 


KDKA's  Richard  Karp  is  a  musician  of  engaging 
personality  and  all-around  ability  who  is  contribut- 
ing much  to  advancing  the  cause  of  music  in  the 
Pittsburgh  district. 

He  was  born  in  Vienna  in  1902.  His  mother,  a  concert 
pianist,  won  the  gold  state  medal  of  the  Vienna  Con- 
servatory at  17,  and  his  grandfather,  a  newspaper 
editor,  was  prominent  as  a  tenor. 

Mr.  Karp  studied  violin,  viola  composition  and  con- 
ducting in  Vienna  and  Dresden  and  graduated  with 
honor  from  the  Dresden  Conservatory.  At  18,  he  con- 
ducted a  stock  opera  company  and  later  became  musical 
and  state  assistant  at  the  Dresden  State  Opera. 

His  success  as  a  conductor  won  him  the  post  of  con- 
ductor of  the  Dresden  Philharmonic  Orchestra,  in  1923, 
as  well  as  that  of  musical  director  of  the  Dalcroze 
Festival  in  Hellerau  where  he  led  the  Dresden  State 
Orchestra  in  the  "Midsummer  Night's  Dream"  per- 
formances. 

From  September,  1925,  until  1932,  Mr.  Karp  was 
associated  with  the  Dusseldorf  Opera,  and  during  1931 
he  also  guest-conducted  the  Philharmonic  Orchestra 
concert  in  Bonn.    The  following  year  he  was  appointed 


general  music  director  of  Bonn's  Municipal  Symphony 
and  Opera.  In  1933  he  went  to  Prague  as  conductor  of 
the  Prague  Symphony  Orchestra. 

Mr.  Karp  came  to  the  United  States  in  1937  and  was 
first  introduced  to  the  American  music  world  in  1938 
when  he  went  on  a  transcontinental  tour  with  the 
Canadian  Hart  House  String  Quartet.  Late  the  same 
year  he  went  to  Pittsburgh  to  become  a  member  of  the 
Pittsburgh  Symphony. 

He  joined  the  Pittsburgh  Opera  Society  in  May,  1941, 
as  stage  director  and  assistant  musical  director.  When 
Vladimir  Bakaleinikoff  resigned  as  musical  director  in 
March,  1942,  Mr.  Karp  became  his  successor.  Retaining 
the  direction  of  the  Pittsburgh  Opera,  Mr.  Karp  joined 
the  staff  at  KDKA  in  1944  as  producer  and  musical 
adviser. 

Use  Karp,  his  wife  is  a  well-trained  musician  in  her 
own  right,  having  graduated  from  the  Berlin  Music 
Hochschule.   She  teaches  piano,  clarinet  and  theory. 

In  addition  to  his  many  duties  both  at  KDKA  and 
with  the  Pittsburgh  Opera,  Mr.  Karp  also  finds  time  each 
summer  to  conduct  the  Adirondack  Symphony  Orchestra 
at  Saranac  Lake  and  at  Lake  Placid. 


WHAT'S   NEW    from 

COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page  15) 

relates,  "and  was  always  pictured  as 
the  ruined  woman  in  every  story." 
Which  shows  you  what  kind  of  type 
casting  they  do  for  photographs. 

You'll  be  hearing  two  of  Hollywood's 
top  comediennes,  Elvia  Allman  and 
Bea  Benadaret,  costarring  in  a  new  sit- 
uation   comedy    show,    "The    Simpson 

Twins,"  come  the  cool  weather. 

*  *         * 

Penny  Singleton  and  Arthur  Lake 
are  wanted  for  a  West  Coast  television 
series  which,  if  rights  can  be  cleared 
and  negotiations  jell,  will  be  called  "Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bumstead,"  and  find  them  dis- 
cussing in  good  Mr.  and  Mrs.  fashion 
such  humorous  items  as  they  find  in  the 
day's  news. 

*  *         * 

On  the  fall  agenda  for  Vox  Pop  is 
a  tour  around  the  world,  with  programs 
to  originate  from  the  sites  of  the  Seven 
Wonders  of  the  World — not  the  Seven 
Wonders  of  Antiquity,  but  the  Middle 
Ages — including  the  Coliseum  at  Rome, 
the  Great  Wall  of  China,  Leaning  Tow- 
er of  Pisa,  Catacombs  of  Alexandria, 
Druidical  Temple  at  Stonehenge,  Eng- 
land, Mosque  Tower  at  St.  Sophia  in 
Constantinople  and  the  Octagon  Pago- 
da of  Nanking. 

*  *         * 

In  a  dog-eat-dog  business  like  the 
band  business,  it's  always  nice  to  come 
across  a  story  of  real  friendship.  One 
of  the  longest  and  closest  friendships 
in  the  music  fields  is  that  between  Guy 
Lombardo  and  Tommy  Dorsey.  They 
even  carry  it  to  the  lengths  of  sharing 
the  same  office  in  New  York.  Latest 
data  on  this  Damon  and  Pythias  rou- 
tine is  that  Tommy  Dorsey  asked  the 
Music  Corporation  of  America  to  get 
his  band  a  booking  in  Detroit  for  the 
Labor  Day  weekend.  The  reason — Guy 
will  be  there  racing  for  the  Gold  Cup 
and  Tommy  doesn't  want  to  miss  see- 
ing that. 

*  *         * 

In  July  Radio  Mirror's  story  on 
Twenty  Questions,  Ruby  Sheppard's 
picture  was  accidentally  omitted.  It's 
Ruby  who,  by  holding  up  a  silent  plac- 
ard, lets  the  studio  audience  in  on  the 
words  that  the  Twenty  Questions 
players  are  trying  to  guess.    We  hasten 

to  repair  our  error:  see  picture  below. 

*  *         * 

A  new  Hollywood  television  firm 
headed  by  Joseph  Cotten,  movie  star, 
has  finished  the  first  in  a  series  of 
fifteen-minute   (Continued  on  page  19) 


Ruby     Sheppard:      important 
to  Twenty  Questions  audience. 


FOR  YOU. ..FOR  ROMANCE... 


&-7%#$> 


LIZABETH  SCOTT 

Starring  in 

"PITFALL" 

a  United  Artists  Release 


Try  Lizabeth  Scott's  DEEP-CLEANSE  FACIALS 


Cuddly  armful!  Early  play  hour  — and 
Lizabeth's  skin  is  a-sparkle!  "A  quick 
Deep-Cleanse  with  Woodbury  rouses 
my  skin . .  .brings  a  beauty-fresh  glow!" 


"You're  lovelier— in  seconds," 
promises  Lizabeth.  "Smooth  on 
Woodbury  Cold  Cream  ...  its  rich 
oils  cleanse  deep.  Tissue,  and  film  on 
more  Woodbury— four  special 
softening  ingredients  smooth 
dryness !  Tissue  again— add  a  cold 
water  splash  for  rosy  color.  See,  your 
skin  glows  clear-clean,  silky- 
soft  .  .  .  Woodbury- wonderful  1" 


Woodbury 

cleanses-smooW 

Cold  Cream 


•v 


ufaW 


Delightful  eyefiil!  .  .  .  makes  you  Stop, 
and— LOOK  I  "Film  day  done,"  says 
Lizabeth,  "I  date  Woodbury  —  rich  and 
smoothing.  Leaves  skin  simply  velvet  1" 


17 


A  pet  show  can  be  serious  business  when  it  is  tied  up  with  Uncle  Jim's  work  as  visual  educator  for  the  Pennsylvania  SPCA. 


WIBG's  Uncle  Jim  has  more  nieces 
and    nephews   than   he    can    count. 


18 


UNCLE  TO  over  50,000  children  in  five  years.  That's 
the  story  of  Uncle  Jim  Willard  of  WIBG  in 
Philadelphia. 

Back  in  1943,  Snellenburg's  Philadelphia  department 
store  decided  to  sponsor  Uncle  Jim  Willard  who  has 
been  a  conductor  of  children's  radio  programs,  for  23 
years.  They  then  had  a  combined  membership  of  2185 
children  registered  in  their  Superman  Tim  Club  for 
boys,  and  their  Joan  and  Ginger  Club  for  girls. 

Today,  there  are  28,770  boys  registered  in  the  Super- 
man Tim  Club  and  23,772  girls  in  the  Joan  and  Ginger 
organization. 

How  did  he  do  it? 

Years  of  radio  experience  have  given  Uncle  Jim  the 
knowledge  that  makes  for  programs  that  appeal  to  chil- 
dren, and  adults  as  well.  His  5:15  to  5:30  P.M.  daily 
program  on  WIBG  includes  a  Stamp  Club  that  fosters 
correspondence  with  youngsters  in  other  countries;  it 
includes  entertainment  by  youthful  performers  of  all 
ages,  as  soloists,  as  well  as  in  groups.  He  fre- 
quently fills  WIBG's  Studio  "A"  with  entire  school 
classes,  with  glee  clubs,  with  juvenile  orchestras  and 
dramatic  units  to  bring  listeners  in  the  Philadelphia  area 
an  idea  of  what  the  younger  generation  is  doing  about 
radio.  Talent  ranges  from  four  to  eighteen  years  of  age, 
and  features  everything  from  recitations  to  performances 
on  the  zither.  There  are  certain  memberships  in  the 
club  which  children  don't  care  to  obtain,  but  into  which 
they're  entered  by  their  parents.  These  are  the  "Thumb 
Suckers'  Union" — the  "Nail  Biters'  Association"  and  the 


"I  Won't  Club."  Enrollment  in  these  groups  invariably 
breaks  the  bad  habit,  and  results  in  disenrollment,  which 
is  the  entire  idea. 

Willard  is  also  a  visual  educator  for  the  Women's 
Pennsylvania  SPCA,  in  which  position  he  visits  many 
schools  throughout  eastern  Pennsylvania,  with  special 
programs.  On  his  visits,  he  often  comes  upon  talent  at 
school  assemblies  which  add  additional  entertainment 
value  to  his  programs. 

His  animal  stories,  both  off  and  on  the  air,  are  re- 
quested by  adult  groups  as  well  as  by  children,  which 
accounts  for  additional  lectures  before  parent-teacher, 
Rotarian  and  other  organizations.  Willard  himself, 
when  asked  his  age,  usually  replies  that  he  was  a  hun- 
dred and  three,  several  years  ago,  but  he  isn't  sure  how 
many.  And  backs  it  up  by  stating  "I'd  have  to  be  at 
least  that  old  to  have  over  50,000  nephews  and  nieces." 
But  regardless  of  age,  he's  spry  as  many  of  the  young- 
sters who  call  him  Uncle.  Three  flights  of  stairs  mean 
nothing  to  him,  and  he  proves  that  by  running  up  the 
stairs  in  the  WIBG  Building,  rather  than  using  the  ele- 
vators. His  nightly  signoff  "Don't  forget  to  wash  your 
face  and  hands,  clean  your  teeth,  and  say  your  prayers" 
has  worked  far  more  than  the  admonitions  of  anxious 
parents  in  many  homes,  and  because  they've  told  him  so, 
it  has  been  in  use  ever  since  the  first  time  he  aired  it, 
almost  20  years  ago. 

His  whole  theory  of  broadcasting  is  summed  up  in 
the  words  "I  never  worry  about  whether  or  not  the 
program  is  good — all  I  ask  is  that  it  do  some  good." 


WHAT'S   NEW   from 

COAST  to  COAST 

(Continued  from  page  17) 

video  shows  on  film  for  a  cost  of  $2,000, 
which  is  claimed  to  be  some  $5,000 
under  the  current  tab. 

This  is  one  for  the  oldsters.  Have  you 
noticed  that  Francis  X.  Bushman,  who 
used  to  send  the  hearts  of  ladies  flut- 
tering back  in  the  days  after  the  first 
World  War,  has  been  appearing  more 
and  more  often  on  radio?  Latest  stint 
we  heard  was  his  playing  a  small  part 
as  a  ship's  captain  on  one  of  the  My 
Friend  Irma  programs. 

*  *         * 

Look  for  Mutual  to  start  grooming 
a  new  singing  star.  Nineteen  year  old 
Delores  Marshall  was  a  typist  in  the 
script  department  of  Mutual's  Chicago 
outlet,  WGN,  until  this  past  Spring, 
when  she  sought  and  won  an  audition 
as  a  singer,  and  so  impressed  execs 
with  her  voice  that  they  promptly  as- 
signed her  to  a  guest  shot  on  a  feature 
called  Voices  of  Strings. 

Did  you  know  that  Rudd  Weather- 
wax  came  into  possession  of  wonder 
dog  Lassie  when  the  former  owner  gave 
her  up  in  lieu  of  paying  a  ten-dollar 
board  bill  for  the  dog? 

*  *         * 

As  if  Elliott  Lewis  weren't  busy 
enough  now,  he's  got  another  prospec- 
tive show  in  the  works.  It's  a  burlesque 
on  radio  "whodunits,"  called  "The  Mis- 
adventures of  Marcus  O'Connor,"  and 
at  this  writing  the  program  is  on  the 
front  burner  with  a  New  York  agency. 
If  the  deal  goes  through,  you'll  be 
hearing  it  this  autumn. 

*  *         * 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  FROM  ALL 
OVER  .  .  .  Professor  Quiz  is  turning 
author  with  a  new  tome  tentatively 
titled  "Ask  Me  Another"  .  .  .  Holly- 
wood expects  ABC  and  the  Samuel 
Goldwyn  studios  to  hold  hands  on 
television  in  the  immediate  future.  .  .  . 
A  new  dramatic  series,  The  Wanderer, 
starring  Alfred  Drake,  is  due  to  hit  the 
airlines  soon.  .  .  .  The  Jack  Smith  show 
will  move  to  the  west  coast  this  fall  to 
give  the  singer  an  opportunity  to  do 
film  work.  .  .  .  Helen  Hayes  returning 
to  radio,  after  a  long  absence,  in  a  new 
dramatic  series  now  titled  Electric 
Theater.  .  .  .  Any  radio  work  for  come- 
dienne Cass  Daley  will  have  to  wait 
until  next  year,  since  she's  expecting 
the  stork  in  November.  .  .  .  Can  You 
Top  This  will  probably  not  return  to 
the  air  this  year.  .  .  .  John  Brown 
signed  to  play  his  Digger  O'Dell  role 
in  the  film  version  of  "Life  of  Riley." 
.  .  .  New  contracts  have  been  handed 
The  Beulah  Show,  Judy  Canova. 


Familiar?  It  should 
be:  it's  Francis  X. 
Bushman,  idol  of 
"silents,"  now  busy 
in  West  Coast  radio. 


eft  8  o'clock  m  tfie>  mcrnlntf  f 


7.  "Here's  how  I  manage  those  desk-to- 
dancing  dates,"  says  this  smart  career  girl. 
"I  wear  a  bright  cotton  suit  and  dark  tai- 
lored blouse  to  the  office.  And,  of  course, 
I  rely  on  new,  even  gentler,  even  more 
effective  Odorono  Cream.  Because  I  knoiv 
it  protects  me  from  perspiration  and  offensive 
odor  a  full  24  hours." 

You'll  find  new  Odorono  so  safe  you 
can  use  it  right  after  shaving!  So  harmless 
to  fine  fabrics  .  .  .  protects  clothes  from 
stains  and  rotting!  And  Odorono  stays  so 
creamy -smooth  too  . . .  even  if  you  leave 
the  cap  off  for  weeks! 


2,  "When  date  time  comes  I  change  to  a 
light  peasant  blouse,  tie  on  a  big  dark  sash, 
and  I'm  set  for  an  evening  of  fun.  I'm 
confident  of  my  charm  all  evening  too — 
thanks  to  new  Odorono  Cream.  Because 
the  HaJgene  in  Odorono  gives  more  effective 
protection  than  any  deodorant  known  " 

New  Odorono  Cream  brings  you  an  im- 
proved new  formula  . . .  even  gentler,  even 
more  effective  than  ever  before  ...  all 
done  up  in  its  pretty,  bright  new  package. 
Buy  some  today  and  see  if  you  don't  find 
this  the  most  completely  satisfying  deodor- 
ant you  have  ever  used. 


sfbfas  persptrofom  o>ncl 
o<kr  a  fcuJPe  3A  ftours! 


(Now  in  n>'ir  251  and  50i  sizes,  plus  tax.) 


19 


Joe  Wesp  once  toured  northern  New  York  in  a   stagecoach,  for 
fun.      His    tour    of    Poland    was    strictly    for    serious    reporting. 


w 


20 


ELL,  this  is  great  stuff,"  said  Joe  Wesp.  "I've  in- 
terviewed the  big  ones  and  the  little  ones — in 
Europe  and  America — but  this  is  one  of  the  few 
times  anyone  has  ever  interviewed  me.  I  like  it.  It  gives 
me  an  excuse  to  talk  about  myself." 

All  of  which  is  ironic  of  the  Ironic  Reporter  because 
from  this  point  on  it  took  an  elephantine  amount  of 
wheedling,  cajoling  and  coercing  to  bring  forth  salient 
facts  about  Joe  Wesp.  For  seventeen  years  now  Joe 
Wesp  has  been  a  nightly  feature  on  WBEN  and  he  has 
been  sponsored  all  that  time,  with  the  exception  of  a 
brief  few  months.  It's  something  of  a  local — if  not  a 
national — record.  The  present  sage  of  Buffalo's  subur- 
ban Clarence  was  born  Milford  Wesp,  in  Buffalo,  spent 
his  boyhood  in  nearby  Hamburg  but  came  back  to 
Buffalo  at  the  age  of  17  to  get  a  job  as  copy  boy  at 
The  Buffalo  Evening  News. 

He  held  this  position  long  enough  to  learn  to  type, 
whereupon  he  walked  across  the  street  and  told  the  city 
editor  of  the  now-extinct  Buffalo  Times  that  he  was  a 
reporter.  He  became  one  immediately — the  young- 
est reporter  in  Buffalo. 

At  that  time  he  was  fresh  from  the  farm  and  admits 
it.  "Why,  I  didn't  even  have  the  hay  out  of  my  socks 
yet.  We  didn't  get  to  town  very  often.  When  I  got  the 
job  I  didn't  even  know  where  City  Hall  was."  On  his 
18th  birthday,  he  enlisted  in  the  Army  in  World  War  I. 
Mustered  out  a  drill  sergeant,  Joe  plunged  into  news- 
papering  again.  His  list  of  alma  maters  included  the 
Buffalo  papers  mentioned  and  three  others.  He  was 
managing  editor  of  the  Syracuse  American  at  23  and  one 
time  night  art  editor  of  the  Boston  Advertiser. 

While  Joe  Wesp  obviously  majored  in  newspaper 
work  he  at  least  minored  in  radio  work,  creeping  in 
when  no  one  was  looking,  so  to  speak,  in  1930.  This  was 
because  he  had  an  incurable  desire  to  talk  to  people 
without  giving  them  a  chance  to  talk  back. 

"At  that  time,"  he  explains,  "newscasters  were  talk- 
ing as  sweet  as  sugar.  I  got  sick  of  honeyed  news 
reports,  so  I  tried  a  new  angle.  I  went  out  on  a  limb — 
analyzing  and  predicting.  But  now  I've  had  to  change 
all  that.  People  are  worried  all  day  long  by  the  serious 
trend  of  news  events  so  I  give  them  the  funny  side." 

The  robust  reporter  checks  several  papers  daily  for 


items  on  which  to  comment — can  spend  all  day  batting 
out  a  script  or  can  do  it  in  half  an  hour,  as  he  did  once. 

Among  his  most  memorable  newspaper  experiences 
were  his  tour  of  Poland  in  1929  and  his  horse-and-buggy 
trip  through  Western  New  York  in  1933.  He  traveled 
the  length  and  breadth  of  Poland  and  wrote  50  daily 
articles  for  The  Buffalo  Evening  News.  His  work  won 
him  the  Golden  Cross  of  Merit  from  the  Polish  Govern- 
ment. He  wrote  daily  articles  for  The  Buffalo  Evening 
News  about  his  horse-and-buggy  trip  and  also  about 
his  tour  of  the  country  around  Buffalo  in  a  stagecoach. 

Joe  can't  understand  how  his  mother  came  to  name 
him  Milford  but  during  his  Syracuse  newspaper  days,  he 
roomed  with  three  other  reporters  and  all  four  called 
each  other  "Joe."    The  name  stuck  to  Wesp. 

His  hobbies  are  hunting  and  fishing  with  his  wife, 
who's  a  swell  sport,  according  to  Joe.  The  two  regularly 
spend  vacations  together  at  fishing  spots  in  Canada  or 
New  York  State. 

Joe  Wesp  is  heard  on  WBEN  Mondays  through  Fridays 
for  10  minutes,  starting  at  11:15  P.M. 


WILLIAM  SHIRER 


IN  1925,  immediately  following  his 
graduation  from  Coe  College,  Cedar 
Rapids,  Iowa,  William  Lawrence 
Shirer  shipped  as  a  cattle  boat  crewman 
to  Europe  "just  for  the  summer." 
Twenty  years  pa'ssed  before  he  was 
ready  to  resettle  in  the  United  States. 

Upon  arrival  in  France  in  1925,  he 
joined  the  staff  of  the  Paris  edition  of 
the  Chicago  Tribune,  thus  beginning 
his  career  as  a  journalist.  He  stayed 
with  the  Herald  Tribune  until  1932  as 
European  correspondent,  working  in 
Paris,  London,  Switzerland  and  Vienna, 
and  in  the  Near  East  and  India  as  well. 

Shirer  remembers  two  years  in  India 
with  Gandhi  as  his  greatest  experience. 
He  was  there  to  cover  the  first  great 
"civil  disobedience  movement"  against 
the  British,  and  counts  the  late  Ma- 
hatma  as  one  of  his  most  interesting 
friends. 

In  1934,  Shirer  became  chief  of  the 
Berlin  bureau  of  the  Universal  News 
Service.  At  the  same  time  he  began 
broadcasting  for  network  listeners  in 
the  U.  S.  and  keeping  the  daily  journal 
which  became  the  basis  for  his  best- 
selling  Berlin  Diary  and  End  of  the 
Berlin  Diary.  For  the  next  five  years 
he  wandered  about  Europe  covering 
stories  on  the  preparation  of  the  Nazis 
for  World  War  II. 

Shirer  returned  to  the  United  States 
in  1940  to  assemble  Berlin  Diary.  He 
went  back  to  Europe  on  assignments  in 
1943,  '44,  and  '45.  His  experiences 
as  war  correspondent,  particularly  at 
the  war  guilt  trials  at  Nuremberg,  were 
compiled  from  his  journal  and  pub- 
lished as  End  of  the  Berlin  Diary. 

Although  Shirer  was  commentator 
for  many  war-time  movie  shorts,  Hol- 
lywood will  probably  never  be  able  to 
lure  him  away  from  New  York.  He 
thinks  the  people  in  the  film  industry 
are  "nice  but  a  little  crazy,"  basing  his 
opinion  on  two  weekends  when  he  was 
flown  to  the  film  capital  to  act  as  ad- 
visor on  a  film.  His  total  working  time 
amounted  to  one  and  a  half  hours,  plus 
travel  time  and  sightseeing  time  of 
course,  and  for  this  he  was  paid  $10,000. 
"And  the  film  was  never  produced," 
says  Shirer. 

The  Chicago-born  commentator  is 
married  to  the  former  Theresa.Stiberitz 
of  Vienna.  They  make  their  home  now 
in  New  York  City  with  their  two 
daughters,  Eileen  Inga  and  Linda  Eliza- 
beth. Mr.  Shirer  still  writes  a  syndi- 
cated news  column  in  addition  to  his 
fiction  work.  His  weekly  news  broad- 
cast heard  over  the  Mutual  Network  on 
Sunday  afternoon  gives  him  sufficient 
-frpR  time  for  writing. 


m « v 


"HI,  HAYHEADI"  .  .  .  that  was  the  uncom- 
plimentary way  Don  greeted  me  the  night 
of  the  hayride  party.  Believe  me,  that  was 
the  last  straw!  I  made  up  my  mind  then 
to  do  something  about  my  dull-looking, 
unmanageable  hair. 


HOPEFULLY,  I  consulted  a  leading  hair- 
dresser. After  a  shampoo  with  Lustre- 
Creme,  my  hair  revealed  new  loveliness. 
"It's  not  a  soap,  not  a  liquid,"  he  said, 
"but  a  rich-lathering  cream  shampoo  with 
lanolin.  Use  it  at  home,  too!" 


From  Hayride  to  Honeymoon 
for  a  "LUSTRE  CREME"  Dream  Girl 


Whether  you  prefer  the  TUBE  or  the  JAR, 
you'll    prefer    LUSTRE-CREME   SHAMPOO 


YOU,  TOO  .  .  .  can  have  suit,  glamorous 
"Dream  Girl"  hair  with  magical  Lustre- 
Creme  Shampoo.  Created  by  Kay  Daumit, 
to  glamorize  hair  with  new  3-uay  loveliness: 
1.  Fragrantly  clean,  free  of  loose  dandruff 
2.  Glistening  with  sheen 
3.  Soft,  easy  to  manage 
Lustre-Creme  is  a  blend  of  secret  ingre- 
dients—  plus  gentle  lanolin,  akin  to  the 
oils  in  a  healtln  scalp.  Lathers  riehh  in 
hard  or  soft  water.  No  special  rinse  needed. 
Try  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo!  Be  a  lovely 
'i.ustre-Creme"  Dream  Girl,  4-oz.  jar,  $1; 
smaller  sizes  in  jars  or  tubes.  ll)c  and  25*. 
At  all  cosmetic  counters.  Try  it  today! 
Koy  Daumit, Inc.  (Successor! ,91 9 N.Mich. Ave., Chicago, III. 


THE  STYLES 

WITH 

UNIT 


juvki&c 


creates  a  washable-starchable 
house-coat  of  great  distinction, 
soon  to  be  seen  at  the  leading 
fashion  shops.  "For  this  and  all 
washables,"  says  Dorian,  "we 
recommend  UNIT  Starch.  This 
finest  of  starches  restores  origi- 
nal finish  and  freshness." 


Such  a  versatile  garment ! 
—  a  practical  breakfast- 
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things,  curtains,  lingerie  . . . 
UNIT  makes  cottons  look 
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them  resistant  to  muss  and 
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UNIT. 


»      FOR   THE 


M  i  C.  P.  u    Co..  1848 


22       'I.IM  i  ,,.1,1,1,  marl   distinguishing  this  product  of  Corn  Products  Refining  Co.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 


MINNIE   PEARL 


MISS  MINNIE  PEARL,  queen  of  the 
mountaineer  comediennes,  who  is 
heard  on  Saturdays  at  10:30  P.M., 
EDT,  on  NBC's  Grand  Ole  Opry,  was 
born  down  in  South  Carolina  way  back 
in  1938 — almost  ten  years  ago.  But 
Miss  Sarah  Ophelia  Colley,  whose  per- 
sonality has  been  practically  usui'Ded 
by  the  madcap  character,  was  born  at 
Grinder's  Switch,  Tennessee,  near  the 
quiet  little  town  of  Centerville,  ".  .  .  too 
long  back  to  laugh  about." 

Ophelia,  and  the  only  one  who  still 
calls  her  that  is  her  mother,  because  all 
her  friends  have  taken  to  calling  her 
Minnie  Pearl,  created  her  comedy  char- 
acter entirely  by  accident. 

"Did  you  ever  wish  you  had  the 
nerve  to  say  exactly  what  you  wanted 
to,  at  any  time,  or  act  any  way  you 
wished,  without  worrying  about  what 
people  thought?"  Miss  Colley  asked. 
"Well,  Minnie  Pearl  gives  me  a  chance 
to  do  just  that.  I  know  it's  corny,  but 
it's  fun." 

Ophelia  Colley  first  appeared  in  pub- 
lic as  Minnie  Pearl,  costume  and  all,  at 
a  very  fancy,  gay,  social  function  held 
at  a  fashionable  hotel  in  a  South  Caro- 
lina resort  town.  She'd  been  there  once 
before,  while  she  was  a  coach  for  ama- 
teur talent  shows,  and  had  been  asked 
to  help  out  on  this  benefit.  Her  89-cent 
organdy  dress,  lisle  stockings,  big,  flat- 
heeled  shoes  and  beflowered  and  fruited 
straw  sailor  hat  created  a  riot  of  laugh- 
ter among  the  evening  garbed  socialites 
as  she  walked  through  them  to  the 
platform  that  evening. 

But  her  public  appearances  date  back 
even  farther  than  that.  She  was  the 
youngest  of  five  sisters  and  her  sisters 
all  played  with  her  through  her  baby- 
hood as  though  she  were  one  of  their 
dolls.  The  result — her  sisters  had  her 
performing  for  the  family  and  friends 
by  the  time  she  was  able  to  walk. 

When  she  finished  high  school,  her 
parents  decided  to  send  her  to  Ward- 
Belmont,  a  leading  Southern  finishing 
school.  She  majored  in  elocution  and 
dramatics,  telescoped  four  years'  work 
into  two  and  returned  to  Centerville  to 
teach  in  the  local  school. 

But  one  day  in  1940,  the  Tennessee 
Bankers  Association  had  an  all  day 
session  near  Centerville  and  Minnie 
Pearl  was  engaged  to  help  liven  up  the 
program.  News  of  her  unique  and 
humorous  act  was  carried  back  to  Nash- 
ville and  a  week  or  two  later  she  was 
hired  by  station  WSM  for  a  local  show 
on  the  'Saturday  night  Grand  Ole 
Opry.  In  1942  she  went  on  the  NBC 
network,  where  her  antics  have  become 
a  beloved  part  of  the  program. 


SAM  COWLING 


FUN'S  FUN,  but  try  clowning  before 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  some- 
time. Ourselves,  we  can't  quite 
manage  it.  But  Sam  Cowling,  the  laugh 
getter  on  the  Breakfast  Club  (ABC, 
Monday  through  Friday  at  9  A.M.,  EDT) 
has  no  trouble  whatsoever.  He's  a  mas- 
ter heckler  and  practitioner  of  the  dead- 
pan school  of  comedy  and  he  can  turn  it 
on  and  off  at  will,  morning,  noon,  or 
night. 

Cowling  was  born  on  January  8,  1914, 
in  Jeffersonville,  Indiana.  In  high 
school,  he  and  two  chums  formed  a  trio, 
in  which  Sam  played  the  ukulele  and 
sang  tenor. 

All  this  had  nothing  to  do  with  a 
career,  then.  Sam  was  mainly  interested 
in  designing  and'  erecting  great  and 
beautiful  buildings.  But  he  was  grad- 
uated from  high  school  in  the  depres- 
sion year  of  1932.  a  year  when  the  world 
had  a  lot  more  use  for  a  little  light 
entertainment  than  it  did  for  architects. 
Having  made  this  big  discovery,  the 
singing"  trio  hied  itself  to  Louisville. 
There,  known  as  The  Three  Romeos, 
they  made  regular  broadcasts  for  a  few 
months  and  then  moved  on  to  try  their 
luck  in  Evansville  and  Cincinnati.  But 
those  were  tough  days  for  young  hope- 
fuls. They  scurried  back  to  Louis- 
ville and,  somehow,  landed  a  morning 
hour  program. 

In  1935,  Sam  met  the  girl,  and  they 
were  married  shortly  afterwards.  A 
year  later,  while  marooned  in  a  ma- 
ternity ward  for  three  days  during  the 
Ohio  River  flood  in  1937,  Sam's  wife 
presented  him  with  a  son.  The  proud 
parents  almost  named  the  baby  Noah, 
but  as  the  flood  subsided,  they  decided 
to  name  him  Sam,  Jr.  Later,  another 
son,  Billy,  joined  the  family. 

In  that  same  year,  Sam  moved  his 
family  to  Chicago,  and  the  Romeos  soon 
sang  their  waj?  into  a  leading  network 
.  show.  Since  then  the  trio  has  appeared 
regularly  on  various  variety  shows,  and 
Sam  has  gained  fame  as  chie'.'  heckler 
and  stooge  on  the  Breakfast  Club.  His 
inspired  nonsense  has  become  known 
from  coast  to  coast  and  many  of  his 
quotations  from  "Sam's  Almanac  of 
Fiction  and  Fact"  have  become  national 
catch-phrases. 

Some  of  his  most  hilarious  comedy 
never  reaches  the  air.  One  piece  of 
business  he  pulls  every  morning  comes 
during  that  break  in  the  show  when  the 
announcer  gives  the  station  break.  As 
the  announcer  says,  "This  is  the  Ameri- 
can Broadcasting  Company,"  Cowling 
leaps  to  his  feet  like  a  maniac  and  yells, 
"He  said  that  yesterday."  And  the  au- 
dience rolls  in  the  aisles. 


HlMTiwi  -IWtkTonL? 


(see  answer  below) 


One  Permanent  Cost  $15... the  TONI  only  $2 


Such  deep  luxurious  waves.  So  soft,  so  nat- 
ural-looking. \ou'll  say  your  Toni  Home 
Permanent  is  every  bit  as  lovely  as  an  ex- 
pensive salon  wave.  But  before  trying  Toni, 
you'll  want  the  answers  to  these  questions: 

Will  TONI  work  on  my  hair? 

Yes,  Toni  waves  any  kind  of  hair  that  will 
take  a  permanent,  including  gray,  dyed, 
bleached  or  baby-fine  hair. 

Can  I  do  it  myself? 

Sure.  Every  day  thousands  of  women  f've 
themselves  Toni  Home  Permanents.  It's 
easv  as  rolling  your  hair  up  on  curlers. 

Will  TONI  save  me  time? 

Definitely.  The  Toni  wave  puts  a  half-day 
back  in  vour  life.  You  don't  have  to  spend 
hours  away  from  home.  While  vour  Toni 
wave  is  "taking"  you  can  go  about  your 
housework  or  do  whatever  you  like. 

How  long  will  my  TONI  wave  last? 

Your  Toni  wave  is  guaranteed  to  last  just 
as  long  as  a  $l.i  beauty  shop  permanent  — 
or  vour  money  back. 

Tune  in  "Give  and  Take"  2  p.  m., 
Eastern  Time,  Saturday,  CBS  Network 


How  much  will  I  save  with  TONI? 

The  Toni  Home  Permanent  Kit  with  re- 
usable plastic  curlers  costs  only  $2.  The 
Toni  Refill  Kit  complete  except  for  curlers 
is  just  SI  .  .  .  yet  there's  no  finer  wave  at 
any  price. 

Which  twin  has  the  TONI? 

Lovely  Jewel  Bubnick  of  Miami  Beach,  says, 
"My  sister,  Ann,  had  an  expensive  beauty 
shop  wave.  I  gave  myself  a  Toni  permanent 
—  at  home.  And  even  our  dates  couldn't  tell 
our  permanents  apart."  Jewel,  the  twin 
with  the  Toni,  is  on  the  left. 


waVeT 


23 


At  last!  A  dazzling  luxury  polish— at  a  dazzling  new,  low  price! 


CWjCt 


PLUS   TAX 


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Here's    luxury    unsurpassed    by    the    highest-priced 
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w iib  camel  hair  tip 

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gleaming  on  your  hands! 


New  .  .  .  the  heavenly  purity!  Free  from  all  irritating 

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this  protection  "extra." 

New  .  .  .  such  ravishing  beauty!  Ten  tantalizing 
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AUDITION 


By  EDGAR  BERGEN 


"All  wrong  for  radio,"  said  the  big  executive 
who  first  auditioned  Edgar  and  Charlie,  which 
shows  how  wrong  even  a  big  executive  can  be. 


CHARLIE  and  I  were  working  the  Chez  Paree 
in  Chicago,  but  we  wanted  to  get  into  radio. 
The  quickest  way,  I  figured  it,  was  to  inter- 
est advertising  agencies.  So  I  sent  out  a  batch 
of  telegrams  modestly  worded:  "Come  and  see 
my  act  at  the  Chez  Paree  if  you  want  a  man 
with  ten  years'  successful  experience  in  vaude- 
ville and  nightclubs,  who  can  write  comedy  and 
play  it." 

Nothing  happened. 

So  I  went  to  call  on  them,  in  person. 

The  first  interview  was  a  little  disconcerting. 
"You  write  your  own  stuff?  We  have  dozens 
of  people  who  write  good  comedy." 

"Ventriloquist?"  shrugged  the  second.  "It's 
probably  all  right  to  be  one,  but  not  on  radio." 

"You  work  with  an  audience?  That's  no 
good,"  another  uttered  his  pronouncement.  "I 
disagree,"  I  ventured  timidly.     So  I  was  out. 

Then  somebody  pulled  some  wires  and  the 
really  big  chance  came.  Charlie  was  goggle- 
eyed.  I  was  practically  speechless — which  went 
for  both  of  us,  of  course!  A  fellow  in  charge  of 
new  talent  at  NBC  was  going  to  give  us  an 
audition.  We  sent  our  pants  out  to  be  pressed, 
got  haircuts  (at  least,  Charlie  did),  and  pre- 
sented ourselves  promptly  at  the  appointed 
hour.    We  did  our  stuff. 

"That  act  will  never  go  on  radio,"  Mr.  Big 
said  bluntly.  "The  jokes  aren't  funny.  The  voice 
isn't  right.    The  diction  is  dreadful." 

"Nuts  to  you,"  muttered  Charlie,  and  he  held 


his  thumb  in  the  region  of  his  nose  as  we  turned 
and  went,  we  thought  forever. 

But  forever  is  a  long  time.  In  this  case,  it 
turned  out  to  be  a  little  less  than  six  months. 
By  then  we  were  back  in  New  York,  doing  our 
act  in  the  Rainbow  Room  at  Radio  City,  and 
when  Elsa  Maxwell  threw  one  of  her  famous 
"400"  parties  for  Noel  Coward,  Charlie  and  I 
"entertained."  Then  Elsa  went  on  Rudy  Vallee's 
radio  show  and  when  she  began  to  talk  about 
the  way  she  fined  up  her  party  talent,  Rudy 
suggested  she  introduce  us  on  one  of  her  NBC 
radio  parties. 

They  asked  us  to  come  back  a  second  week, 
and  a  third. 

"Maybe  we  should  get  a  little  more  money," 
I  suggested  mildly,  at  this  point. 

"Maybe,"  Charlie  broke  in.  "Positively.  Or 
I  quit  the  act,  and  then  Bergen  will  have  to  do 
all  the  talking." 

It  wasn't  until  we  had  been  on  the  Vallee 
broadcasts  about  four  months  that  I  woke  up  to 
what  was  happening.  A  letter  came  addressed 
merely  "Edgar  Bergen,  New  York" — and  I 
got  it. 

"We're  famous,  Bergen,"  Charlie  chortled. 

"Don't  be  silly,  Charlie,"  I  squelched  him. 
But  I  was  feeling  pretty  good  myself.  We'd  done 
it,  at  last. 

And  Mr.  Big,  who  gave  us  the  brush-off  on 
our  First  Audition — what  became  of  him?  Why, 
he  got  to  be  a  Vice  President,  of  course! 


25 


Please     note     these     old     familiar 


words:  The  sentiments  herein 


expressed   are  not   necessarily   those 


of    the    editors.     Mow.     what 


ahont  the  sentiments  of  our  re;mVrs? 


NOT  so  long  ago,  on  a  program  called 
House  Party,  Art  Linkletter  con- 
ducted a  week-long  search  for  "the 
most  recent  mother."  It  was  a  modest 
stunt,  but  it  demonstrated  with  fright- 
ening clarity  just  how  far  people  will 
go  to  participate  in  radio's  current  give- 
away craze. 

First  day's  tour  of  the  studio  audi- 
ence uncovered  a  woman  whose  bab\ 
was  a  month  old.  Next  day,  it  was  a 
mother  with  a  baby  three  weeks  old 
Every  day,  Art  found  the  baby  a  little 
younger,  the  mother  a  little  paler  Or; 
Friday,  final  day  of  the  search,  a  younu 
woman  arrived  at  the  studio  in  a  wheel 
chair  with  a  nurse  in  attendance.  She 
had  just  left  the  hospital.  Her  husband 
had  gone  on  home  with  the  red,  wrin- 
kled infant.  To  this  dauntless  lady 
went  the  shiny,  tomb-sized  refrigerator. 

And  across  the  land,  many  a  house- 
wife looked  at  her  outmoded,  too-small 
ice  chest  and  assured  herself,  "I'd  have 
done  the  same  thing — for  a  new  refrig- 
erator!" 

A  decade  ago  the  average  American 
dreamed  (but  never  dared  hope)  that 
he  might  someday  inherit  $10,000  from 
his  long-lost  uncle  in  Australia.  Today 
the  dream  has  grander  proportions. 
And  the  uncle  in  Australia  has  been 
replaced  by  any  one  of  20  national 
programs  that  give  away  a  king's  ran- 
(    som  in  treasure. 

•  Specifically,  radio  is  now  giving  away 
seven  million  doll;  rs  per  season  in  cash 
and  merchandise   Network  prizes  alone 


NOW  fOR 

THl  GRAND  TRUE  J^,.^ 

^3,285,472.27  CASH        A 

WHAT'S  YOUR  J 

,  MIDDLE  NAME?    J 

k        ^ S' 


^ 


2b 


average  $84,000  a  week.  Out-ot-town 
stations,  with  their  own  local  give- 
aways, bring  the  jackpot  up  to  $165,000. 

Since  this  list  was  compiled,  the  Mu- 
tual Network  has  leaped  into  the  fray 
with  a  program  whose  jackpot  will  be 
$50,000.  "It's  all  a  bribe,"  sputter  the 
critics  of  radio.  "Only  way  they  can 
get  listeners  is  to  give  away  things!" 

This,  we  know,  isn't  strictly  true.  A 
few  audience  participation  shows  are 
first-rate  entertainment  in  themselves. 
And  they'd  have  a  healthy  Hooper  rat- 
ing if  they  gave  away  nothing  but  old 
box-tops. 


Alas,  too  many  others  have  no  enter- 
tainment merit  whatsoever.  They  lure 
listeners  with  promises  of  grand  prizes, 
but  let  weeks  and  weeks  drag  on  before 
the  only  worthwhile  ones,  such  as  a  car 
and  a  piano,  are  actually  given  away. 

Moreover,  one  needn't  show  a  gram 
of  intelligence  to  win  all  on  some  of 
these  sessions.  Much  depends  on  luck, 
the  prompting  of  the  studio  audience 
and  whether  or  not  the  quizmaster 
takes  a  fancy  to  you.  Sometimes  the 
hints  are  so  broad  it's  a  wonder  the 
FCC  doen't  come  down  in  wrath  and 
take  awav  the  station's  license. 


'BICE 


For  the  law  specifically  bars  pro- 
grams that  bear  any  resemblance  to  a 
lottery.  If  a  contestant  wins  a  prize 
without  a  show  of  skill  or  intelligence, 
couldn't  it  be  said  that  he  won  by 
chance?  And  games  of  chance  are  for- 
bidden.   So  there  you  are. 

It's  no  wonder  that  comedians  have 
taken  to  satirizing  the  whole  give-away 
business.  "Did  you  folks  like  the  $1,000 
bills  you  found  on  your  seats  when 
you  came  in?"  Fred  Allen  asked  his 
studio  guests  recently.  Truly,  it  wasn't 
a  far-fetched  query.  Not  as  radio  goes 
these  days. 


However,  take  the  stunts  on  Truth 
or  Consequences.  They  are  handled 
with  taste  and  showmanship.  There 
is  never  a  huge  give-away,  such  as  the 
Miss  Hush  contest  or  the  Walking  Man 
stunt,  that  doesn't  have  a  charity  angle. 
Ralph  Edwards  has  raised  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  dollars  for  cancer  re- 
search, for  the  heart  fund  and  The 
March  of  Dimes.  Ralph  would  give 
listeners  a  good  show  whether  he  had 
anything  to  give  away  or  not.  This  puts 
Truth  or  Consequences  in  the  minority 
among  give-away  programs.  Most  of 
them  are,  at  best,  mediocre. 


By 

HARRIET  VAN   HOHNE 

Harriet  Van  Home's  column,  Radio  and 

Television,  appears  daily  in  the  N.  Y. 

World  Telegram 


It  was  thought  for  a  time  last  year 
that  give-away  shows  were  on  the 
wane.  That  their  day  was  mercifully 
over  and  we  could  go  back  to  enter- 
tainment for  its  own  sweet  sake. 

Then  ABC  came  along  with  Stop 
the  Music!  It  combined  the  flashier 
features  of  the  juke  box,  the  slot  ma- 
chine, bingo  and  an  old  program  called 
The  Pot  o'  Gold.  It  had  a  "mystery 
tune"  for  added  excitement,  and  the 
grand  prize  winners  were  not  the 
studio  guests  but  people  on  The  Great 
Outside  who  were  called  on  the  tele- 
phone. 

In  less  than  a  month  rival  networks 
had  programs  on  the  air  that  were 
almost  carbon  copies.  All  used  the 
telephone  as  a  fulcrum.  All  suffered 
from  the  same  noisiness.  All  were 
guilty  of  radio's  newest  sin:  bribing 
listeners.  Offering  prize  bait  instead  of 
entertainment.  Unfortunately,  it's  a 
trend  that  will  abate  only  when  listen- 
ers shove  their  dials  away  from  these 
bargain  basements  and  tune  in  a  half 
hour  of  good  music  or  drama. 

Though  at  least  six  programs  now  use 
the  telephone  gimmick,  statistics  show 
that  the  average  family  is  listening 
against  tremendous  odds.  Precisely, 
the  chances  are  one  in  22  million  that 
you  will  be  called  by  a  jolly  quizmaster 
who  wants  to  know  how  many  feet 
make  a  biped.  A  radio  statistician  fig- 
ured that  out  simply  by  counting  the 
phones  in  the  USA. 

People  who  (Continued  on  page  96) 


27 


I 


Please     note     these     old     familiar 
words:  The  sentiments  herein 
expressed  are  not   necessarily  those 
of    the    editors.     Now.     what 
ahont  the  sentiments  of  our  readers? 


NOT  so  long  ago,  on  a  program  called 
House  Party.  Art  Linkletter  con- 
ducted a  week-long  search  for  "the 
most  recent  mother."  It  was  a  modest 
stunt,  but  it  demonstrated  with  fright- 
ening clarity  just  how  far  people  will 
go  to  participate  in  radio's  current  give- 
away craze. 

First  day's  tour  of  the  studio  audi- 
ence uncovered  a  woman  whose  bab\ 
was  a  month  old.  Next  day,  it  was  h 
mother  with  a  baby  three  weeks  old 
Every  day,  Art  found  the  baby  a  little 
younger,  the  mother  a  little  paler  On 
Friday,  final  day  of  the  search,  a  younv 
woman  arrived  at  the  studio  in  a  wheel 
chair  with  a  nurse  in  attendance.  She 
;  had  just  left  the  hospital.  Her  husband 
had  gone  on  home  with  the  red,  wrin- 
kled infant.  To  this  dauntless  lady 
went  the  shiny,  tomb-sized  refrigerator 
And  across  the  land,  many  a  house- 
wife looked  at  her  outmoded,  too-small 
ice  chest  and  assured  herself,  "I'd  have 
done  the  same  thing — for  a  new  refrig- 
erator!" 

A  decade  ago  the  average  American 
dreamed  (but  never  dared  hope)  that 
he  might  someday  inherit  $10,000  from 
his  long-lost  uncle  in  Australia.  Today 
the  dream  has  grander  proportions. 
And  the  uncle  in  Australia  has  been 
replaced  by  any  one  of  20  national 
programs  that  give  away  a  king's  ran- 
som in  treasure. 
h  Specifically,  radio  is  now  giving  away 
seven  million  doli:  rs  per  season  in  cash 
and  merchandise  Network  prizes  alone 


10 


tffc  a:EVC£ 


Wot 


/NOW  TOR 

THl  GRAND  PRIZE 

*3,285,472.27  CASH 
WHAT'S  VOUR 
MIDD1X  NAMU? 


Uld  it 


average  $84,000  a  week.  Out-ot-town 
stations,  with  their  own  local  give- 
aways, bring  the  jackpot  up  to  $165,000. 

Since  this  list  was  compiled,  the  Mu- 
tual Network  has  leaped  into  the  fray 
with  a  program  whose  jackpot  will  be 
$50,000.  "It's  all  a  bribe,"  sputter  the 
critics  of  radio.  "Only  way  they  can 
get  listeners  is  to  give  away  things!" 

This,  we  know,  isn't  strictly  true.  A 
few  audience  participation  shows  are 
first-rate  entertainment  in  themselves. 
And  they'd  have  a  healthy  Hooper  rat- 
ing if  they  gave  away  nothing  but  old 
box-tops. 


Alas,  too  many  others  have  no  enter- 
tainment merit  whatsoever.  They  lure 
listeners  with  promises  of  grand  prizes, 
but  let  weeks  and  weeks  drag  on  before 
the  only  worthwhile  ones,  such  as  a  car 
and  a  piano,  are  actually  given  away. 

Moreover,  one  needn't  show  a  gram 
of  intelligence  to  win  all  on  some  of 
these  sessions.  Much  depends  on  luck, 
the  prompting  of  the  studio  audience 
and  whether  or  not  the  quizmaster 
takes  a  fancy  to  you.  Sometimes  the 
hints  are  so  broad  it's  a  wonder  the 
FCC  doe-n't  come  down  in  wrath  and 
take  away  the  station's  license. 


For  the  law  specifically  bars  pro- 
grams that  bear  any  resemblance  to  a 
lottery.  If  a  contestant  wins  a  prize 
without  a  show  of  skill  or  intelligence, 
couldn't  it  be  said  that  he  won  by 
chance?  And  games  of  chance  are  for- 
bidden. So  there  you  are. 

It's  no  wonder  that  comedians  have 
taken  to  satirizing  the  whole  give-away 
business.  "Did  you  folks  like  the  $1,000 
bills  you  found  on  your  seats  when 
you  came  in?"  Fred  Allen  asked  his 
studio  guests  recently.  Truly,  it  wasn't 
a  far-fetched  query.  Not  as  radio  goes 
these  days. 


However,  take  the  stunts  on  Truth 
or  Consequences.  They  are  handled 
with  taste  and  showmanship.  There 
is  never  a  huge  give-away,  such  as  the 
Miss  Hush  contest  or  the  Walking  Man 
stunt,  that  doesn't  have  a  charity  angle 
Ralph  Edwards  has  raised  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  dollars  for  cancer  re- 
search, for  the  heart  fund  and  The 
March  of  Dimes.  Ralph  would  give 
listeners  a  good  show  whether  he  had 
anything  to  give  away  or  not.  This  puts 
Truth  or  Consequences  in  the  nunonty 
among  give-away  programs.  Most  of 
them  are,  at  best,  mediocre. 


By 

HARRIET  VAN   HORN! 

Hiirriet  Van  Home's  column,  Railio  and 

Television,  appears   daily    in   llie   N.  Y. 

World  Telegram 


It  was  thought  for  a  time  last  year 
that  give-away  shows  were  on  the 
wane.  That  their  day  was  mercifully 
over  and  we  could  go  back  to  enter- 
tainment for  its  own  sweet  sake. 

Then  ABC  came  along  with  Stop 
the  Music!  It  combined  the  flashier 
features  of  the  juke  box,  the  slot  ma- 
chine, bingo  and  an  old  program  called 
The  Pot  o'  Gold.  It  had  a  "mystery 
tune"  for  added  excitement,  and  the 
grand  prize  winners  were  not  the 
studio  guests  but  people  on  The  Great 
Outside  who  were  called  on  the  tele- 
phone. 

In  less  than  a  month  rival  networks 
had  programs  on  the  air  that  were 
almost  carbon  copies.  All  used  the 
telephone  as  a  fulcrum.  All  suffered 
from  the  same  noisiness.  All  were 
guilty  of  radio's  newest  sin:  bribing 
listeners.  Offering  prize  bait  instead  of 
entertainment.  Unfortunately,  it's  a 
trend  that  will  abate  only  when  listen- 
ers shove  their  dials  away  from  these 
bargain  basements  and  tune  in  a  half 
hour  of  good  music  or  drama. 

Though  at  least  six  programs  now  use 
the  telephone  gimmick,  statistics  show 
that  the  average  family  is  listening 
against  tremendous  odds.  Precisely, 
the  chances  are  one  in  22  million  that 
you  will  be  called  by  a  jolly  quizmaster 
who  wants  to  know  how  many  feet 
make  a  biped.  A  radio  statistician  fig- 
ured that  out  simply  by  counting  the 
phones  in  the  USA. 
People  who  (Continued  on  page  96) 


TOM  BRENEMAN 


By  GARRY  MOORE 


28 


WIHEN  Radio  Mirror  first  asked  that  I  write 
about  Tom  Breneman,  I  was  a  little  afraid 
to  tackle  it. 

"There's  nobody  I'd  rather  talk  about,"  I  said, 
"but  after  all,  I  was  never  fortunate  enough  to 
be  among  Tom's  intimate  circle.  I'd  feel  pre- 
sumptuous. .  .  ." 

But  even  as  I  was  speaking,  it  came  to  me 
suddenly  that  I  did  know  Tom  very  well  indeed, 
that  in  a  strange  and  wonderful  way  I  had  been 
becoming  better  acquainted  with  him  day  by  day. 

And  it  is  this  that  I'll  try,  humbly  and  grate- 
fully, to  tell  you  about  .  .  .  how  I,  one  among  his 
millions  of  admirers,  know  that  the  spirit  of  Tom 
Breneman  lives  and  his  soul  goes  laughing  on. 

The  world  of  radio,  as  you  know,  is  a  busy 
place,  ruled  by  the  clock.  For  a  long  time  my 
acquaintance  with  Tom  was  mostly  that  of  an 
interested  listener  to  his  phenomenal  Breakfast 
in  Hollywood.  Very  few  performers  who  worked 
my  late-at-night  hours  enjoyed  the  privilege  of 
frequent  contact  with  a  man  whose  work  hauled 
him  from  bed  before  dawn,  sent  him  back  shortly 
after  twilight.  When  Tom  was  hitting  the  pillow 
out  at  his  Encino  home,  most  of  us  were  warm- 
ing up  for  our  own  encounters  with  the  mike. 

I  listened,  when  I  could,  to  Tom's  show.  Who 
didn't?  It  was  the  talk  of  show  business.  Here 
was  a  guy  who,  as  Hedda  Hopper  once  put  it  so 
neatly,  had  "parlayed  a  dame's  hat,  a  hothouse 
orchid,  and  a  gift  of  gab  into  a  national  institu- 
tion." Radio's  wiseacres  had  said,  almost  to  a 
man,  that  the  idea  hadn't  a  chance.  But  there  it 
was,  heading  the  list  of  daytime  shows  for  nation- 
wide popularity,  tops  on  the  polls,  first  in  the 
hearts  of  the  nation's  housewives  old  and  young, 
and  rating  high  with  the  male  population  as  well. 
Skeptics,  who  couldn't  believe  it  at  first,  began 
to  listen  tentatively  and  then  became  Breneman 
"converts."  Like  my  friend  Durante,  he  had  a 
million  of  'em — plus  other  millions  who  never 
needed  "converting." 

My  actual  meetings  with  Tom,  when  I  look 
back  on  them,  tell  me  why  this  had  to  be  so. 
What  he  gave  on  the  air  was  more  than  fun, 
zaniness,    and    laughter.      It   was   warm,    human 


sympathy.  It  was  friendliness.  And  he  gave  you 
that  in  person,  too. 

I  first  met  him  backstage  at  some  benefit  show 
a  few  years  ago.  A  big  fellow  he  was,  with  dis- 
tinguished silvering  hair,  saddish  eyes  that  still 
carried  a  twinkle  in  their  depths,  and  a  rather 
tired  expression.  Tired,  that  is,  until  he  smiled, 
which  he  did  often  and  freely.  "Hiya,  Garry,"  he 
said,  as  if  we'd  known  each  other  a  long  time. 
"Say,  I  like  your  show." 

Words  like  that  are  always  sweet  music  to  a 
performer,  especially  when  they're  said  with 
Tom's  sincerity  by  such  a  veteran  as  he  was. 
Whenever  we  ran  across  each  other  after  that, 
it  was  "Hiya,  Garry"  and  "Hiya,  Tom,"  easy  and 
friendly. 

The  last  time  I  talked  to  him  it  was  by  tele- 
phone. Tom  was  going  away  with  the  lovely  Mrs. 
Breneman  to  Arizona  for  a  badly  needed  rest, 
and  I  was  among  those  who  were  to  "guest"  for 
him  during  his  absence.  But  I  had  fallen  ill,  and 
my  illness  had  become  worse.  Now  it  looked  as 
if  I'd  not  only  be  unable  to  "sub"  for  Tom  but 
would  have  to  ask  help  (Continued  on  page  89) 


The  people  who  work  in  radio, 
and  those  who  listen  to  it,  will  long 
remember  Tom  Breneman.  For 
he  gave  away  generously  some  of 
the  world's  most  precious  goods: 
kindness,  friendship,  laughter 


I 


\ 


I  WAS  THE 


L*ss  than  two  hours  after  leaving  Lackawanna,  N.  Y.,  the 
Pillions  were  at  La  Guardia,  ready  for  the  dining-out,  theater- 
going   holiday    the    Betty    Crocker    program    had    planned. 


By  MRS.  FRANK  S.  PILLION 


Special  pan  for  Mrs.  Pillion's  noodles  was  designed 
by  her  husband,  bnt  they  explained  to  Magazine  of 
the  Air's  Susan  Adams  (c.)  that  it's  just  an  "extra." 


I  HAVE  just  finished  three  days  in  New  York  as  the 
guest  of  The  Betty  Crocker  Magazine  of  the  Air,  and, 
because  the  whole  thing  has  been  such  fun,  I  think 
that  maybe  all  of  those  who  follow  Betty  Crocker's 
broadcasts  every  weekday  morning  would  like  to  know 
exactly  what  happens  when  you  are  chosen  the  Home- 
maker  of  the  Week  and  are  invited  to  come  to  New 
York  and  appear  on  her  Wednesday  broadcast. 

For  those  who  are  not  familiar  with  the  show,  I  had 
better  explain  that  the  Homemaker  of  the  Week  is 
chosen  on  the  basis  of  letters  about  their  wives  written 
to  Betty  Crocker  by  husbands  in  her  audience.  In  my 
case,  I  did  not  know  what  was  in  Frank's  letter  until 
he  read  it  on  the  air.  I  did  not  even  know  that  he  had 
written  it  until  one  afternoon  there  was  a  ring  at  the 
door  of  our  home  in  Lackawanna,  New  York,  and  a 
nice-looking  young  man  identified  himself  as  a  repre- 
sentative of  the  Betty  Crocker  show. 

I  thought  he  was  making  some  kind  of  an  audience 
survey  until  he  asked  if  I  had  any  objection  to  going 
on  the  air.  Then  I  realized  that  Frank  must  have  written 
a  prize-winning  letter,  without  saying  a  word  to  me 
about  it.  I  couldn't  wait  for  him  to  get  home  so  I  could 
find  out  what  he  had  said  about  me. 

But  he  wouldn't  tell  me.    He  just  laughed  and  said, 


'P'tom  <&  6u4&<z*tcC<i,  tniiute  fo  6i&  wife. 


Hzme 


>cr 


After  Frank  Pillion's  winning  letter  was  read,  Mrs.  Pillion  demonstrated  her  chicken-and-noodle  recipe  step  by  step 
before  the  hungry  eyes  of  M.C.  Win  Elliot,  Mr.  Pillion,  home  economist  Elsie  Busman,  (r)  and  the  studio  audience 
at  Betty  Crocker's  Magazine  of  the  Air.    (Program  time  is  Monday  through  Friday,  10:30  A.M.  EDT,  on  ABC  stations.) 


"I've  forgotten.  You  told  me  to  write  to  Betty  Crocker, 
so,  being  the  properly  obliging  husband  that  I  am,  I 
did  it." 

"I  never  did  tell  you  to  write  to  Betty  Crocker!"  I 
protested.   "I  wouldn't  be  so  conceited!" 

Then  I  remembered. 

Frank  is  extremely  fond  of  a  "Chicken  Paprikash" 
that  I  make.  He  went  on  about  it  so  enthusiastically  the 
last  time  I  served  it  that  I  said, 

"Don't  tell  this  to  me — tell  ft  to  Betty  Crocker  so  she 
can  tell  the  world." 

It  was  just  something  you  say  in  fun,  but  it  gave  him 
an  idea.  He  wrote  the  letter  at  his  office,  dropped  it  in 
the  mail  and  said  nothing  whatever  about  it.  And  I 
thought  my  husband  had  no  secrets  from  me! 

The  next  thing  that  happened  was  a  long  distance 
call  from  New  York.  A  nice  voice  asked  if  I  would  be 
at  home  at  4:30  to  talk  with  Bill  Doughten. 

"You  have  the  wrong  number,"  I  said  firmly.  "I  do 
not  know  a  Mr.  Doughten." 

When  they  insisted  that  they  had  the  right  number,  it 
flashed  through  my  mind  that  it  might  be  one  of  my 
husband's  army  friends,  so  I  said, 

"Would  you  mind  telling  me  who  Mr.  Doughten  is? 
He  may  want  Mr.  Pillion,  not  Mrs.  Pillion." 


"It's  Mr.  Doughten,  Program  Supervisor  of  the  Betty 
Crocker  Magazine  of  the  Air,"  they  said.  "Can  you  talk 
at  4:30?" 

With  that  I  woke  up. 

"By  all  means!"  I  said  because  I  suspected  that  they 
would  not  be  calling  all  the  way  from  New  York  unless 
they  were  going  to  ask  us  to  go  on  the  air. 

I  was  delighted.  We  had  been  at  home  quite  closely 
since  Frank  came  out  of  the  army.  We  were  ready  for  a 
holiday,  and  what  could  be  more  entertaining  than  going 
to  New  York  and  meeting  the  people  I  had  been  listening 
to  on  the  air?  Everyone  always  wonders  what  the 
people  on  favorite  programs  really  are  like.  Besides,  I 
always  had  been  curious  to  know  if  Betty  Crocker  had 
a  real  kitchen  in  front  of  her  microphone  or  if  they 
were  just  acting  out  that  part  of  the  program. 

I  called  Frank  right  away. 

"Try  to  get  here,"  I  asked  him.  "And  bring  that 
letter!  Now  I  have  to  see  it." 

The  call  came  through  on  the  dot.  Mr.  Doughten 
wanted  to  know  if  it  would  be  convenient  for  both  of  us 
to  be  their  guests  in  about  two  weeks.  That  gave  us 
easy  time  to  arrange  Frank's  business  so  he  could  be 
away,  so  the  date  was  set  and  three  other  nice  voices 
came   on   the   line:    Susan    (Continued   on   page  79) 


WayoftHe  o£  t6e  rfin  ti4te*ter&  teained  <t  tecifie — fat  <fc  ^ucce^cU  tH*wUa$e 


31 


Mrs.  Thomas  gets  a  capsule  trip  to  Iraq 
as  Lowell  Jr.,  planning  a  visit  there  with 
an  economic  mission,  is  briefed  by  Lowell  Sr. 


A   snapping-turtle  trap  for   Quaker   Lake. 

In  his  special  corner  of 

New  York  State,  world -wanderer 

Thomas  is  really  "at  home" 

By  WELIS   CHURCH 

Director    of    News    Broadcasts    on    CBS,    on    which 
Lowell  Thomas  is  heard  Mon.-Fri.,  6:45  P.M.  EDT. 


THERE  are  a  lot  of  things  I  remember 
about  Lowell  Thomas,  and  one  of  the 
most  vivid  is  the  first  taxi-ride  I  had 
with  him.  It  was  a  dark  night  and  we 
were  on  a  dark  'corner.  We  got  into 
the  first  taxi  that  came  along  and 
Lowell  said,  "Take  us  to  the  station, 
please."  There  was  an  instant  reaction 
from  the  driver.  Without  turning 
around  he  announced,  "I'd  know  that 
voice  anywhere.  You're  Lowell 
Thomas." 

"Happens  all  the  time,"  Thomas 
grinned  at  me.  "Proves  one  thing:  I'll 
never  commit  a  crime — I  couldn't  stay 
hidden  for  ten  minutes!" 

Walking  around  with  Lowell  in  the 
daytime,  I've  noticed  his  face  is  recog- 
nized   almost    as    fast    as    his    voice — 


From  a  completely-equipped  studio  behind  the  garage,  Thomas  can 
broadcast  as  conveniently  as  though  he  were  at  CBS  in  New  York. 
Announcer  Nelson  Case  (center)  comes  up  to  Hammersley  Hill  to  be 
on  hand  for  both  broadcasts  (6:45  and  11  P.M.).  Electra  Ward,  one 
of    Thomas's    secretaries,    times    the    show,    keeps    material    straight. 


32 


2,000  acres  of  Dutchess  County,  in  upper 
New  York  State,  go  with  "Hammersley  Hill," 
which   Thomas  purchased   two   years  ago. 


T 


In  his  special  corner  of 

New  York  State,  world-wanderer 

Thomas  is  really  "at  home" 

By  WELLS  CHURCH 

DlrMoi    „i    n,„,    Broadenu 
I  ow-.ll    I  hon iai  >■  hi  Jul  Mi. n    I- 


Ti  IKItE  arc  a  lot  of  things  I  remember 
about  Lowell  Thomas,  and  one  of  the 
most  vivid  is  the  first  taxi-ride  1  had 
with  him.  It  was  a  dark  night  and  we 
were  on  a  dark  'corner.  We  got  into 
the  first  taxi  that  came  alone,  and 
Lowell  said,  "Take  us  to  the  station, 
please."  There  was  an  instant  reaction 
from  the  driver.  Without  turning 
around  he  announced,  "I'd  know  that 
voice  anywhere.  You're  Lowell 
Thomas." 

"Happens  all  the  time,"  Thomas 
grinned  at  me.  "Proves  one  thing:  111 
nevet  commit  .,  crime— I  couldn't  stay 
hidden  for  ten  minutes!" 

Walking  around  with  Lowell  in  the 
daytime,  I've  noticed  his  face  is  recog- 
nized   almost    as    fast    as    his    voice— 


From  a  complelelyequipped  studio  behind  the  garage,  Tl„, 
broad™.,  u.  conveniently  as  .hough  he  were  a.  CBS  in  New  York, 
^nouacer  Nelson  Case  (center)  coraes  up  ,o  Hammersley  Hill  lo  Ik 
•">  hand  tor  h„,h  broadcasts  (6:45  and  11  P.M.I.  Electra  Ward,  one 
o     Thomas',    secretaries,    limes   .he    show,    keeps    material    straight. 


Mrs.  Thomas  lifts  Winkie  out  of  reach  of  poodle  Boots 
and  spaniel  Roger — though  of  course  they're  all  friends ! 


Both  Lowells,  Jr.  and  Sr.,  keep  16  mm.  movie  records  of 
all    their   trips,   which   adds   up    to   quite   a    film   library. 


Last-second  news  is  teletyped  into  the  garage-studio. 


thanks  to  a  dozen  years  of  having  it  on  every  Fox 
Movietone  Newsreel.  "Gosh,  Lowell  Thomas  looks  wor- 
ried today — think  he's  heard  some  new  war  rumors?" 
strangers  mutter  to  each  other  as  they  pass  him  on  the 
street.  Or  else  they  gloat,  "Hey,  look  how  happy  Thomas 
looks  today.   There'll  be  good  news  tonight!" 

All  of  this  is  the  natural  result  of  the  longest  con- 
tinual record  in  radio  history:  eighteen  years  of  broad- 
casting, five  days  a  week,  at  the  same  exact  time  (6:45- 
7:00  PM,  EDT.  No  vacations,  no  holidays — when  he 
goes  anywhere,  a  microphone  goes  with  him.  Some  of 
it  comes  also  from  twice-a-week  newsreel  commentary, 
and  from  hundreds  of  travel  shorts  and  commercial 
movies  which  Thomas  also  narrates.  Yes,  his  name  and 
voice  are  known  everywhere.  I  should  .  know — as  a 
friend  of  his,  I  spend  half  my  time  answering  questions 
about  him.  I  finally  decided  to  get  him  down  on  paper 
for  posterity — and  to  settle  a  few  wrong  guesses  while 
I'm  at  it! 

For  instance,  you  think,  don't  you,  that  Thomas  is  a 
stuffed  shirt — because  his  voice  is  so  superbly  modu- 
lated? Wrong.  The  only  shirts  he  cares  about  are  loud 
and  raucous  sports  ones,  of  which  he  has  a  bigger  collec- 
tion than  Bing  Crosby.  You  think,  also,  that  Thomas 
lives  next  door  to  CBS — and  that  all  he  does  is  face  a 
mike?  Wrong  again.  He  lives  two  hours  from  New 
York  City  in  a  sprawling  colossus  of  a  country  house 


34 


Thomas   is    very   active    in    community    affairs    in     the    Quaker    Hill    section    where    Hammersley 
Hill    is    located;    he   lectures    frequently    at    the    Country    Club    to    students,    teachers    and   friends. 


with  his  wife  and  son — and  with  his  own  private  broad- 
casting studio  200  yards  from  his  front  porch.  You 
think  that  he's  an  authority  on  just  one  thing,  radio? 
Wrong  once  more — Mr.  T.  is  a  famous  explorer  of 
Africa  and  India,  a  traveler  who  has  seen  every  corner 
of  the  world,  the  author  of  forty  books,  a  ski  expert  .  .  . 
and  in  his  past  he  has  been  everything  from  a  gold 
miner  to  a  college  professor.  He's  also  had  a  prodigious 
number  of  "firsts" — first  man  to  broadcast  from  an  air- 
plane, from  a  ship  at  sea,  from  a  submarine,  and  from 
a  helicopter.  Further,  he's  the  first  commentator  who 
appeared  on  television.   Convinced? 

But  you'd  be  convinced  of  anything  if  you  visited  his 
2000-acre  estate  called  "Hammersley  Hill,"  where  he 
lives  and  works.  Certainly  I  was  convinced  when  I 
first  visited  there,  about  a  year  ago.  To  start  with,  I 
will  never  forget  my  astonishment  when  I  walked  into 
his  living  room  for  the  first  time  to  meet  my  fellow 
guests — who  were  ex-President  Herbert  Hoover,  Gen- 
eral Jimmy  Doolittle,  and  the  famous  explorer  Roy 
Chapman  Andrews!  I  might  add  that  I  was  further 
astounded  by  Lowell's  twenty-four-year-old  son  Lowell 
Jr.,  who  is  no  mean  explorer  himself.  He  was  home 
from  Dartmouth  College  that  weekend,  and  he  sat 
around  matching  notes  with  General  Doolittle  and  Mr. 
Andrews  on  such  diverse  places  as  Brazil,  Alaska,  and 
Turkey  the  way  you  and  I  would  match  notes  on  the 


corner  drug  store.  Pretty  Mrs.  Thomas  joined  in  a  lot 
too,  because  she's  been  around  the  world  several  times 
with  her  busy  husband. 

But  fascinated  as  I  was  by  the  unusual  guests  and 
conversation,  I  was  just  as  dumbfounded  over  the  estate 
itself — most  of  whose  2000  acres  Lowell  showed  me 
from  horseback  the  next  morning.  "I'm  always  outdoors 
and  exercising  every  morning,  winter  or  summer,"  he 
told  me  as  we  rode.  "I  discovered  long  ago  that  there's 
no  such  thing  as  bad  weather  if  you're  dressed  for  it!" 

So,  mounted  on  Lowell's  horses,  we  trotted  up  to  a 
ski  lift  and  a  ski  chalet.  "Yes,  they're  my  own,"  he 
admitted.  "I  built  them  because  I  love  skiing — and  now 
all  my  friends  are  up  here  skiing  as  much  as  I  am."  My 
jaw  was  still  hanging  at  the  idea  of  a  private  ski  lift 
and  chalet  when  Lowell  guided  me  to  a  sparkling 
ninety-acre  lake.  "And  this  is  my  own  lake,  where  I 
swim  every  morning  in  summer — along  with  all  my 
friends,"  he  said  with  the  pride  of  ownership. 

We  spent  the  whole  morning  looking  at  the  endless 
buildings  and  woods  on  his  beautiful  place.  In  the  after- 
noon neither  I  nor  anyone  'else  in  the  household  saw 
Lowell  at  all.  He  was  hard  at  work  in  his  four-room 
studio  building,  abetted  by  his  four  secretaries,  a  switch- 
board, a  film-cutting  room  and  a  projection  room  for 
showing  movies — these  last  two  for  his  news-reel  and 
travelogue  film  activities.  Later  (Continued  on  page  97) 


35 


I 


*   .  \ 


When  Mary  came  to  New  York  from  Iowa,  she  was  a  stranger  in  the  city,  lonely  and  confused.  She  tried  unsuccessfully 
to  get  work  as  an  actress,  but  without  contacts  or  experience  the  way  was  so  difficult  that  she  finally  accepted  a  stenographic 
job  in  a  theatrical  agent's  office.  It  was,  for  the  time  being,  the  closest  she  could  get  to  her  dream.  And  she  was  never  sorry, 
for    it    was    here    that,    one    day,    she    met    Larry    Noble,    one    of    America's    handsomest    actors,    idol    of    a    million    women. 


BarkMagr  Wife,  roarelvrd  aad  prodared  by  Frank  aad  Anne  Hummtrl,  i*  heard  Monday  through  Friday  al  4  P.  M.  EDT,  on  NBC. 


36 


on 


zJrwouaA  me  ueawb  wim 


MCJM 


The  love  of  Mary  and  Larry  Noble  glows 
more  brightly  than  the  make-believe  glamor 


of  the  theater  that  is  part  of  their  lives 


2.  Instantly  attracted  by  Mary's  prettiness  and  charm, 
Larry  invited  her  to  see  the  play  in  which  he  was  starring. 
And  later,  at  supper  in  one  of  New  York's  glamorous 
restaurants,  the  young  actor  and  the  shy  Iowa  girl 
realized  breathlessly  that  they  had  fallen  in  love.  Then 
and  there,  Larry  proposed  marriage — and  was  accepted. 


3.  Larry's  love  lifted  Mary  into  a  world  of  happiness 
where  fear  and  loneliness  had  no. place.  Quietly,  in  a  pic- 
turesque Connecticut  church,  they  were  married.  Because 
of  Larry's  nightly  appearances  in  his  successful  play  on 
Broadway,  they  had  no  honeymoon— and  needed  none. 
They    could    not    have    been    happier    on    the    moon. 


IN  Radio  Mirror's  backward  look  at 
important  moments  in  the  life  of 
Backstage  Wife  are  the  following  ac- 
tors, just  as  you  hear  them  on  the  air: 

Mary  Noble  is  played  by Claire  Niesen 

Larry  Noble James  Meighan 

Regina  Rawlings Anne  Burr 

Maude  Marlowe Ethel  Wilson 

Tom  Bryson Charles  S.  Webster 

Margot Dorothy  Sands 


on 


J/woua/i  me  uecwb  wim 


4.  Larry's  success  enabled  the  Nobles  to  buy 
a  pretty  little  house  in  Rosehaven,  a  Long 
Island  suburb  half  an  hour  away  from  the  city. 
And  Larry  Jr.  was  born — born  into  a  world  over 
which  threatening  war  clouds  finally  broke. 
Larry  Sr.  became  a  lieutenant  in  the  Coast  Guard. 


5.  Larry  saw  much  active  duty  in  the  South  Pacific, 
and  Mary,  though  busy  with  her  own  acting  career  on 
which  she  embarked  during  his  absence,  went  through 
days  and  nights  of  heartache.  But  two  devoted  friends 
cheered  the  little  house  in  Rosehaven :  Tom  Bryson, 
Larry's  former  manager,  and  actress  Maude  Marlowe. 


8.  But  luck  changed:  Tom  Bryson  returned  from  Holly- 
wood with  a  play  to  be  produced  by  wealthy,  glamor- 
ous Regina  Rawlings,  in  which  there  was  an  excellent 
part  for  Larry.  The  play  was  an  immediate  success — 
and  so,  in  another  way,  was  Larry,  for  imperious  Re- 
gina fell  in  love  with  him  and  directed  all  her  con- 
siderable charm  toward  winning  him  away  from  Mary. 


9.  As  Larry  continued  impervious  to  her  overtures, 
Regina  became  increasingly  determined  to  make  him 
conscious  of  her  as  a  woman.  Deciding  that  with  Mary 
out  of  the  way  her  chances  would  be  far  greater,  she 
and  her  maid  Margot  worked  out  a  series  of  lies  and 
schemes  which  resulted  in  Mary's  being  sent  away, 
with  Larry's  consent,  for  a  "rest  cure"  in  Connecticut. 


38 


6.  Then  came  the  day  the  world  waited  for:  the  war 
was  over.  Larry,  reunited  with  his  wife  and  son, 
planned  a  return  to  the  stage.  But  financial  trouble 
overtook  the  Nobles  as  time  stretched  out  and 
Larry,  in  spite  of  his  talent  and  experience,  did 
not    seem    able    to    find    a    suitable,    promising   part. 


7.  Finally,  famous  playwright  Eric  Jackson,  who 
remembered  Larry's  outstanding  work,  said  he  had 
written  a  play  especially  for  Larry.  Larry,  eager 
to  accept,  suddenly  ■ -realized  that  Jackson  was  in- 
fatuated with  Mary.  Mary,  greatly  upset,  persuaded 
Larry  to  reject  the  part,  though   it  meant  hardship. 


10.  Mary's  enforced  "rest  cure,"  'which  of  course  she 
did  not  need,  was  valuable  because  it  gave  her  the 
time  and  perspective  to  see  what  was  happening  to 
her  arid  Larry.  She  understood  how— and  why — Regina 
was  plotting  to  separate  her  from  Larry,  and  she 
saw  that  the  best  thing  she  could  do  was  to  return 
home  at  once.  Suddenly,  one  day,  she  packed  and  went. 


11.  Larry,  Larry  Jr.,  Maude  and  Tom  were  overjoyed 
at  Mary's  return  home.  But  her  troubles  with  Regina 
were  far  from  ended.  Armed  with  a  talent  for 
scheming  and  the  strong  will  to  win  any  game  she 
played,  Regina  countered  Mary's  return  by  flaunting 
the  estate  she  had  bought,  right  near  the  Noble  home  in 
Rosehaven.  Here  she  was  closer  than  ever  to  Larry. 


39 


Radio  Mirror's  Prize  Poem 
THE-NINTH  MONTH 

September  is  a  stallion 

with  a  flowing,  tawny  mane,    ^Rfcf 

who  has  never  known  a  bridle, 

nor  a  rider,  nor  a  rein: 

a  steed  of  bronze  and  amber 

whose   bright  hooves  strike  the   ground 

with'  a  sharp,  staccato  rhythm 

and  an  icy,  ringing  sound. 

September  is  a  mustang 

from  wild,  untrammeled  skies 

who  gallops  down  the  earthways 

with  wind-enchanted   eyes. 

— Virginia  Moron  Evans 


TO  A  LITTLE  GIRL  GROWING  UP 
(On  Having  Her  Dress  Let  Down) 

This  dress  has  faded  pinkish-white 

Like  laurel  long  exposed  to  light — 

Its  hem,  let  down,  has  left  a  streak. 

As  pink  as  this  or  that  plump  cheek. 

Around  the  skirt.  It's  that  you  mind — 

Not  fadiness?  Why,  how  unkind — 

For  that  pink  streak  will  serve  to  show 

All  those  who  really  couldn't  know. 

When  it  was  new,  your  dress 

Was  aJJ  rose-loveliness! 

Isn't  the  story  you  like  best — 

Better  than  "Snow  White"  and  the  rest — 

The  one  that  I  begin:  "When  I  was  small  like 

you?" —  f/gff 

Well,  that's  a  pink  streak,  too. 
Or  so  it  seems. 

In  the  much  duller  stuff  of  dreams 
My  grown-up  self  must  wear — 
So  there! 

And,  really,  if  one  didn't  grow 
And  hems  were  kept  hemmed  up  just  so 
In  gowns  and  selves,  their  dawn-color  gone. 
Each  time  we  quietly  slipped  them  on. 
There  wouldn't  even  be — just  think — 
One  gay,  remembering  streak  of  pink! 

— Violet  Alleyn  Storey 


REGRESSION 

I  have  drawn  back  the  silver  veil  of  years 
And  found  the  happy  town,  the  laughing 

street 
That  knew  me  as  a  child.  Oh,  I  have  stood 
Once  more  in  the  familiar  doorway  where 

the  sweet  ^ 
Clear  scent  of  lilacs  rides  astride  the  breeze 
To  call  and  reawaken  memories 
Long  laid  in  dust.  Oh,  I  have  walked 
The  garden  paths  again  and  I  have  talked 
To  old  acquaintances  and  frequented 
The  gay  familiar  haunts  of  long  ago 
And  yet  I  am  an  alien — alone — 
A  stranger  in  my  native  land.  I  know 
Man  may  retrace  the  steps  of  any  Climb, 
Descent,    or    Distance — anything    but    Time. 
— Pegasus  Buchanan 


THE  BOOK 

The  world's  a  book  to  small  boys  run- 
ning 
Past  streams  where  solemn  frogs  are 

sunning; 
Through  fields  where  yellow  king-cups 

shouh 
"What's  the  hurry  all  about?" 
So  much  to  read  in  earth's  thick  book, 
So  Unit  time  to  stop  and  look 
At  all  the  wonders  printed  deep 
Upon  the  day.  Too  soon  will  sleep 

Make  reluctant  prisoners 
Of  these  quick-heeled  geographers, 
These  small  philosophers  and  sages 
Who  turn  earth's  multi-colored  pages. 
—Pauline  Havard 


September:  a  time  for  loo  It  in  u  hoehivartL  with  a  siah  for  summer 


Tt0  »*i$tn 


"aUr, 


tjy^^r^ 


H 


'°Oe 


°*»<la 


Pro 


da. 


«fam 


-o^ 

^-.A^"*'"-. 


SONG  FOR  AN  OPEN  DOOR 
An  open  door  is  beautiful  to  me 
As  anything  in  houses,  whether  it 
Be  when  the  pattern  of  it  lies,  lamp-lit. 
Along  the  velvet  grass,  or  when  I  see 
The  morning  sun  flow  in  to  gild  a  floor. 
An  open  door  is  somehow  made  for  laughter 
And  song  to  drift  through,  and  one  looks  back  after 
Leave-taking,  glad  to  see  an  unshut  door. 
I  know  they  will  be  lovely  down  the  years 
To  me  as  now,  alt  opened  doors,  but  none 
Can  be  so  fair  as  that  one  which  appears 
In  sweet  remembrance  when,  my  journey  done. 
Or  school,  I  see  again  my  Mother  stand. 
Smiling  at  me,  and  holding  out  her  hand. 

— Elaine  V.  Emans 


for   th  "««0fl     w:n ^ 

**><*  for  L."  rea<*er.     J***   setlt    ■ 

4J>  **■  y  %  **«<>£     <°J0  iff  *  Radio 
c7o«ed     *'  l7>  N.  y  '  *a*o  Af,     '  a°Q  ari 
^sed      ery  effort        ^er,  n     f°r'  205p 

^  e°ds  P*get  P°et'y  for^ 


EPITAPH  FOR  A  PAS  (T)  TIME 

In  the  bygone  days  when  a  man  could  glide 

Through  a  waltz  or  two  and  a  daring  dip, 
Or  a  fox  trot  paired  with  a  one-two-slide 

At  a  sweetly  easy  and  dreamy  clip; 
When  a  man  could  figure  on  ample  space 

For  his  gal  and  self  to  meander  in. 
The  art  of  dancing  was  subtle  grace  .  .  . 

And  you'd  find  me  out  for  a  trial  spin. 

But  I  learned  my  lesson  with  much  to  spare 

On  my  first  good  crack  at  the  modern  floor, 
When  they  finally  dragged  me  away  by  the  hair 

From  beneath  the  feet  of  some  forty-score; 
I  was  jittered  and  jived  into  black  and  blue 

And  wrestled  around  in  a  vicious  whirl 
Till  I  lost  all  track  of  the  time  and  view, 

And — oh,  where  are  you  now,  dear?— gyen  my 
-girl! 

Take  theuboogie-woogie  and  jumpin'  jive, 
Those  who  will  dare.   I'll  just  stay  alive. 

— S.  H.  Dewhurst 


*P 


CHILD  SWINGING 

Firm  hie  feet  on  the  swing-board  end; 
Sure  hit  knees  in  their  stretch  and  bend. 
Far  up  he  goes;  his  body  one 
With  sky  and  wind,  and  cloud  and  sun. 
Down  he  comes  with  reluctant  space 
Pulling  hard  at  his  hair  and  face. 
He  stops  in  effervescent  mirth 
And  staggers  on  the  steady  earth. 
— Enola  Chamberlin 


VACATION 

This  is  a  photograph  of  you, 

Warm  and  laughing,  lean  and  browned; 

This  I  .have,  and  a  ticket  stub, 

And  a  rusty  ring  from  a  merry-go-round. 

With  no  regrets  for  the  kiss  we  shared. 
Nor  the  tears  I  shed  when  we  came  to 

part, 
I  have  decided  it's  just  as  well 
That  I  had  no  room  to  pack  your  heart. 
— Harriet  Scott 


V 


-^w.V- 


m^m^* 


L.**.^" 


Radio  Mirrors  Prix*  Poem 
THE  NINTH  MONTH 

September  it  a  rtollion 

with  o  flowing,  town/  man*.     ^» 

who  hoi  never  known  a  bridU, 

nor  a  rider,  nor  a  rein: 

a  steed  of  bronie  and  omber 

who**    bright  hooves  strike  the   ground 

with'  a  sharp,  itoccato  rhythm 

and  on  icy,  ringing  sound. 

September  it  a  mustang 

from  wild,  untrammeled  skies 

who  gallops  down  the  earthways 

with   wind-enehonted   eyes. 

— Virginia  Moran  Evan* 


TO  A  LITTLE  GIRL  GROWING  UP 
(On   Having  Her  Dress  Let  Down) 

This  drees  ha*  faded  pinkish -white 

Ilk*  laurel  long  exposed  to  light — 

IU  ham,  let  down,  has  left  a  streak. 

As  pink  as  this  or  that  plump  cheek. 

Around  the  skirt.  It's  that  you  mind — 

Not  fadiness?  Why,  how  unkind — 

Foi  that  pink  streak  will  serve  to  show 

All  those  who  really  couldn't  know. 

When  it  wan  new.  your  dress 

Was  all  rose- loveliness  I 

Isn't  the  story  you  like  best — 

Better  than  "Snow  While"  and  the  rest — 

The  one  that  I  begin:  "When  I  was  small  like 

you?" —  0pr 

Well.  that's  a  pink  streak,  too. 
Or  so  it  seems. 

In  the  much  duller  stuff  of  dreams 
My  grown-up  sell  must  wear — 
So  there  I 

And,  really,  11  one  didn't  grow 
And  hems  were  kept  hemmed  up  just  so 
In  gowns  and  selves,  their  dawn-color  gone. 
Each  time  we  quietly  slipped  them  on. 
There  wouldn't  even  he— just  think — 
One  gay,  remembering  streak  of  pink! 

—Violet  Alleyn  Storey 


w      REGRESSION 

I  have  drawn  back  the  silver  veil  ol  years 
And  found  the  happy  town,  the   laughing 

street 
That  knew  me  as  a  child.  Oh,  I  have  stood 
Once  more  in  the  familiar  doorway  where 

the  sweet  * 
Clear  scent  of  lilacs  rides  astride  the  breeze 
To  call  and  reawaken  memories 
Long  laid  in  dust.  Oh,  I  have  walked 
The  garden  paths  again  and  I  have  talked 
To  old  acquaintances  and  frequented 
The  gay  familiar  haunts  of  long  ago 
And  yet  I  am  an  alien— alone — 
A  stranger  in  my  native  land.  I  know 
Man  may  retrace  the  steps  ol  any  Climb, 
Descent,    or    Distance — anything    but    Time. 
— Pegasus  Buchcroc 


THE  BOOK 

The  wtrVs  e  beet  te  small  boys  run- 
ning 
Pail  stream*  where  solemn  frees  ere 

tunning; 
Through  Held*  where  yellow  klng-cupt 

shout: 
"Whet's  the  hurry  ell  ebevt?" 
So  much  te  reed  In  earth's  thick  book, 
Se  flttte  time  to  step  and  leek 
At  all  the  wooden  printed  deep 
Upon  the  stay-  Tee  see*  will  sleep 

Make  reluctant  prisoners 
Of  these  ojuict-h  soled  geographers, 


Who  turn  earth's  multi-colored  pages. 
— Pauline  Hevard 


SONG  FOR  AN  OPEN  DOOR 

An  open  door  H  beautiful  to  me 

As  anything  in  houses,  whether  it 

Be  when  the  partem  of  it  lies,  tomp-lit,  atw* 

Along  the  velvet  gran,  or  when  1  tee 

The  morning  sun  flow  in  to  gild  a  floor. 

An  open  door  is  somehow  made  for  laughter 

And  song  to  drift  through,  and  one  looks  back  after 

Leave-taking,  glad  to  see  an  unthut  door. 

I  know  they  will  be  lovely  down  the  yean 

To  me  as  now,  all  opened  doors,  but  none 

Can  be  so  fair  as  that  one  which  appears 

In  sweet  remembrance  when,  my  journey  done. 

Or  school,  I  see  again  my  Mother  stand, 

5m Usui  at  me,  and  holding  out  her  hand. 

— Elaine  V.  Emans 


EPITAPH  FOR  A  PAS<T)TIME 

In  the  bygone  days  when  a  man  could  glide 

Through  a  waltz  or  two  and  a  daring  dip, 
Or   a   fox   trot   paired   with   a   one-two-slide 

At  a  sweetly  easy  and  dreamy  clip; 
When  a  man  could  figure  on  ample  space 

For  his  gal  and  self  to  meander  in. 
The  a«  of  dancing  was  subtle  grace  .  .  . 

And  you'd  find  me  out  for  a  trial  spin. 

But  I  learned  my  lesson  with  much  to  spare 

On  my  first  good  crack  at  the  modern  floor. 
When  they  finally  dragged  me  away  by  the  hair 

From  beneath  the  feet  of  some  forty-score; 
I  was  jittered  and  jived  into  black  and  blue 

And  wrestled  around  in  a  vicious  whirl 
Till  I  lost  all  track  of  the  time  and  view. 

And — oh,  where  are  you  now,  dear?-^jven  my 
girl! 

Take  the-Jroogie-woogie  and  jumpin'  jive. 
Those  who  will  dare.   I'll  just  stay  alive. 

— S.  H.  Dewhurel 


By 

» „„ .M 

"'"•loo. 

^stSi^^svSc 


CHILD  SWINGING 

Firm  his  feet  on  the  swine-beard  end; 
Sere  his  knees  in  their  stretch  and  bend. 
far  ep  he  goes;  his  body  one 
with  sky  and  wind,  and  cloud  and  sun. 
Down  he  comes  with  reluctant  space 
PulUng  hard  at  his  hair  and  face. 
He  steps  In  effervescent  mirth 
And  staggers  en  the  steady  earth. 

i  Chamberlln 


VACATION 

This,  is  |  photograph  of  you, 

Warm  and  laughing,  lean  and  browned: 

This  I  have,  und  a  ticket  Hub, 

And  a  rusty  ring  from  a  merry-go-round. 

With  no  regrets  for  the  kiss  w<     ill 
Nor  the  tears  I  shrd  when   wr  i   tn 

part, 
I  have  decided  il*>  just  u  well 
That  I  had  no  room  to  pack  youi  heart, 
—Hat n<  i 


M, 


gone — and  forward,  to  meet  the  challenge  in  tin 


r% 


Thor,  the  colossal  Great  Dane,  was  a  side- 
walk superintendent  as  Les,  jnaid  Mary 
Herman oski  and  Alice  turned  out  the  food. 


The  apartment 
shortage  kept 
the  Treroaynes 
in  one  room  un- 
til recently; 
that's  why  par- 
lies in  their 
big  new  place 
are  such  fnn. 


Come  on  over — Alice  Reinheart  and  Les  Tremayne 


Actress  Ethel  Owen's  new  white  hat  got  a  big  ova- 
tion from  Alice,  while  Les  greeted  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Ar- 
thur Kohl  (Arthur  is  Archie  Andrews'  radio  father; 
Ethel  Owen  is  heard  in  many  daytime  drama  roles). 


There's  a  whole  room  for  Les's  hobby — cameras. 
Alice  Frost  (radio's  Mrs.  North)  and  her  hus- 
band, ad-executive  Bill  Tuttle,  were  impressed 
by     Les's     work     and     equipment — both     excellent. 

Alice  Reinheart  la  Chichi  in  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  on 


9' 


omh. 


am  dt^ 

are  having  some  friends  in  for  an  informal  party.    They're  all  people  you  know 


Les's  hot  swing  records,  which  alternate  on  the  li- 
brary shelves  with  Alice's  classical  albums,  proved 
too  much  for  Hal  and  Gloria  Peary,  as  Les,  Alice, 
the  Kohls  and  actor  Ron  Rawson  looked  on,  enviously. 


The  ensemble:  Alice's  piano  (covered  with  a  fam- 
ily treasure,  a  priest's  robe  200  years  old) ;  Arthur, 
Gloria,  Hal,  Mrs.  Kohl,  Les.  But  those  are  not  the 
names    the    neighbors    called    them,    the    next    day! 


Any  party,  whether  it  be  on  Park  Avenue  in  New  York  City  (as  this  one  was)  or  on  Main  Street  in  Medicine  Hat,  has  one  higher- 
than-high  point:  the  eats.  Light  from  the  candlesticks  (a  gift  from  Ramon  Novarro)  falls  on  Alice's  prized  Wedgwood  china,  and  on 
the  handsome  cloth  that  was  hand-made  by  a  devoted  radio  listener.  And  Mary  decides  she'll  need  that  extra  platterful,  for  the 
company,    locust-wise,    is    clearing    the    table:    left    to    right    are    Ron,    Les,  Ethel,   Alice,   the   Tuttles,   the   Pearys,   the   Kohls. 

NBC;  Lea  Tremayne  is  heard  in  Adventures  of  The  Falcon  (MBS,  Mon.  nights  at  8  P.  M.  EDT)  and  in  Romance  (CBS,  Man.,  10:30  P.M.  EDT>. 


43 


People  in  love  must  have 


a  mutual  interest,  Charlene  had 


heard.    So  with  a  very  little,  a 


very  white  lie,  she  invented  one! 


WHEN  Bride  and  Groom  first  went  on  the  air,  we  thought 
it  would  be  interesting  to  arrange  a  set  of  master-files  on 
the  various  phases  of  courtship,  based  on  actual  experi- 
ences of  engaged  couples.  For  instance,  how  do  the  average 
boy  and  girl  meet?  What  is  the  usual  reason  for  their  falling  in 
love?  How,  and  under  what  circumstances,  does  the  boy 
usually  propose? 

Since  then,  we've  interviewed  several  thousand  couples,  on 
and  off  the  air,  but  we  still  don't  have  those  master-files.  In- 
stead, we  have  a  separate  file  for  each  couple,  and  a  thorough 
conviction  that  real-life  love  stories  just  can't  be  arranged 
into  classifications. 

The  way  in  which  boy  meets  girl,  for  example.  How  would 
you  classify  a  meeting  that  took  place  because  of  a  mouse  and 
a  five-dollar  bill?  It  happened  when  Monroe  Martin  was 
paying  his  breakfast  check  at  the  restaurant  where  Marjorie 
DeShazo  was  cashier.  The  mouse  chose  that  moment  to  stroll 
nonchalantly  onto  the  scene  and,  before  the  uproar  was  ended, 
Marjorie  and  Monroe  were  in  a  financial  argument.  Monroe 
insisted  that  he  had  given  her  a  ten-dollar  bill,  while  Marjorie 
was  just  as  certain  that  it  had  been  only  a  five-dollar  bill. 

To  prove  it,  Marjorie  indignantly  checked  her  cash-drawer 
— and  discovered  she  was  exactly  five  dollars  over.  At  the 
same  time,  Monroe  checked  his  wallet — and  discovered  he  still 
had  his  ten-dollar  bill!  They  never  did  figure  out  where  the 
extra  five  dollars  came  from,  but  they  compromised  by  using 
it  to  finance  their  first  date  together— which  led  eventually  to 
their  sharing   a   wedding   date   on    (Continued   on  page  74) 


OHN     NELSON 


Bride  and  Groom,  with  John  Nelson  as  master  of  ceremonies,  brings  love  stories  to 
the  proverbial  happy  ending  every  Monday  through  Friday  at  2:30,  EDT,  ABC  stations. 


enrolled  in  a  school  for  models  and  Ed  was  at 
_e  months  later,  with  the  help  of  Bride  and  Groo. 


<mA  a%cf\^vMnej(i 


People  in  love  must  have 
a  mutual  interest,  Charlene  had 
heard.    So  with  a  very  little,  a 
very  white  lie,  she  invented  one! 


w 


HEN  Bride  and  Groom  first  went  on  the  air,  we  thou  h 
it  would  be  interesting  to  arrange  a  set  of  master-files 
the  various  phases  of  courtship,  based  on  actual  expert" 
ences  of  engaged  couples.  For  instance,  how  do  the  avera/ 
boy  and  girl  meet?  What  is  the  usual  reason  for  their  falling; 
love?  How,  and  under  what  circumstances,  does  the  b  " 
usually  propose? 

Since  then,  we've  interviewed  several  thousand  couples  0 
and  off  the  air,  but  we  still  don't  have  those  master-fiies.  i-"1 
stead,  we  have  a  separate  file  for  each  couple,  and  a  thoroueh 
conviction  that  real-life  love  stories  just  can't  be  arranged 
into  classifications. 

The  way  in  which  boy  meets  girl,  for  example.  How  would 
you  classify  a  meeting  that  took  place  because  of  a  mouse  and 
a  five-dollar  bill?  It  happened  when  Monroe  Martin  wa 
paying  his  breakfast  check  at  the  restaurant  where  Marjor' 
DeShazo  was  cashier.  The  mouse  chose  that  moment  to  stroll 
nonchalantly  onto  the  scene  and,  before  the  uproar  was  ended 
Marjorie  and  Monroe  were  in  a  financial  argument.  Monro 
insisted  that  he  had  given  her  a  ten-dollar  bill,  while  Manor]6 
was  just  as  certain  that  it  had  been  only  a  five-dollar  bill 

To  prove  it,  Marjorie  indignantly  checked  her  cash -drawer 
— and  discovered  she  was  exactly  five  dollars  over.  At  th 
same  time,  Monroe  checked  his  wallet — and  discovered  he  still 
had  his  ten-dollar  bill!  They  never  did  figure  out  where  the 
extra  five  dollars  came  from,  but  they  compromised  by  usins 
it  to  finance  their  first  date  together— which  led  eventually  to 
their  sharing  a  wedding  date  on    (Continued   on  page  74) 


"We    art   well,   and    work   well,   together.'* 


The  best  way  to  fall  in 


love   is   not  to  know  it's   coming. 
Then  all  at  once,  there  you  are 
— and   (if  you're  as  lucky  as 
Betty  and  George)   it's  wonderful! 


46 


THE  life  we've  found  together  is  really  pretty  special — 
and  so  peculiarly  ours,  I'm  wondering  how  to  talk 
about  it.  .  .  . 

I'm  also  afraid  to  remember  how  close  we  came  to 
never  finding  our  love  at  all.  Or,  correction,  how  close 
I,  who  was  allergic  to  love,  came  to  passing  it  by. 

George's  story  is  that  the  instant  he  first  set  eyes  on 
me,  he  said,  "That's  for  me!"  I. tell  him  I  don't  believe 
him.  How  can  I  believe  him  when  he  describes  what 
I  was  wearing  all  wrong — proving,  doesn't  it,  that  he 
didn't  really  see  me  at  all?  He  insists  that  I  was  wear- 
ing a  brown  suit  with,  of  all  repulsive  combinations,  a 
black  and  white  checked  coat  and,  I'm  quoting  him, 
"The  most  vile  hat!" — when  actually  I  had  on  a  beige 
wool  dress,  what  I  thought  was  a  pretty  wonderful  hat 
and  no  coat  at  all! 

We  met,  strangely  enough,  in  the  studio  at  CBS,  the 
day  George  auditioned  for  the  part  of  Bill  Roberts  in 
our  Rosemary  show — the  part  he  got  and,  as  our  fans 
»  and  friends  know,  still  has. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  unpropitious  for  falling 
in  love,  so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  than  to  meet  another 
young  man  auditioning  for  the  part  of  Bill.  We  had  been 
auditioning  young  men  and  not-so-young  men  all  week 
long  and  I  was  young-men  happy.  To  me,  George  was 
just  another  young  man,  another  young  man  in  uniform 
(this  was  1945  and  George,  still  in  the  Army — just  back, 
in  fact,  from  overseas)  so,  barely  glancing  at  him  I  said, 
riffling  the  pages  of  the  script,  "Okay,  let's  go.  .  .  ." 

But  when  we  started  to  read  together  I  realized  that 
with  this  young  man  there  was  a  mature  interpretation 
of  the  script — and,  for  me,  there  was  something  more. 
There  was  a  fine  point,  here,  of  relationship  in  acting. 

In  good  acting,  in  proper  acting,  when  you  read  a 
script  with  someone,  you  establish  a  relationship  with 
him.  Usually,  however,  actors  are  so  nervous  while 
auditioning  that  they  are  thinking  only  of  their  lines, 
only  of  themselves  and  not  at  all  of  you.  But  with 
George,  it  was  different.  It  was  the  difference  between 
making  contact  and  not  makihg  contact.  In  other  words, 
I  felt  that  George  related  to  me  and  I,  to  him. 

.  .  .  but  only  as  Rosemary  and  Bill.  .  .  . 

After  the  audition,  I  congratulated  him  and  we  went 
our  separate  ways.  If  I'd  thought  about  him  at  all, 
which  I  didn't,  I'd  have  said  that  young  Mr.  Keane's 
lack  of  interest  in  me  matched,  nicely,  my  lack  of  in- 
terest in  him.  He  didn't  even  say  he  hoped  he'd  see  me 
again  "some  day."  He'll  tell  you  now,  "I  didn't  try.  I 
didn't  even  try.  I  just  bided  my  time." 

That  he  did. 

"I  kissed  her  in  a  taxicab  on  Thanksgiving  Day,  1945" 
is  George's  line-a-day  in  his  diary  for  Thanksgiving 
Day  of  1945. 

So  he  did. 

We  had  been  working  together,  by  that  time,  for  about 
two  months  and  never  an  "ask"  for  a  date;  never  a 
gleam    in    George's    eyes.     Then,    suddenly,    after    the 


! 


Thanksgiving  broadcast,  "Let's  go  around  the  corner 
and  have  something  to  eat,"  said  George  to  me — and  to 
Dodi  Yeats,  who  was  the  director  of  our  show  at  that 
time.  At  Louis  and  Armand's,  the  little  restaurant 
around  the  corner  from  CBS,  we  had  a  holiday  egg- 
nogg.  Then  Dodie  had  to  leave  us.  I  was  going  on  for 
dinner  at  the  Millard  LampelTs  (Millard,  as  you  know, 
wrote  The  Long  Way  Home)  and  after  a  bit  of  talk 
which,  for  all  the  personal  touch  it  had,  might  have 
been  broadcast  over  the  networks,  George  put  me  in  a 
cab.  Just  as  the  cab  started  to  pull  away,  he  quickly 
leaned  in — and  kissed  me. 

It  made  me  feel  very  warm  and  nice,  that  kiss — very 
nice  and  warm  but  nothing  more.  I  know,  now,  that  I 
underestimated  its  significance,  but  at  the  time— -well, 
after  all,  it  was  a  holiday  and  men  who  had  been~  over- 
seas were  pretty  sentimental,  I  knew,  about  holidays. 
So  it  didn't  particularly  surprise  me.  Putting  it  down 
as  just  one  of  those  things,  I  quickly  dismissed  it  from 
my  mind. 

It  was,  as  I  recall  it,  another  two  months  before  George 
again  indicated  that  I  was  in  his  (Continued  on  page  92) 


c*> 


By 

BETTY 
WINKLER 


/, 


"After  the  weekend 
we  spent  with  Elaine 
Carrington,  -he  mar- 
ried u~  in  the  script!5" 


Betty  Winkler  and  George  Keane 
are  heard  in  Rosemary,  Mon.-Fri. 
at  11:45  A.M.  EDT,  CBS  stations. 


*<_4  :  *    •■     ' 


V 


Tex  McCrary  and  his  wife,  Jinx  Falkenburg,  run  Tex- 
Jinx  Productions  in  N.Y.  In  Manhasset,  they  just  live. 


Jinx,  who   used  to  be   America's  foremost  model, 
poses     for     distinguished     painter     Moses     Soyer. 


IN  THE  East  Sixties  in  New  York  there  is  a  brown- 
stone  house  that  has  been  converted  into  handsome 

offices.  You  go  up  two  flights  of  stairs,  carpeted  in 
emerald  green,  and  come  to  a  door  that  says,  in  very- 
small  print,  "Tex-Jinx  Productions."  Inside  is  a  set  of 
rooms  done  in  the  most  attractive  modern  style.  The  first 
is  studded  with  four  little  desks  of  blond  wood,  deep 
leather  chairs,  and  stunning  drapes.  The  main  room 
is  outstanding  for  its  use  of  color  and  the  fact  that  it  is 
built  around  a  fabulous  television  set  in  a  custom-made 
cabinet.  Off  this  is  a  small  private  office  done  in  cocoa 
brown  but  dominated  by  a  cherry-red  sofa — one  of  those 
long,  flat  jobs  in  heavy  weave  material. 

All  this  gives  a  picture  of  the  workshop  in  which  is 
conducted  one  of  the  most  successful  partnerships  today 
— Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tex  McCrary — successful  in  marriage, 
family,  radio  and  television,  they  go.  at  a  dizzy  pace,  so 
they  are  very  grateful  for  their  office-haven.  Their  home 
is  out  in  Manhasset,  Long  Island,  and  they  manage  to 
keep  it  completely  free  from  business. 

Although  they  are  doing  seven  radio  shows  a  week — 
their  early  morning  show  six  times  and,  of  course,  they 
are  the  summer  replacement  for  Duffy's  Tavern  every 
Wednesday  night,  it  was  television  we  wanted  to  talk 
about,  and  Tex  was  only  too  happy  to  comply.  Jinx 
lets  him  do  most  of  the  talking— displaying  a  great  deal 
more  wifeliness  than  most  less  glamorous,  less  famous 
fraus. 

To  the  all-important  question  about  what  was  wrong 
with  television  today,  Tex  answered  a  surprising,  "Noth- 
ing." But  then  he  went  on  to  say  he  meant  nothing  that 
some  real  showmanship  wouldn't  cure.  According  to  Tex, 


48 


RADIO 


M    I    R    R   O 


ductwns 


,^1^ '  » *i»  l«fe 


Al  Jalson  is  an  old  friend:  Jinx  was  in  "Hold  On 
to  Your  Hats"  with  him  when  she  first  met  Tex. 


Production  HQ  is  a  New 
York  brownstone:  guest 
Sonja  Henie  (r)  can  stay 
to  tea  when  Tex,  Jinx 
and  engineer  let  her  "off 
duty"      after      broadcast. 


television  is  now  being  run  mainly  by  engineers,  sales- 
men, and  advertising  agencies.  His  big.  hope  is  that 
people  like  Rogers  and  Hammerstein,  George  Abbot, 
David  Selznick,  Irving  Berlin,  Sam  Goldwyn  and  other 
famous  showmen  will  come  into  the  field  and  do  for  it 
what  they've  done  for  the  theater,  radio,  and  movies. 

"I  think  one  of  the  best  things  that  could  happen  to 
video  is  to  have  Bing  Crosby  produce*  a  show  of  his  own 
— built  around  himself — on  film.  In  short,  do  in  tele- 
vision what  he  did  in  radio." 

Did  that  mean  that  in  his  opinion  only  big  names  like 
Crosby  would  shine  on  tele?  What  about  new  talent — 
did  he  think  there  would  be  opportunities  for  them? 

"Enormous  opportunities  for  new  people — I  mention 
Crosby  because  he  could  do  so  much  for  the  medium, 
but  he  is  an  exception.  There  are  only  a  few  big  name 
stars  who  could  afford  to  go  into  it.  You  have  to  be  at 
the  very  top,  have  reserve  capital,  and  a  tax  situation 
which  not  only  permits  but  almost  demands  that  you 
operate  something  at  a  loss.  Despite  their  big  salaries 
there  are  mighty  few  big  name  stars  in  that  position." 

Tex  is  cooking  up  an  extremely  interesting  tele  show 


that  promises  much  good  televiewing.  It  is  a  visual 
newspaper — an  hour  show  with  Tex  as  Editor-in-Chief; 
Dave  Sherman — former  editor  of  Life  magazine's 
"Speaking  of  Pictures" — as  managing  editor;  and  Barry 
Lohman  as  woman's  page  editor.  Jinx  will  be  a  reporter 
assigned  to  Miss  Lohman  and  a  camera  will  follow  her 
while  she  gets  her  story.  Fifty  percent  of  every  show 
will  be  on  film.  When  I  cautiously  suggested  that  that 
was  expensive,  Tex  looked  pleased  with  himself  and 
said  he  had  a  way  of  getting  around  that.  He  is  even 
planning  a  "Junior  Edition"  built  around  the  McCrary- 
Falkenburg  son,  two-year-old  Paddy.  They  want  to  do 
this  show  at  9:00  o'clock  on  Sunday  mornings.  It  would 
feature  all  kinds  of  entertainment  aimed  at  the  very 
young,  plus  a  view  of  the  reactions  of  Paddy  and  his 
little  friends. 

Tex  was  getting  so  enthusiastic  about  video  that  I 
popped  the  $64  question,  to  wit:  "Are  you  interested 
in  television  to  a  point  that  you  will  exclude  all  radio 
broadcasting  eventually?" 

"Absolutely — as  soon  as  we  really  get  going  in  tele- 
vision, we'll  devote  ourselves  (Continued  on  page  83) 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


49 


ff 


[EIGH-HO,  Everybody"— that  greeting  will  go 
down  as  one  of  the  most  famous  in  the  his- 
tory of  radio.  For  twenty  years  radio  fans 
recognized  those  words  as  meaning  that  Rudy 
Vallee  was  on  the  air,  and  they  were  going  to  be 
entertained!  Twenty  years  ago,  Rudy  stepped  be- 
fore a  microphone  in  the  smart  and  expensive 
night  spot,  the  Heigh-Ho  Club,  in  New  York,  and 
there  was  born  the  greeting  of  the  same  name  and 
a  fabulous  radio  career.  Since  that  night  back  in 
February  of  1928,  Vallee  has  become  something  of 
an  American  phenomenon  in  the  field  of  enter- 
tainment. Singers,  comedians  and  actors  have 
flared  into  fame  and  then  fallen  by  the  wayside, 
but  Vallee  goes  on  and  on. 

So,  when  the  almost  legendary  Rudy  Vallee 
announces  that  he  will  henceforth  devote  himself 
to  television,  that  bears  investigation.  Rudy  is  now 
busily  engaged  in  the  production  of  a  series  of 
half-hour  comedy-dramas  written,  directed,  en- 
acted and  photographed  (he'll  put  everything  on 
film)  exclusively  for  TV.  The  first,  a  satire  on  the 
importance  of  college  football,  titled  "College 
Days,"  has  been  completed  for  several  months. 
Vallee,  producer,  director  and  star  of  the  TV  pic- 
ture, has  studded  the  cast  with  such  well  known 
laugh  getters  as  Charlie  Cantor,  Lionel  Stander 
and  Maurice  Cass.  And  for  a  touch  of  glamor, 
Vallee  has  co-starred  Lorry  Raine,  a  new  singing 
discovery.  The  company  has  started  its  third  half- 
hour  film  already  and  present  plans  call  for  the 
making  of  a  series  of  twenty-five  of  these  half- 
hour  video  programs.  (Continued  on  page  84) 


;v 


<^i 


Here's  the  Vallee-Video 
group :  Maurice  Cass, 
Lorry  Raine,  Lionel 
Stander,  Rudy  himself, 
Charles  Cantor.  They 
plan  25  half-hour  tele- 
films; three  of  them 
are  already  completed. 


RADIO! 


B 


oovway 


M.C.  of  WABD's  Doorway  to 
Fame  is  Johnny  Olsen,  of 
Ladies      Be      Seated     fame. 


Cooperating  in  Doorway 
to.  Fame's  tele-talent 
search  is  Radio  Mirror; 
when  you  view  the  show 
watch  for  Joan  Lloyd, 
our     television     editor. 


AS  MANY  viewers  of  the  stations  of  the  WABD 
network  already  know,  Radio  and  Television  Mir- 
ror in  the  person  of  its  television  editor,  Joan 
Murphy  Lloyd,  has  begun  a  new  and  more  active  in- 
terest in  television — cooperation  in  the  production  of 
WABD's  Doorway  to  Fame  program  and  its  search  for 
new  television  talent. 

The  hand,  which,  so  to  speak,  opens  the  Doorway  to 
Fame  each  Monday  night  at  seven  on  Dumont  Network 
stations,  is  Johnny  Olsen's.  Radio  listeners  remember 
him  as  "that  wonderful  m.c.  on  Ladies  Be  Seated,  who 
laughs  with  you,  not  at  you!" 

Johnny  made  his  radio  debut  at  seventeen  as  the 
"Buttermilk  Kid"  on  a  Madison,  Wisconsin,  station,  and 
at  eighteen  achieved  the  distinction  of  being  the 
youngest  radio  station  manager  in  the  country.  His 
next  move  was  to  organize  a  dance  band.  Soon  after- 
ward Chicago  radio  beckoned;  then  Hollywood,  then 
New  York  and  Ladies  Be  Seated. 

Johnny  is  the  youngest  of  ten  children  in  a  Minnesota 
family — and  perhaps  its  that  big  family  which  accounts 
for  his  generous  understanding  of  people,  his  kindliness 
and  sympathy  toward  contestants  on  his  programs.  He's 
happily   married   to   that   same   "Penny"   whom   radio 


audiences  knew  as  his  assistant  for  many  years.  He 
stands  five  feet  ten,  has  blue  eyes,  dark  brown  hair,  and 
is  stockily  built.  His  hobby  is  recording,  and  in  the 
Olson  household  you'll  always  find,  according  to  that 
happy  Scandinavian  custom,  the  coffee  pot  bubbling 
merrily  on  the  stove. 

At  the  present  time,  Johnny  is  a  show  business  triple- 
threat  man,  entertaining  radio,  stage  and  television 
audiences.  His  MBS  Movie  Matinee  is  heard  every  after- 
noon direct  from  the  stage  of  the  Palace  Theater  in  New 
York;  his  ABC  Rumpus  Room  for  stay-up-laters  is 
heard  six  nights  a  week;  and  he  is  seen  and  heard  on 
Doorway  to  Fame,  which  presents  to  television  viewers 
talented  people  who  have  made  their  mark  in  other 
fields,  but  who  are  new  to  television  audiences. 

Seen  and  heard  with  him  nowadays  on  Doorway  to 
Fame  is  Joan  Murphy  Lloyd,  for  Dumont  Television 
and  Radio  and  Television  Mirror  have  combined 
efforts,  through  the  program,  to  conduct  a  large-scale 
search  for  new  and  better  talent  for  video  viewers.  Next 
month,  this  department  will  reveal  plans  for  a  new  kind 
of  talent  hunt,  in  which  the  readers  of  the  magazine  and 
the  audience  of  the  program  will  be  asked  to  participate. 
Be  watching  for  it! 


I    R    R    O    R 


TELEVISION       SECTION 


51 


HEIGH-HO,  Everybody"— that  greeting  will  go 
down  as  one  of  the  most  famous  in  the  his- 
tory of  radio.  For  twenty  years  radio  fans 
recognized  those  words  as  meaning  that  Rudy 
Vallee  was  on  the  air,  and  they  were  going  to  be 
entertained!  Twenty  years  ago,  Rudy  stepped  be- 
fore a  microphone  in  the  smart  and  expensive 
night  spot,  the  Heigh-Ho  Club,  in  New  York,  and 
there  was  born  the  greeting  of  the  same  name  and 
a  fabulous  radio  career.  Since  that  night  back  in 
February  of  1928,  Vallee  has  become  something  of 
an  American  phenomenon  in  the  field  of  enter- 
tainment. Singers,  comedians  and  actors  have 
flared  into  fame  and  then  fallen  by  the  wayside, 
but  Vallee  goes  on  and  on. 

So,  when  the  almost  legendary  Rudy  Vallee 
announces  that  he  will  henceforth  devote  himself 
to  television,  that  bears  investigation.  Rudy  is  now 
busily  engaged  in  the  production  of  a  series  of 
half-hour  comedy-dramas  written,  directed,  en- 
acted and  photographed  (he'll  put  everything  on 
film)  exclusively  for  TV.  The  first,  a  satire  on  the 
importance  of  college  football,  titled  "College 
Days,"  has  been  completed  for  several  months. 
Vallee,  producer,  director  and  star  of  the  TV  pic- 
ture, has  studded  the  cast  with  such  well  known 
laugh  getters  as  Charlie  Cantor,  Lionel  Stander 
and  Maurice  Cass.  And  for  a  touch  of  glamor, 
Vallee  has  co-starred  Lorry  Raine,  a  new  singing 
discovery.  The  company  has  started  its  third  half- 
hour  film  already  and  present  plans  call  for  the 
making  of  a  series  of  twenty-five  of  these  half- 
hour  video  programs.  (Continued  on  page  84) 


Doorway  15  EMI 


AS  MANY  viewers  of  the  stations  of  the  WABD 
network  already  know,  Radio  and  Television  Mir- 
ror in  the  person  of  its  television  editor,  Joan 
Murphy  Lloyd,  has  begun  a  new  and  more  active  in- 
terest in  television — cooperation  in  the  production  of 
WABD's  Doorway  to  Fame  program  and  its  search  for 
new  television  talent. 

The  hand,  which,  so  to  speak,  opens  the  Doorway  to 
Fame  each  Monday  night  at  seven  on  Dumont  Network 
stations,  is  Johnny  Olsen's.  Radio  listeners  remember 
him  as  "that  wonderful  m.c.  on  Ladies  Be  Seated,  who 
laughs  with  you,  not  at  you!" 

Johnny  made  his  radio  debut  at  seventeen  as  the 
"Buttermilk  Kid"  on  a  Madison,  Wisconsin,  station,  and 
at  eighteen  achieved  the  distinction  of  being  the 
youngest  radio  station  manager  in  the  country.  His 
next  move  was  to  organize  a  dance  band.  Soon  after- 
ward Chicago  radio  beckoned;  then  Hollywood,  then 
New  York  and  Ladies  Be  Seated. 

Johnny  is  the  youngest  of  ten  children  in  a  Minnesota 
family — and  perhaps  its  that  big  family  which  accounts 
for  his  generous  understanding  of  people,  his  kindliness 
and  sympathy  toward  contestants  on  his  programs.  He's 
happily   married   to   that   same   "Penny"   whom   radio 


M.C.  of  WABD'a  Doorway  to 
Fame  is  Johnny  Olsen,  of 
Ladies      Be      Seated      fame. 


Cooperating  in  Doorway 
to.  Fame's  tele-talent 
search  is  Radio  Mirror; 
when  you  view  the  show 
watch  for  Joan  Lloyd, 
our     television     editor. 


audiences  knew  as  his  assistant  for  many  years.  He 
stands  five  feet  ten,  has  blue  eyes,  dark  brown  hair,  and 
is  stockily  built.  His  hobby  is  recording,  and  in  the 
Olson  household  you'll  always  find,  according  to  that 
happy  Scandinavian  custom,  the  coffee  pot  bubbling 
merrily  on  the  stove. 

At  the  present  time,  Johnny  is  a  show  business  triple- 
threat  man,  entertaining  radio,  stage  and  television 
audiences.  His  MBS  Movie  Matinee  is  heard  every  after- 
noon direct  from  the  stage  of  the  Palace  Theater  in  New 
York;  his  ABC  Rumpus  Room  for  stay- up- late rs  is 
heard  six  nights  a  week;  and  he  is  seen  and  heard  on 
Doorway  to  Fame,  which  presents  to  television  viewers 
talented  people  who  have  made  their  mark  in  other 
fields,  but  who  are  new  to  television  audiences. 

Seen  and  heard  with  him  nowadays  on  Doorway  to 
Fame  is  Joan  Murphy  Lloyd,  for  Dumont  Television 
and  Radio  and  Television  Mirror  have  combined 
efforts,  through  the  program,  to  conduct  a  large-scale 
search  for  new  and  better  talent  for  video  viewers.  Next 
month,  this  department  will  reveal  plans  for  a  new  kind 
of  talent  hunt,  in  which  the  readers  of  the  magazine  and 
the  audience  of  the  program  will  be  asked  to  participate. 
Be  watching  for  it! 


MJR  r  o  r 


TELEVISION       SEC    T    I    0    N 


Soda  vendor  at  the  bad 


park  to  "The  Nation's  Number  One 


Sportscaster" — with  time 


out  in  between  to  get  his  degree 


in  law!  That's  the  Allen  story 


PICTURE  of  a  very  good  guy:    a  bachelor  at  thirty-five,  a 
lawyer   (though  he  doesn't  work  at  it),  a  fellow  whose 

fayorite  cuss  words  are  "Dad  Gum,"  whose  height  of 
vituperation  is  "I  could  spit!",  whose  greatest  loves  are  base- 
ball and  his  two-year-old  niece  and  baseball  and  seafood  and 
baseball  and  movies  and  baseball  and  more  baseball! 

That's  Mel  Allen,  the  Voice  of  the  New  York  Yankees, 
whose  broadcasts  of  Yankee  home  and  road  baseball  games 
over  Radio  Station  WINS  have  won  him  the  designation  of 
the  Nation's  Number  One  Sports  Broadcaster. 

Mel's  first  participation  in  big  league  ball  was  a  passive  one. 
At  the  age  of  thirteen  he  managed  to  get  himself  a  job  as  a 
soft-drink  butcher  at,  the  ball  park  in  Detroit.  But  the  job 
didn't  last  long — Mel  was  much  too  interested  in  watching 
the  Tigers  to  be  a  howling  success  at  peddling  soda  pop,  and 
he  was  fired. 

Born  in  Alabama,  Mel  spent  most  of  his  life  there,  with  the 
exception  of  that  year  in  Detroit,  another  in  Toledo,  and 
three  years  in  the  pay  of  Uncle  Sam,  until,  in  1937,  he  was 
called  to  CBS  in  New  York  for  an  audition,  and  became  a 
member  of  the  announcing  staff  there.  Broadcasting  expe- 
rience prior  to  that  had  been  play-by-play  descriptions  of  the 
University  of  Alabama  and  Auburn  football  games.  That  job 
had  been  a  normal  follow-up  to  Mel's  college  days,  for  be- 
fore graduating  from  the  U.  of  Alabama  Law  School  in  1935, 
he  was  sports  editor  of  the  university  newspaper  and  annual, 
and  manager  of  the  baseball  team. 

Allen  fives  with  his  mother  and  father  in  Fieldston,  at  the 
northern  tip  of  the  island  of  Manhattan,  where  there's  still 
a  lot  of  country  left.  He's  the  sort  of  stay-up-late  addict  who 
gets  into  his  pajamas  at  ten  o'clock,  announces,  "Well,  I  need 
a  good  night's  sleep,"  and  is  still  awake  and  going  strong  at 
3  A'.M.  The  neighborhood  movies — his  mother  is  his  favorite 
date — take  up  a  good  deal  of  his  time,  and  if  there's  a  double 
feature  playing,  so  much  the  better.  Apple  of  his  eye  is  his 
next-favorite  date,  Risa,  very  young  daughter  of  Mel's  sister, 
Esther.  Brother  Larry,  who  also  lives  at  home,  is  Mel's 
statistician,  and  works  with  Allen  and  Russ  Hodges  at  the 
WINS  microphone  during  Yankee  games. 

It's  Russ  Hodges,  who  knows  Mel  so  well  from  long  and 
close  association  at  these  games,  who  can  give  the  best  insight 
into  the  Allen  personality,  for  Mel  himself  is  reserved  on  the 
subject  of  personal  data. 

"Allen?"  says  Hodges.  "As  grand  a  man  to  work  with,  to  be 
associated  with,  to  know,  as  you  will  find  from  one  Portland 
to  the  other!" 

Of  course,  Yankee  games  don't  take  all  Mel's  time,  especially 
out  of  season.  There  are  World  Series  games,  too,  and,  in  the 
winter,  his  own  disc  jockey  show  on  WINS  as  well,  to  keep 
him  a  busy  guy  the  whole  year  around. 


3k*  *' 


o^ 


*'• tf*" 


01* 


4n 


,trl^ 


^>" 


,<^C 


it-** 


Ar* 


«r 


t^p 


#*♦ 


By 

TOMMY 

BARTLETI 


YOUNG  David  Leadinghouse  wastes  no  dreaming  time 
on  buried  gold  and  pirate  treasure.    Strictly  1948  in 

his  approach  to  high  adventure,  the  fifteen-year-old 
student  follows  the  contests. 

Because  he  does,  his  lovely  mother,  Florence — Mrs. 
William  John  Leadinghouse — became  our  Traveler  of 
the  Month  and  winner  of  Procter  and  Gamble's  Hidden 
City  prize  that  makes  a  miser's  hoard  seem  small  change. 

Although  it  was  Florence  who  carried  the  $25,000  check 
home  to  their  five-room  apartment  at  1429  Edgewater 
Avenue,  Chicago,  her  husband  Bill,  and  her  sons  David 
and  Jack  all  had  a  part  of  winning  it.  For  the  Leading- 
house  family  has  a  habit  of  doing  things  together.   When 


Tommy  Bartlett,  spon- 
sor's representative 
H.  E.  Purcell,  and  gro- 
cer Henry  Jung  all  had 
a  share  in  Florence 
Leadinghouse's  big  day.  % 


From  lb*  file*  of  Welcome  Traveler*   (12  Noon, 


54 


their  varied  interests  keep  them  from  home  at  dinner 
time,  Florence  doesn't  fuss  too  much.  She's  a  bit  more 
tolerant  than  the  average  wife  and  mother  about  the 
touchy  subject  of  serving  meals  on  time.  She  knows  it 
won't  be  long  until  one  of  her  menfolk  comes  in  shouting 
"Let's  play  golf,"  "Let's  go  fishing,"  or  "Let's  work  a 
contest." 

At  fifty,  Florence  Leadinghouse  is  the  kind  of  woman 
who  fits  into  that  active  life.  Smoothly  coifed  gray  hair 
frames  her  unlined,  youthful  face.  Her  quiet  reserve 
scarcely  masks  a  bubbling  sense  of  humor. 

With  both  her  husband  and  her  sons,  she's  the  girl  they 
best  like  having  around,  for  she  maintains  a  fine  balance 


of  femininity  and  independence.  She  may  expect  them 
to  bait  her  hook  when  they  fish,  but  she  can  also  sock  a 
golf  ball  down  the  fairway  with  such  accuracy  that  she 
keeps  the  family  foursome  interesting. 

For  Florence,  this  pattern  of  zestful  living  began  in  a 
big,  rambling  house  in  Morgan  Park,  a  suburb  of  Chicago. 
Her  father,  George  Sjoerdsma,  a  landscape  artist,  was 
once  one  of  the  country's  largest  importers  of  Holland 
bulbs,  and  Florence,  as  a  child,  helped  care  for  the  acres 
of  tulips  which  flanked  their  home. 

Much  as  she  loved  her  family,  she  had  the  Hollander's 
desire  to  stand  on  her  own  two  feet.  Being  independent 
was  part  of  growing  up.  Florence  became  a  secretary  in 
a  Loop  office,  and  in  the  early  twenties  moved  to  Chicago 
where  she  shared  the  giggling  gaiety  of  the  group  of 
career  girls  who  roomed  at  a  widow's  home. 

Every  night  was  date  night  for  some  one  in  the  crowd. 
Girlish  boasts  about  a  couple  of  "just  wonderful  young 
men"  piqued  her  curiosity.  Frankly  admitting  she,  too, 
wanted  to  see  them,  Florence  donned  a  maid's  uniform 
and  answered  the  door.  But  her  disguise  scarcely  lasted 
through  the  first  meeting,  for  one  was  a  lad  from  Ohio, 
just  starting  a  radio  and  sporting  goods  store.  It  wasn't 
long  before  he  became  her  best  beau.  In  1926,  Florence 
Sjoerdsma  and  William  John  Leadinghouse  were  married. 

Because  they  didn't  want  their  son  to  carry  a  life-long 
tag  of  "Junior",  the  young  couple  reversed  the  order  of 
the  father's  names — called  their  first-born  John  William, 
and  promptly  shortened  it  to  Jack. 

When  their  second  boy  arrived  five  years  later,  Jack 
had  a  voice  in  family  conferences.  He  adored  a  Milt 
Gross  comic  strip  character  called  Dave  and  demanded 
his  parents  name  the  baby  for  his  hero.  Florence  and 
Bill  laughed  at  first,  then  realized  David  was  a  good, 
solid  Biblical  name  a  boy  could  live  with.  Jack  had  his 
way.   He  named  his  brother  David. 

Jack,  now  twenty,  has  a  couple  of  terms  of  North- 
western University  journalism  classes  to  his  academic 
credit,  some  short  stories  started,  and  draws  his  paycheck 
from  Kemper  Insurance  Company. 

At  fifteen,  David  wants  to  be  a  big  league  baseball 
player,  and  already  shows  signs  of  being  a  good  provider. 
He  likes  to  do  the  family  shopping  at  the  Hollywood  IGA 
Food  Market  where  his  friend  Henry  Jung  keeps  Jr. 
informed  of  both  the  best  food  buys  and  the  current  con- 
tests sponsored  by  manufacturers. 

Says  Florence,  "We  kid  Dave  about  bringing  home 
entry  blanks,  but  we  all  end  up  having  fun  working  them 
out.  If  I  happen  to  have  the  products  in  the  house,  we 
tear  off  a  label  and  send  in  our  (Continued  on  page  70) 


Monday  through  Friday  on  ABC)  come  the  stories  which  M.C.  Tommy  Bartlett  retells  eachmonth  for  Radio  Mirr 


55 


1 1 


1 


^ 


'     tr*' 


31*  * 


0rv' 


tU». 


i/c 


V 


,*< 


,Ue' 


maveleM 


YOUNG  David  Leadinghouse  wastes  no  dreaming  time 
or.  buried  gold  and  pirate  treasure.  Strictly  1948  in 
his  approach  to  high  adventure,  the  fifteen-year-old 

^^X'^tetely  mother,  Florence-Mrs. 
William  John  Leadinghouse-became  our  Traveler  of 
the  Month  and  winner  of  Procter  and  Gambles  Hidden 
City  prize  that  makes  a  miser  s  ho^^m  l™^^ 
Although  it  was  Florence  who  carried  the  $25,000  check 
home  to  their  five-room  apartment  at  1429  Edgewater 
Avenue  Chicago,  her  husband  Bill,  and  her  sons  David 
and  Jack  all  had  a  part  of  winning  it.  For  the  Leadmg- 
house  family  has  a  habit  of  doing  things  together.  When 


l"f         CM  - 


Tommy  Bartlett,  spon- 
sor^ representative 
H.  E.  Purcell.  and  gro- 
cer Henry  Jung  all  had 
a  share  in  Florence 
Leadinghouse^  big  day.% 


By 

TOMMY 

BARTLETT 


their  varied  interests  keep  them  from  home  at  dinner 
time,  Florence  doesn't  fuss  too  much.  She's  a  bit  more 
tolerant  than  the  average  wife  and  mother  about  the 
touchy  subject  of  serving  meals  on  time.  She  knows  it 
won't  be  long  until  one  of  her  menfolk  comes  in  shouting 
"Let's  play  golf,"  "Let's  go  fishing,"  or  "Let's  work  a 
contest." 

At  fifty,  Florence  Leadinghouse  is  the  kind  of  woman 
who  fits  into  that  active  life.  Smoothly  coifed  gray  hair 
frames  her  unlined,  youthful  face.  Her  quiet  reserve 
scarcely  masks  a  bubbling  sense  of  humor. 

With  both  her  husband  and  her  sons,  she's  the  girl  they 
best  like  having  around,  for  she  maintains  a  fine  balance 


of  femininity  and  independence.  She  may  export  thorn 
to  bait  her  hook  when  they  fish,  but  .slu-  can  also  sock  -i 
golf  ball  down  the  fairway  with  such  accuracy  thai  six- 
keeps  the  family  foursome  interesting 

For  Florence,  this  pattern  of  zestful  living  beg;m  In  .1 
big,  rambling  house  in  Morgan  Park,  a  suburb  of  Chicago, 
Her  father,  George  Sjoerdsma,  a  landscape  artist,  was 
once  one  of  the  country's  largest  importers  of  Holland 
bulbs,  and  Florence,  as  a  child,  helped  care  for  the  acne 
of  tulips  which  flanked  their  home. 

Much  as  she  loved  her  family,  she  had  the  Hollander's 
desire  to  stand  on  her  own  two  feet.  Bein>;  Independent 
was  part  of  growing  up.  Florence  became  a  secretary  in 
a  Loop  office,  and  in  the  early  twenties  moved  to  Chicago 
where  she  shared  the  giggling  gaiety  of  the  group  of 
career  girls  who  roomed  at  a  widow's  home. 

Every  night  was  date  night  for  some  one  in  the  crowd. 
Girlish  boasts  about  a  couple  of  "just  wonderful  young 
men"  piqued  her  curiosity.  Frankly  admitting  she,  too, 
wanted  to  see  them,  Florence  donned  a  maid's  uniform 
and  answered  the  door.  But  her  disguise  scarcely  lasted 
through  the  first  meeting,  for  one  was  a  lad  from  Ohio, 
just  starting  a  radio  and  sporting  goods  store.  It  wasn't 
long  before  he  became  her  best  beau.  In  1926,  Florence 
Sjoerdsma  and  William  John  Leadinghouse  ware  married. 

Because  they  didn't  want  their  son  to  carry  a  life-long 
tag  of  "Junior",  the  young  couple  reversed  the  order  <>( 
the  father's  names — called  their  first-born  John  William, 
and  promptly  shortened  it  to  Jack. 

When  their  second  boy  arrived  five  yean  later,  Jack 
had  a  voice  in  family  conferences.  He  adored  a  Milt 
Gross  comic  strip  character  called  Dave  and  demanded 
his  parents  name  the  baby  for  his  hero.  Florence  and 
Bill  laughed  at  first,  then  realized  David  was  a  good, 
solid  Biblical  name  a  boy  could  live  with.  Jack  had  his 
way.   He  named  his  brother  David. 

Jack,  now  twenty,  has  a  couple  of  terms  of  North- 
western University  journalism  classes  to  his  academli 
credit,  some  short  stories  started,  and  draws  his  paycheck 
from  Kemper  Insurance  Company. 

At  fifteen,  David  wants  to  be  a  big  league  ba  bal 
player,  and  already  shows  signs  of  being  a  good  provide] 
He  likes  to  do  the  family  shopping  at  the  Hollywood  IGA 
Food  Market  where  his  friend  Henry  Jung  keept  Jl 
informed  of  both  the  best  food  buys  and  the  curmit  run 
tests  sponsored  by  manufacturers. 

Says  Florence,  "We  kid  Dave  about  bringing  home 
entry  blanks,  but  we  all  end  up  having  fun  working  them 
out.  If  I  happen  to  have  the  products  m  the  house,  wc 
tear  off  a  label  and  send  in  our  (Continued  on  page  70) 


Pro-.  lb«  Um  ol  W«1com>  Travolm   112  Noon, 


ond.y  tbrrxilh   Prio-r  on  ABC)   - 


,  tk.  .tori-  -W*  M,C  T«.-T  B*mI...  ««ll.  «*— *  '"<  *■*"  M" 


w#eeatu{A 


Ruth  and  Hoagy's  off-again,  on-again  romance  Worried  col- 
umnists till  Wine  hell  formally  "engaged"  them  on  the  air. 


Hoagy  is  "Sawdust" — nobody  knows  why — to  Randy  Bob,  seven,  and  Hoagy  Bix, 
nine.    He's  also  a  big  help  when  one  of  the  "Small  Fry"  machines  gives  out. 


Hoagy's  still  got  Indiana  in  his  soul.  "But 


By  PAULINE 


ANEW  television  station  opened 
in  Hollywood  the  other  day 
and  the  top  stars  of  screen 
and  radio  were  on  hand  to  partici- 
pate in  the  dedication  ceremonies. 

Along  about  midway  in  the  gala 
three  hour  program,  the  master 
of  ceremonies  drew  a  long  breath 
and  announced: 

"Comes  now  one  of  the  most 
versatile  young  stars  in  Holly- 
wood— song  writer,  recording  ar- 
tist, star  of  his  own  radio  show, 
now  a  comedy  sensation  in  the 
movies — Hoagy    Carmichael!" 

"Man,"  Hoagy  said,  ambling  to 
the  microphone,  "that  introduc- 
tion makes  me  feel  old." 

The  first  of  the  five  thousand 
times  he  had  heard  himself  de- 
scribed as  versatile,  he  explained 


"The  fellow  who  wrote  Star  Dust"  is  entitled  to  hang  ont 
his  shingle  as  a  lawyer.    He's  still  surprised  about  that. 


Beverly  Hills  isn't  bad,  as   a   substitute.' 


Hoagy  wore  himself   out  trying   to   keep   up   with   his   energetic   sons, 
finally  hired  a  physical  trainer  named  "Skeeter"  to  help  wear  them  out. 


SWANSON 


later,  was  twenty  years  ago  when 
he  surprised  everyone — including 
himself — by  passing  the  bar  and 
hanging  out  a  shingle  as  a  lawyer. 

This  business  of  studying  law 
was  never  Hoagy's  idea,  but  his 
father's.  The  elder  Carmichael — 
an  electrician — had  held  out  for 
a  "respectable"  profession  for  his 
day-dreaming  son  long  after  it 
was  apparent  that  Hoagy's  real 
interest  was  in  music. 

That  Hoagy  spent  more  time 
mooning  over  the  piano  in  the 
Book  Nook,  the  Indiana  Univer- 
sity student  hang- out,  than  in 
the  library  over  his  law  books, 
didn't  alarm  his  father  so  long  as 
his  son  made  passing  marks  in  his 
"serious"  studies.  Hoagy's  dance 
band,  which  was  an  Indiana  in- 


Ituih  .mi]  flongy'l  offagflln,  on-ogatn  romance  worried  col 
UDDllU  lill  Winchrll  formally  "engaged"  them  on  the  air, 


Bfaogj  U  "Sawdust"     nobody  knows  why— to  Randy  Bob,  seven,  and  Hoagy  Bix, 
• Be'l  iil»»  .1   Ink  help  when  one  of  the  "Small  Fry"  machines  gives  oat. 


Hoagy's  atill  got  Indiana  in  his  soul.  "Bat 


By  PAULINE 


ANEW  television  station  opened 
In  Hollywood  the  other  day 
and  the  top  stars  of  screen 
and  radio  were  on  hand  to  partici- 
pate in  the  dedication  ceremonies. 

Along  about  midway  in  the  gala 
three  hour  program,  the  master 
of  ceremonies  drew  a  long  breath 
and  announced: 

"Comes  now  one  of  the  most 
versatile  young  stars  in  Holly- 
wood— song  writer,  recording  ar- 
tist, star  of  his  own  radio  show, 
now  a  comedy  sensation  in  the 
movies — Hoagy   Carmichael!" 

"Man,"  Hoagy  said,  ambling  to 
the  microphone,  "that  introduc- 
tion makes  me  feel  old." 

The  first  of  the  five  thousand 
times  he  had  heard  himself  de- 
scribed as  versatile,  he  explained 


Beverly  Bills   isn't   bad,  as   a   substitute." 


SWANSON 


later,  was  twenty  years  ago  when 
he  surprised  everyone — including 
himself — by  passing  the  bar  and 
hanging  out  a  shingle  as  a  lawyer. 

This  business  of  studying  law 
was  never  Hoagy's  idea,  but  his 
father's.  The  elder  Carmichael — 
an  electrician — had  held  out  for 
a  "respectable"  profession  for  his 
day-dreaming  son  long  after  it 
was  apparent  that  Hoagy's  real 
interest  was  in  music. 

That  Hoagy  spent  more  time 
mooning  over  the  piano  in  the 
Book  Nook,  the  Indiana  Univer- 
sity student  hang-out,  than  in 
the  library  over  his  law  books, 
didn't  alarm  his  father  so  long  as 
bis  son  made  passing  marks  in  his 
"serious"  studies.  Hoagy's  dance 
band,  which  was  an  Indiana  in- 


"The  fellow  who  wrote  Slnr  Dust"  i»  eniiili'd  to  hang  out 
hi*  shingle  ss  a  lawyer.    He*>  still  inrpriied  iboal   ili-u. 

Hoagy    wore   himself   out   trying    lo    Leep    up    with    bia    UMfgotk    lODJ, 
finally  hired  a  physical  trainer  named  "Skcctcr"  lo  help  wear  lh«m  out. 


The   internal  workings   of  Stardust  House  are  managed 
by  the  Carmichael's  English  housekeeper,  Ada  Dockery. 


Songa  l>y  Hoagy  Carmichael  may  be  heard 
Saturdays    on    CBS,    at    7i45    P.M.     EOT. 


stitution,  was  acceptable  to  the  home  folks  because  it 
helped  to  pay  the  freight  for  an  expensive  legal  edu- 
cation. As  for  the  songs  he  was  already  beginning 
to  put  down  on  paper — well,  his  parents  said,  it's 
always  nice  to  have  a  hobby. 

Hoagy's  college  pals — and  his  professors — were 
more  realistic  about  what  was  a  hobby  with  the  boy. 
It  was  only  when  he  passed  the  bar  that  they  tagged 
him  as  versatile. 

He  was  a  little  surprised  himself.  So  surprised 
that  he  snooted  a  remarkably  flattering  offer — for  a 
non-pro — to  come  to  New  York  as  staff  composer  for 
a  big  song  publishing  house,  and  set  himself  up 
instead  in  a  law  office  in  West  Palm  Beach,  Florida. 

For  a  year  and  a  half  he  played  lawyer,  "with  a 
straight  face,"  he  recalls.  He  made  a  good  enough 
living,  taking  on  civil  damage  suits  on  a  percentage 
basis.    But  he  was  bored. 

One  spring-fever  day  he  leaned  out  of  his  open 
office  window  for  a  whiff  of  air,  and  heard  a  tune — 
strangely  familiar — coming  from  the  music  store 
across  the  street.  He  put  on  his  hat,  locked  the  office 
and  went  over  there.  The  tune  was  familiar — it  was 
his  own  "Washboard  Blues,"  newly  recorded  by  the 
top  band  of  the  day,  Red  Nichols  and  his  Five 
Pennies. 

"I'll  buy  that,"  Hoagy  said,  meaning  the  record, 
and  more. 

If  his  stuff  was  good  enough  for  Red  Nichols,  he 


Friends  never  telephone:  they  just  come.    "It's  a  party," 


58 


knew  he  was  wasting  his  time  in  West  Palm  Beach. 
He  took  the  night  train  for  New  York,  and  the  music 
business. 

It  would  be  a  shorter  story  if  one  could  say  here 
that  from  this  point  everything  was  clover.  It  wasn't. 
Hoagy  had  the  songs,  but  important  ears  weren't 
ready  to  hear  them. 

He  made  his  first  trip  to  Hollywood  in  1929,  to  try 
to  interest  Paul  Whiteman — who  was  about  to  film 
"King  of  Jazz" — in  two  of  his  new  numbers.  He 
couldn't  sell  either  one  of  them:  "Old  Rockin'  Chair," 
and  "Star  Dust." 

"Star  Dust"  had  come  out  of  a  sentimental  pil- 
grimage to  the  Indiana  campus  the  summer  after  he 
turned  his  back  on  the  law.  He  had  wandered  into 
the  Book  Nook — quiet,  uncrowded  now,  his  old 
friends  all  gone — and  had  sat  down  at  the  piano  on 
which  every  scar  was  familiar. 

Idly,  he  played  a  few  notes  .  .  .  there  they  were 
again. 

He  pushed  the  bench  back,  began  to  stroll  away. 
As  he  walked  he  whistled.  It  was  the  rest  of  the 
tune.  He  went  back  to  the  piano  and  scribbled  the 
whole  thing  down. 

As  everybody  knows,  Paul  Whiteman  missed  a  bet 
with  that  one. 

Among  the  old  college  pals  Hoagy  ran  into  at  jam 
sessions  that  summer  in  Indiana  was  Helen  Menardi. 

Helen  had  written  a  few  (Continued  on  page  85) 


On  the  spread  in  Hoagy's  otherwise  tailored  room,  his 
mother  has  embroidered  the  opening  bars  of  "Star  Dust." 


'•(Mil 


The  concert  grand  in  the  living  room,  Hoagy  explains,  is  for  "fun."    Work  is 
something   else,  and   is   done  in   the  workroom   on  a  beat-up   studio   upright. 


Hoagy  says — and  it  is,  when  he's  around. 


The  internal  workings  of  Stardust  House  are  managed 
by  the  Carmichuel's  English  housekeeper,  Ada  Dockery. 


Song*  by  Hongy  Carmlohael  may  be  beard 
Saturday!   on    CBS,   at    7.45    P.M.    EOT. 


stitution,  was  acceptable  to  the  home  folks  because  it 
helped  to  pay  the  freight  for  an  expensive  legal  edu- 
cation. As  for  the  songs  he  was  already  beginning 
to  put  down  on  paper— well,  his  parents  said,  it's 
always  nice  to  have  a  hobby. 

Hoagy's  college  pals — and  his  professors— were 
more  realistic  about  what  was  a  hobby  with  the  boy 
It  was  only  when  he  passed  the  bar  that  they  tagged 
him  as  versatile. 

He  was  a  little  surprised  himself.  So  surprised 
that  he  snooted  a  remarkably  flattering  offer— for  a 
non-pro— to  come  to  New  York  as  staff  composer  for 
a  big  song  publishing  house,  and  set  himself  up 
instead  in  a  law  office  in  West  Palm  Beach,  Florida. 

For  a  year  and  a  half  he  played  lawyer,  "with  a 
straight  face,"  he  recalls.  He  made  a  good  enough 
living,  taking  on  civil  damage  suits  on  a  percentage 
basis.    But  he  was  bored. 

One  spring-fever  day  he  leaned  out  of  his  open 
office  window  for  a  whiff  of  air,  and  heard  a  tune- 
strangely  familiar — coming  from  the  music  store 
across  the  street.  He  put  on  his  hat,  locked  the  office 
and  went  over  there.  The  tune  was  familiar— it  was 
his  own  "Washboard  Blues,"  newly  recorded  by  the 
top  band  of  the  day,  Red  Nichols  and  his  Five 
Pennies. 

"I'll  buy  that,"  Hoagy  said,  meaning  the  record, 
.  and  more. 

If  his  stuff  was  good  enough  for  Red  Nichols,  he 


knew  he  was  wasting  his  time  in  West  Palm  Beach. 
He  took  the  night  train  for  New  York,  and  the  music 
business. 

It  would  be  a  shorter  story  if  one  could  say  here 
that  from  this  point  everything  was  clover.  It  wasn't. 
Hoagy  had  the  songs,  but  important  ears  weren't 
ready  to  hear  them. 

He  made  his  first  trip  to  Hollywood  in  1929,  to  try 
to  interest  Paul  Whiteman— who  was  about  to  film 
"King  of  Jazz" — in  two  of  his  new  numbers.  He 
couldn't  sell  either  one  of  them:  "Old  Rockin'  Chair," 
and  "Star  Dust." 

"Star  Dust"  had  come  out  of  a  sentimental  pil- 
grimage to  the  Indiana  campus  the  summer  after  he 
turned  his  back  on  the  law.  He  had  wandered  into 
the  Book  Nook — quiet,  uncrowded  now,  his  old 
friends  all  gone — and  had  sat  down  at  the  piano  on 
which  every  scar  was  familiar. 

Idly,  he  played  a  few  notes  .  .  .  there  they  were 
again. 

He  pushed  the  bench  back,  began  to  stroll  away. 
As  he  walked  he  whistled.  It  was  the  rest  of  the 
tune.  He  went  back  to  the  piano  and  scribbled  the 
whole  thing  down. 

As  everybody  knows,  Paul  Whiteman  missed  a  bet 
with  that  one. 

Among  the  old  college  pals  Hoagy  ran  into  at  jam 
sessions  that  summer  in  Indiana  was  Helen  Menardi. 

Helen  had  written  a  few  (Continued  on  page  85) 


-iT- 

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1       '  -       -   -■■                                                                            LaH 

■H|      1 

38£p£ 

On  the  spread  in  Hoagy's  otherwise  tailored  room,  hie 
mother  has  embroidered  the  opening  bars  of  "Star  Dust." 

Friends  never  telephone:  they  just  come.   "It's  a  Par1'' 


when  he's  around. 


The  concert  grand 

n  the  living  room,  ] 

loagy  explains,  is  (or  "fun."   Work  is 

something 

else,  and  is  done  in  the  workroom  on  a  beat-up  studio  upright. 

1 1 

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WHEN  I  am  tired,  a  big  fruit  salad  just  seems 
to  hit  the  spot.  I  don't  seem  to  want  a  lot 
of  heavy  food — or  a  lot  of  heavy  work.  So 
I  buy  an  assortment  of  fruits,  cut  them  up,  and 
dunk  them  in  citrus  fruit  juice  to  keep  them 
from  darkening.  Then  I  chill  them  thoroughly, 
pile  on  crisp  lettuce — and  it's  as  pretty  as  a 
picture! 

I  have  several  special  dressings  I  like  to  serve 
with  my  fruit  salads.  French  dressing  and  may- 
onnaise are  always  good,  but  so  is  variety. 
Several  of  my  favorites  are  included  here. 
They'll  give  salads  a  "new  look"  and  a  new 
taste. 

Since  I  make  it  a  rule  never  to  let  a  meal  go 
by  without  serving  at  least  one  warm  food,  my 
choice  is  hot  biscuits  or  popovers.  Here  are 
my  special  cheese  and  watercress  biscuits  too. 

Cheese  Biscuits 


%  cup  grated  American 

cheese 
%  cup  shortening 
%  cup  milk 


2  cups  sifted  all  purpose 
flour 

3  teaspoons  baking 
powder 

1  teaspoon  salt 

Sift  together  dry  ingredients,  stir  in  cheese. 
Cut  in  shortening  until  well  mixed.  Add  milk, 
stirring  quickly  until  a  soft  but  not  sticky  dough 
is  formed.  Turn  out  on  lightly  floured  board. 
Shape  into  a  smooth  ball;  roll  lightly  or  pat 
out  to  1-inch  thick.  Cut  out  rounds  with  a 
floured  biscuit  cutter.  Place  on  lightly  greased 
baking  sheet  V2  inch  apart  if  you  like  a  biscuit 
with  crusty  sides.  Put  them  close  together  for 
a  tall  soft-sided  biscuit.  Bake  in  a  very  hot 
oven  (450°  F.)  for  12  to  15  minutes.  Makes  12 
two-inch  biscuits. 

Watercress  Biscuits 

Add  Vz  cup  finely  chopped  watercress  to  flour- 
shortening  mixture,  instead  of  the  cheese. 
Serve  with  salads  and  meat  stews. 


Warm  weather  is  light-eating  weather. 
Fruit  salads  fill  the  bill;  they're 
crisp    and    cool    and    picture-pretty. 


By 

KA1E  SMITH 

Listen  each  Monday 
through  Friday  at 
noon  when  Kate  Smith 
Speaks,      on       (MBS 


RADIO    MIRROR 

FOOD    COUNSELOR 


Minted    Fruit    Salad 


%  cup  diced  fresh 

pineapple 
34  cup  sliced  bananas 
%  cup  cubed  oranges  or 

peaches 
%  cup  cantaloupe  balls 
%  cup  watermelon  balls 
%  cup  honey  dew  balls 


1  apple  diced 

2  avocados,   peeled   and 
sliced 

1  cup  pineapple  or  orange 
juice 

mayonnaise 
mint  sprigs 
watercress 
lettuce 


Lightly  combine  pineapple,  bananas,  oranges, 
cantaloupe,  watermelon,  honey  dew,  apple  and 
avocado.  Pour  juice  over  fruit.  Chill  thorough- 
ly in  refrigerator.  To  serve,  drain  off  juice, 
lightly  mix  with  mint  and  watercress.  Place 
on  lettuce,  serve  with  mayonnaise.  Makes  6 
servings. 

Frozen  Fruit  Salad 


3V2  tablespoons  flour 
3  tablespoons  sugar 

1  teaspoon  salt 

¥3  teaspoon  paprika 
few  grains  cayenne 

2  egg  yolks,  well  beaten 
%  cup  milk 

1  tablespoon    melted 
butter 


V3  cup  lemon  juice 
V4  cup  orange  section 
V4  cup  cherries 
V4  cup  pineapple 
V4  cup  sliced  bananas 
1  cup  heavy  cream, 

whipped 

lettuce 

mayonnaise 


Mix  flour,  sugar  and  seasonings  in  top  of 
double  boiler;  add  egg  yolks.  Gradually  stir 
in  milk.  Place  over  hot  water  and  cook,  stirring 
constantly  until  mixture  thickens.  Add  butter 
and  lemon  juice.  Turn  into  a  bowl  and  beat  for 
2  minutes  then  cool.  Cut  fruits  into  small  pieces 
and  add  to  cooked  mixture;  fold  in  whipped 
cream.  Turn  into  freezing  tray  of  refrigerator 
and  freeze  for  3  to  4  hours,  or  until  firm.  Cut 
in  slices  and  top  with  mayonnaise.  Makes  6 
to  8  servings.  (Continued  on  page  78) 


RADIO   MIRROR   FOR   BETTER   LIVING 


61 


endmati  cannot '  cwwa/ub  ue  Aad  uw-  me  ah/cma. 


*jVot  mmn  vm 


THE  WAY  the  Barbour  family  lives,"  said  Teddy,  "—and 
the  other  Americans  equally  fortunate — is  a  fairy 
story,  a  beautiful  dream,  a  gorgeous,  gilded,  story-book 
existence." 

"That's  the  way  I  felt  about  all  of  America  when  I  first 
came  to  the  United  States,"  said  Nicolette.  "When  I  saw 
all  the  good  things,  I  became  a  citizen — poof! — quick  like 
that!" 

"It's  a  by-product,"  said  Paul,  smiling  at  Teddy  across 
Nicolette.  "The  way  of  living  of  the  average  American 
family  is  as  much  a  by-product  of  our  kind  of  life  as  are 
automobiles  and  radios  and  this  very  plane." 

They  were  on  their  way  home.  The  roar  of  the  big  plane 
was  in  their  ears,  so  that  they  had  to  speak  through  it, 
shaping  their  words  clearly.  Below  them  was  the  Atlantic; 
behind  them,  Germany.  In  the  rear  of  the  plane  was  the 
sleeping,  blanket-wrapped  form  of  Patricia  Baldwin,  who 
had  been  the  object  of  Paul  and  Nicolette's  secret,  govern- 
ment-ordered search  in  Germany.  Teddy  had  helped  them 
find  her;  now  Teddy  was  returning  with  them  to  care  for 
Patricia  on  the  trip  and  thereafter  to  take  a  vacation  from 
her  work  as  a  Red  Cross  nurse.    Paul  and  Nicolette  were 


well  pleased  with  the  arrangement;  only  Teddy  was  re- 
luctant— strangely  so,  for  a  girl  who  had  been  so  long 
away  from  home. 

"All  I  know  is,"  she  went  on  through  the  roar  of  the 
motors,  "I  get  a  tremendous  satisfaction  out  of  stuffing  food 
into  starving  babies,  shooting  vitamins  into  under-fed 
mothers  .  .  .  the  kind  of  uplifting  satisfaction  I  never  had 
at  home,  taking  the  pulse  of  Mrs.  Goldbottom,  in  the  hos- 
pital with  a  liver'  after  having  stuffed  herself  like  a 
holiday  goose.  Or  Mr.  Business  Executive  who's  got  ulcers 
from  making  too  much  money — " 

"More  likely  he  got  them  trying  to  save  some  of  it  from 
a  predatory  government,"  Paul  interrupted  lightly.  But 
there  was  no  stopping  Teddy. 

"Okay,"  she  agreed,  "so  he  got  them  worrying  over 
taxes.  I'd  like  him  a  lot  better  if  he  got  his  ulcers  worrying 
because  Palestine  may  die  in  the  agony  of  being  born, 
because  the  face  of  Western  Europe  is  going  through  some 
plastic  surgery  which  could  easily  change  its  former 
friendly  expression." 

Paul  turned  to  Nicolette,  palms  upturned  helplessly. 
"Well,  Nicolette,  you  see  the  kind  of  daughter  I  raised." 


62 


\oa\exte 


For  the  first  time  in 
story  form  Radio  Mir- 
ror's Header  Bonus  pre- 
sents, complete  in  this 
issue,  the  story  of  Paul 
and  Nicolette  as  heard 
on  One  Man's  Family. 
(Program  time :  Sun., 
3:30  EDT,  NBC.) 


W 


ttm  wAo  nod  loved  aA  miw/i,  mid  Seen  ab  lonelu,  ab  ^Jaid and \/Vlcciefte 


**•'  ^am^  Ib"""  Bi°'«".  Di,  Davi, 

B""m  r«*—*  -  tST^T  *"  •""•- 

y    (W"»fred    Wolfe). 


"For  which  you  should  be  very  proud,"  said  Nicolette 
warmly.    "A  thinking,  responsible,  loving  daughter — " 

Paul  chose  to  take  it  personally.  "No,"  he  said,  thinking 
of  Teddy's  determination  to  return  to  her  work  in  Germany 
as  soon  as  possible,  "I  don't  think  she  cares  much  for  us 
any  more." 

If  he  had  slapped  Teddy,  the  result  could  not  have  been 
more  electric.  She  gasped  and  went  pale,  and  her  eyes 
widened  as  if  to  hold  back  tears.  "Paul,"  she  said  in  a  low, 
thick  voice,  "I — I  think  that's  the  worst  thing  you've  ever 
said  to  me.  I- -excuse  me — I've  got  to  see  how  Patricia 
Baldwin  is  resting — " 

Paul  started  up  and  would  have  followed  her,  but 
Nicolette  put  her  hand  on  his  arm.  "Let  her  go,"  she  said 
softly.   "Let  her  find  self-control  by  herself." 

Paul  sat  down,  and  stared  at  her  in  bewilderment.  "But 
what  did  I  say9"  he  demanded  to  know. 

Nicolette  laughed  "You  are  stupid,  aren't  you?  All  men 
are  stupid  about  women.  I  think.    Teddy  loves  you." 


"Of  course  she  loves  me,"  he  snapped.  "I  adopted  her 
when  she  was  eight  years  old.   I've  been  a  father  to  her — " 

"I  didn't  mean  that  she  loves  you  as  a  father." 

Paul  looked  at  her,  and  away,  and  back  again,  still  unbe- 
lieving. "Nicolette  are  you  crazy?"  he  burst  out.  "First 
Teddy  tells  me  you're  in  love  with  me — oh,  yes  she  did, 
while  we  were  waiting  for  you  that  last  day  in  that  cottage 
in  Nurnberg.  Then  she  tells  me  that  I'm  in  love  with  you 
.  .  .  and  now  you  tell  me  Teddy's  in  love  with  me — " 

Nicolette  was  unruffled.  "Why  else  has  she  never  mar- 
ried another  man?  Surely  she's  had  the  opportunity.  Why 
else  did  she  leave  your — the  Barbour — roof  and  devote  her 
life  to  serving  humanity?  Why  all  that — if  it  wasn't  to  find 
an  outlet,  a  relief  in  physical  effort  for  the  passionate  devo- 
tion she  has  for  you?" 

He  believed  her  now,  and  immediately  she  felt  terribly 
sorry  for  him  He  looked  stricken.  "Never  in  nry  most 
secret  thinking.  .  .  Nicolette,  I  swear  to  you  that  Teddy 
has  never  been  anything  but  a  daughter  to  me — " 


63 


64 


PAUL  and  NICOLETTE 


"Do  not  you  think  I  know  that?"  she  said  gently. 
"Paul,  it  is  only  when  a  man  does  not  love  a  woman 
that  he  is  so  blind  he  cannot  see  the  woman's  affection. 
She'll  probably  not  thank  me  for  telling  you,  but  I 
couldn't  let  you  go  on  being  so  blind — hurting  her,  and 
not  knowing  why.  You  think  about  it."  She  rose,  touch- 
ing him  lightly  on  the  shoulder.  "I'm  going  back  and 
see  if  I  can  be  of  help  with  Patricia  Baldwin — and  per- 
haps help  Teddy  herself." 

She  made  her  way  to  the  rear  of  the  plane,  found 
Teddy  crouched  beside  her  charge,  for  all  the  world  like 
an  animal  that  had  crept  away  to  lick  its  wounds  in 
secret. 

"Still  sleeping,"  she  said  in  response  to  Nicolette's  in- 
quiring look.  "She's  so  exhausted  she  still  doesn't  know 
that  she's  on  a  plane  within  six  or  seven  hours  of  New 
York.  Nicolette,  will  the  facts  of  her  rescue  ever  be 
made  public?" 

"No  more  than  the  facts  of  her  kidnapping  will  ever 
be  told."  Nicolette  shook  her  head.  "Ah,  she  is  a  pretty 
child — such  a  gentle,  good,  wholesome  face — " 

Teddy  said  bitterly,  "The  face  of  all  America  once 
upon  a  time.  Before  all  the  world  began  to — "  She 
stopped,  went  on  with  even  greater  bitterness,  "Teddy, 
stop  it!  You  sound  like  an  idiot  schoolgirl  bemoaning 
the  fact  that  she  doesn't  have  a  date  for  Saturday  night. 
Nicolette,  I'm  sorry — I  made  an  awful  fool  of  myself  out 
there  in  front  of  you  and  Paul." 

"Don't  be  sorry,"  said  Nicolette.  "Teddy,  I  wish  you 
would  stop  hurting  yourself  this  way.  Don't  keep  whip- 
ping yourself.  I  know  you  feel  that  you  are  Paul's 
daughter,  but  you  don't  love  him  as  a  daughter,  and 
that  makes  you  feel  that  there  must  be  something  ter- 
ribly unhealthy  in  yourself.  Well,  look  at  it  this  way — 
you're  not  his  daughter.  Circumstances  made  it  possible 
and  necessary  for  him  to  give  you  a  father's  care,  but 
he's  no  more  related  to  you  actually  than  he  is  to  me." 

"The  law  says — "  Teddy  began. 

"The  law  says  you  must  not  marry,  but  believe  me, 
Teddy,  if  there  had  never  been  any  adoption  papers 
signed,  the  law  would  have  no  objection  at  all  to  your 
marrying  Paul.  So  you  see,  all  that  stands  between  you 
and  your  love  is  a  signature  at  the  bottom  of  a  piece  of 
paper.  Is  that  anything  for  a  girl  to  condemn  herself 
with?  So  you  can't  marry  him — but  you  enjoy  him, 
enjoy  yourself;  you  can  love  him  completely,  whole- 
heartedly, without  feeling  this  terrible  guilt  you've  piled 
on  yourself." 

Teddy's  eyes  were  fixed  upon  her  face.  There  was 
hope  in  them  now,  and  admiration.  How  could  she  know 
so  much,  Teddy  wondered — this  woman  with  the  wise 
eyes  and  the  quick  smile  and  the  delicately  accented 
speech?  She  was  like  Paul;  she  understood  more  of  you 
than  you  understood  yourself. 

"Nicolette,  you — you  make  me  feel — I  feel  free,  almost 
human."  And  then,  breathless  with  her  anxiety  to  have 
everything  clear  between  them,  she  cried,  "Oh,  I  hope 
you  didn't  think  I  was  ever  resentful  of  you  and  Paul! 
I  never  felt  that  way.  I — I'm  glad  you're  in  love  with 
each  other." 

Laughter  welled  up  in  Nicolette;  she  stifled  it  quickly. 
The  girl  was  so  deadly  earnest,  so  genuinely  troubled. 
"Teddy,"  she  said  as  earnestly,  "let  me  tell  you  some- 
thing. Paul  and  I  have  never  once  in  our  entire  rela- 
tionship discussed  the  subject  of  love,  of  our  feelings 
toward  each  other.  I  do  not  know  about  Paul,  but  for 
certain,  if  you  know  that  I'm  in  love  with  him,  you  know 
more  than  I  know.  Now  let's  go  back  to  him  and  put 
him  at  his  ease  by  letting  him  see  that  you  are  really 
all  right." 

Teddy  shook  her  head,  but  smiled  reassuringly  at 
Nicolette.    "In  a  little  while.   You  go  ahead." 

Nicolette  left.  Teddy  gazed  after  the  sturdy  figure  in 
the  plain,  practical  traveling  suit  and  low-heeled  shoes. 
All  those  weeks  together,  she  thought,  and  never  a  word 
of  their  feeling  for  each  other  between  them?  That  the 
feeling  was  there  no  one  who  saw  them  together  could 
doubt.  Talk  and  ideas  leaped  between  them  like  fire 
feeding  flame.  And  in  the  cottage  they  had  shared  in 
Nurnberg,  she  had  been  with  each  of  them  while  the 
other  was  out  on  an  errand  that  could  easily  be  danger- 
ous; she  had  seen  each  consult  a  watch  every  few  min- 
utes until  the  other  returned. 

Made  for  each  other.  A  worn  expression,  but  one  that 
applied  to  Paul  and  Nicolette.   They  were  both  citizens 


Minetta  Ellen  and  J.  Anthony  Smythe  played  husband- 
and-wife  in  Oakland  stock  company  productions  before 
becoming    Mother    and   Father   Barbour   of    the   Family. 


of  the  world,  in  the  best  meaning  of  the  words.  Nico- 
lette, born  in  Central  Europe,  had  seen  her  husband  shot 
by  a  firing  squad  at  the  order  of  a  political  assassin. 
Paul  had  lost  his  World  War  One  bride  of  two  weeks  in 
an  epidemic  that  swept  through  the  little  French  hos- 
pital like  fire  in  a  field,  and  after  that  there  had  never 
been  anyone  else  for  him  .  .  .  until  now. 

They  had  to  wake  up  to  themselves,  Teddy  thought. 
They  must  be  made  to  see  all  they  had,  and  could  so 
easily  lose.  The  opportunity  lay  directly  ahead.  Paul 
had  invited  Nicolette  to  stay  with  him  at  the  family 
house  at  Sea  Cliff  until  her  next  government  orders 
came  through,  and  she  had  accepted.  Never  mind  the 
ache  in  Teddy's  own  heart.  Never  mind  the  feeling  that 
an  axe  hung  by  a  thread  over  her,  and  that  the  kindest 
thing  she  could  do  for  herself  would  be  to  cut  the  thread. 

They  reached  San  Francisco  late  on  a  cold  and  dreary 
Saturday  afternoon.  "Good  enough,"  said  Paul,  speaking 
of  the  day  and  the  weather.  "Even  the  kids  ought  to  be 
on  hand  to  welcome  us  on  a  day  like  this.  We'll  surprise 
them — take  a  taxi  and  be  home  in  no  time."  At  the 
word  'home'  the  three  exchanged  secret,  sober  smiles. 
This  was  America.  Cold  didn't  matter  here,  as  it  had 
in  the  frigid  cottage  in  Nurnberg.  Here  there  was  plenty 
of  fuel  for  furnaces,  plenty  of  wood  for  the  hearth-fires 
at  Sea  Cliff. 

On  the  way  out  Paul  and  Teddy  briefed  Nicolette  on 
the  family,  although  she  had  heard  much  about  them 
and  had  met  Claudia  and  Clifford  the  summer  before  at 
Sky  Ranch.  First  there  were  Father  and  Mother  Bar- 
bour, whose  big  house  was  the  gathering  point  of  their 
children  and  grandchildren.  Then  there  was  Hazel, 
oldest  of  the  children  next  to  Paul,  and  her  husband, 
Dan  Murray,  and  her  teen-age  boys,  Hank  and  Pinky, 
and  her  young  daughter,  Margaret,  Father  Barbour's 
favorite  grandchild.  There  was  Claudia,  beautiful  wife 
of  Nicholas  Lacey  and  mother  of  fifteen-year-old  Joan 
and  young  Penelope,  and,  at  present,  foster-mother  of 
her  widowed  brother  Clifford's  young  Skippy.  Youngest 
of  the  Barbour  children  was  Jack,  whose  family  was 
composed  of  his  wife,  Betty,  and  their  three  small  daugh- 
ters, born  so  close  together  that  they  were  like  steps. 

Paul  proved  to  be  an  accurate  prophet.  With  the  ex- 
ception of  Clifford  and  Claudia,  who  were  at  Sky  Ranch, 
most  of  the  family  was  at  the  Barbour  house.  Those  who 
were  near  by,  in  their  neighboring  houses,  were  quickly 


summoned.  The  reunion  was  explosive. 
It  would  have  been  enough  to  see  Paul 
alone,  but  that  Teddy  should  be  with  him 
after  her  long  absence  seemed  little  short 
of  a  miracle. 

Through  it  all,  Teddy  stayed  close  to 
Nicolette,  anxious  to  see  that  she  wasn't 
forgotten  in  the  excitement.  She  need  not 
have  worried;  Nicolette  was  at  home  any- 
where, and  everyone  liked  her  on  sight. 
Everyone,  that  is,  but  Father  Barbour. 

He  embraced  Teddy  and  Paul  with  tears 
in  his  eyes,  but  clearly,  he  thought  that 
this  ought  to  be  a  family  reunion,  with  no 
outsiders  included.  "Nicolette?"  he  in- 
quired testily.  "Haven't  I  heard  that  name 
before?" 

"You  may  have,  father,"  Hazel  answered.  "She's 
been  Paul's  traveling  companion  in  South  America,  the 
African  Gold  Coast,  and  Central  Europe." 

"Traveling  companion!"  he  ejaculated  in  a  voice  quite 
loud  enough  for  Nicolette  to  hear.  And  when  they  were 
introduced,  he  stared  suspiciously  at  her  from  under  his 
heavy  brows  and  barked,  "Eh?  Are  you  speaking  with  a 
dialect?" 

Nicolette  laughed.  "Yes,"  she  agreed,  "I'm  afraid 
that  is  just  what  I  am  doing." 

"Urn,"  he  grunted.  "Well — very  happy  to  meet  you, 
I'm  sure."  He  had  to  say  that  much,  for  the  sake  of 
manners.  But  he  was  not  at  all  happy.  "Nicolette,"  he 
muttered,  when  Hazel  had  taken  her  upstairs  to  her 
room.  "Nicolette  Moore — how  does  the  'Moore'  fit  in, 
anyway?    Teddy,  that  woman's  a  foreigner!" 

"But,  Father  Barbour,  such  an  exciting  foreigner! — 

And  she's  a  friend  of  the 
Harlans.  Paul  met  her 
last  spring  at  Sky  Ranch 
when  she  was  staying  with 
the  Harlans  on  King 
Mountain."  Her  effort  to 
cast  a  reassuring  local 
color  over  Nicolette  was 
wasted.  Father  Barbour 
simply  ignored  her. 

"Traveling  over  the  face 
of  the  earth  as  Paul's 
companion!  How'd  she  fin- 
agle that,  anyway?" 

"She  didn't,"  Teddy  pro- 
tested.     "The   government 
sent  her.    They  didn't  even 
know    they    were    on    the 
same    mission    until    they 
met  at  the  airport.    There  was  no  finagling  involved." 
But  the  old  man  had  the  last  word. 
"A  foreigner!"  he  repeated.    "By  George,  if  it  isn't  one 
thing,  it's  another!     What's  Paul  thinking  of,  anyway?" 
Paul   himself    didn't    know,    Teddy    could    have    an- 
swered, but  she  meant  to  see  that  he  did  know,  as  soon 
as  possible.    The  next  morning,  dressed  not  in  her  uni- 
form,  but   in   one    of   her   own   dresses  taken   from   a 
scented  hanger  in  her  own  closet,  she  reached  into  that 
same  closet,  drew  out  a  length  of  soft  scarlet  wool,  a 
pair  of  mules  that  were  just  strips  of  gold  crossed  at 
the  instep.     To  these  she  added  a  bottle  of  her  most 
precious   cologne,    and   went   softly   down   the   hall   to 
Nicolette's  room. 

Nicolette  was  up;  her  eyes  widened  as  Teddy  shook 
out  the  scarlet  negligee,  waved  the  bottle  of  cologne 
under  her  nose. 

"Potent,"  she  said.  "It  should  make  a  man's  head 
reel.    It  even  makes  me  dizzy." 

"Then  use  it,"  said  Teddy.  "And  put  on  the  mules 
and  the  negligee.  It  was  brand  new  when  I  left  home 
and  hasn't  been  touched  since.  We'll  go  up  to  Paul's 
studio  and  give  him  the  thrill  of  a  lifetime." 

Nicolette  laughed,  but  her  eyebrows  rose.  "But  no, 
Teddy!" 

"Oh,  but  yes,  Nicolette!  When  he  wakes  up,  I  want 
him  to  see  you  standing  there  in  my  prettiest  negligee. 
Then — well!" 

Some  of  the  laughter  faded  from  Nicolette's  eyes,  but 
she  spoke  lightly.  "Teddy,  you're  a  very  wicked  young 
woman." 

"No,"  said  Teddy,  "just  a  very  practical  nurse.  Now 
come  on — dress  up,  and  let  me  do  your  hair." 

It  was  Nicolette  who  felt  like  a  nurse,  giving  in.  There 
was  a  quality  so  urgent  about  Teddy's  insistence  that 
it  seemed  best  to  humor  her.    But  when  Teddy  knocked 


Margaret  (Dawn  Bender) . 


Hazel   (Bernice  Berwin) . 


PAUL  and  NICOLETTE 


on  Paul's  door  and  received  no  answer, 
Nicolette  balked.  "You  see,  Teddy,  he's 
still  asleep." 

"Of   course,"   Teddy   chuckled,   turning 
the  knob.     "Come  on." 

"But,  Teddy,  to  enter  a  sleeping  man's 
room — !" 

"Done  every  day  in  this  house,"  Teddy 
assured  her.  She  led  Nicolette  across  the 
big  studio  room  which  was  Paul's  top- 
floor  retreat,  to  the  alcove  which  housed 
his  bed.  "There  now,"  she  said,  "you 
stand  right  there  at  the  foot  of  the  bed.  Oh— is  he  deep 
in  a  beautiful  dream!" 

"Teddy,"  said  Nicolette,  "are  you  sure  you  know  what 
you're  doing?" 

Teddy  gave  an  odd  little  laugh.  "You're  not  afraid, 
are  you?" 

Nicolette  almost  said  yes,  though  not  for  a  reason 
that  Teddy  would  have  clearly  understood.  "Well,"  she 
equivocated,  "I  certainly  don't  belong  in  Paul  Barbour's 
bedroom." 

"You  belong  in  'somebody's  bedroom,"  Teddy  re- 
torted, "looking  as  enchanting  as  you  do,  and  smelling 
as  scrumptious — " 

Paul  interrupted  sleepily,  without  opening  his  eyes, 
"Is  that  Nicolette  I  smell?" 

"He's    awake — "    Nicolette    sighed    with    relief.     She 
felt  that  she  could  not  have  whispering  over  the  sleep- 
ing man  a  moment  longer.     It  was  a  silly,   schoolgirl 
prank,   but   it   was   some- 
thing else,  too,  something 
she  hesitated  to  name. 

"He's  been  awake  all 
the  while,"  said  Teddy. 
"Paul,  you  old  fraud,  open 
your  eyes  and  see  what 
I've  brought  you." 

"Something  nice?"  mum- 
bled Paul.  "Tell  you  what 
— come  back  and  see  me 
in  an  hour." 

"Let  him  sleep — "  Nico- 
lette started  to  back  away, 
but  Teddy  caught  her 
wrist  and  held  her. 

"Paul,"  she  wheedled, 
"there's  a  glass  of  water 
on  your  bedside  table — " 

"Help  yourself,"  said  Paul  politely,  and  buried  his 
face  in  the  pillow. 

"Thanks,"  said  Teddy.  "You  asked  for  it."  She 
reached  for  the  glass.  Paul  sat  up  in  a  hurry,  sputter- 
ing and  gasping. 

"Teddy,  you've  drowned  me!  Oh — uh,  good  morning, 
Nicolette." 

There  was  just  one  way  to  carry  it  off,  Nicolette 
thought — as  a  joke.  "So!"  she  exclaimed  in  pretended 
indignation,  "I've  been  standing  here  for  ten  minutes, 
and  you  say  'good  morning,  Nicolette'  only  now!" 

"My  humblest  apologies — "  He  rubbed  his  eyes  and 
groaned.  "I'll  bet  I'm  a  handsome  brute  at  this  hour! 
Need  a  shave,  hair  on  end — "  Then  he  opened  his  eyes 
wide,  and  his  jaw  dropped.  "Nicolette,  what  happened 
to  you?" 

She  colored  faintly.     "To  me?"  she  asked  innocently. 

"Yes — am  I  seeing  things,  or  have  you  shrunk?  You're 
smaller — you — I've  always  thought  of  you  as  being  a 
solid,  sturdy,  aggressive  young  woman,  and  here  you 
are,  looking  small  and  daintv  and  excessively  feminine. 
Teddy,  what  did  you  do  to  her?" 

Teddy  laughed  triumphantly.  "Just  made  her  hair 
different,  put  her  in  some  yummy  clothes.  Remem- 
ber, you're  used  to  seeing  her  in  her  working  clothes — 
sub-zero  working  clothes,  at  that.  Now  do  you  like 
what  you  see?" 

"Teddy — "  Nicolette  stirred  uneasily,  and  then  a  knock 
on  the  door  saved  her. 

"Paul,  are  you  awake?"  It  was  Father  Barbour's  voice. 

"Just  a  minute,  Dad,"  Paul  called.  Teddy  gasped  and 
seized  Nicolette's  arm.  "Through  the  side  door,"  she 
whispered,  "into  my  room — " 

They  made  it  just  in  time.  Father  Barbour  entered 
the  studio  by  one  door  a  split-second  after  they'd  left 
by   another.    From  Teddy's    (Continued   on    page   100) 


Paul    (Michael   Raffetto). 


65 


. 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  DAYLIGHT  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  DAYLIGHT  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


ff]|                 B*m  >!■ 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Words  and  Music 

People's  Church 
Tone  Tapestries 

White  Rabbit  Line 

News 

E.  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Bible  Highlights 

Voices  Down  The 
Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Howard  K.  Smith 
The  News  Makers 
Salt  Lake  Tabernacle 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Timely  Topics 

Texas  Jim  Robertson 

Invitation  to  Learning 

12:15 

12:30 

Eternal  Light 

Lutheran  Hour 

People's  Platform 

12:45 

On  Trial 

1:00 

America  United 

William  L.  Shirer 

Sam  Pettengill 

1:15 

Mutual  Music  Box 

Edward  "Ted" 
Weeks 

1:30 

Chicago  Round  Table 

Music 

National  Vespers 

Tell  It  Again 

1:45 

2:00 

First  Piano  Quartet 

Army  Air  Force 

This  Week  Around 

You  Are  There 

2:15 

Show 

the  World 

2:30 

Robert  Merrill 

Bill  Cunningham 

Mr.  President 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 

2:45 

Veteran's  Information 

Drama 

Elmo  Roper 

3:00 

Eddy  Howard 

Charlie's  House 

Harrison  Woods 

CBS  Symphony 

3:15 

The  Almanac 

Orch. 

3:30 

One  Man's  Family 

Life  Begins  at  80 

Dance  Music 

3:45 

4:00 

The  Quiz  Kids 

House  of  Mystery 

4:15 

Thinking  Allowed 

4:30 

News 

True  Detective 

Make  Mine  Music 

4:45 

Living— 1948 

5:00 

Under  Arrest 

Personal  Autograph 

5:15 

Musical 

Here's  to  You 

5:30 

Jane  Pickens 

What  Makes  You 

Carle  Comes  Calling 

5:45 

Tick? 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Hollywood  Star 
Preview 

Those  Websters 
Nick  Carter 

Drew  Pearson 
Don  Gardner 

Family  Hour 

The  Pause  That  Re- 
freshes on  the  Air 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Rexall  Summer 
Theater 

Mystery  Playhouse 

Behind  the  Front 
Page 

1  Love  Adventure 
Johnny  Fletcher 

Gene  Autry 
Blondie 

8 

8 
8 
8 

00 
15 
30 
45 

00 
15 
30 
45 

Robert  Shaw's 

Chorale 
RFD  America 

A.  L.  Alexander 

Jimmie  Fidler 
Twin  Views  of  News 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 
Man  Called  X 

9 
9 
9 
<! 

Manhattan  Merry- 
Go- Round 
American  Album 

Meet  Me  at  Parky's 
It's  A  Living 

Walter  Winchell 
Louella  Parsons 

Strike  It  Rich 

10 

If) 
in 

00 

15 
30 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 
Horace  Heidt 

Voice  of  Strings 
Clary's  Gazette 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Shorty  Bell  with 

Mickey  Rooney 
Escape 

JACKSON  HECK— unmarried  native 
New  Yorker  now  heard  as  Philo  Vance 
and    on    many    other    network    shows. 


66 


MARGO  WHITEMAN— the  mistress 
of  ceremonies  on  Tomorrow's  Tops, 
new  ABC  teen-age  talent  program, 
heard  Mondays  at  9:00  P.M.,  EDT. 
Margo  is  seventeen  herself;  a  student 
at  Marymount;  an  ardent  horsewoman; 
has  more  right  than  anyone  to  call 
Paul  Whiteman  by  his  nickname — 
"Pops"  is  her  father.  She  made  her 
radio  debut  when  she  substituted  for 
him  at  the  mike  because  he  had  a  cold. 


W*m 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Sing  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Navy  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 

5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Capt.  Barney's  Trea- 
sure Chest 
Superman 
Adventure  Parade 
Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 

Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
In  My  Opinion 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

8:55 

First  Piano  Quartet 
Voice  of  Firestone 

The  Falcon 

Casebook  of  Gregory 

Hood 
Billy  Rose 

Sound  Off 

Stars  in  the  Night 

Inner  Sanctum 
Cabin  13-13 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Quiet  Please 

Tomorrow's  Tops 
Treasury  Band 

Local  Programs 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 
Fred  Waring 

Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Dance  Orch. 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 

Vaughn  Monroe 
Romance 

PHILLIPS  CAR  LI  V  —  MBS  Vice 
President  in  Charge  of  Programs,  cele- 
brates twenty-five  years  in  radio.  With 
Graham  McNamee,  on  WEAF,  he  aired 
World  Series,  championship  boxing 
bouts,  the  Pan-American  Conference, 
play-by-play  football  games,  during 
radio's  crystal  set  days.  His  was  the 
first  coast-to-coast  audience  participa- 
tion program,  Breakfast  at  Sardi's.  He 
transferred  from  NBC  to  MBS  in  '44. 


1 3                                          ?i£rf''. 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine Of  The  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Sin:j  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst.  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

B^BB-ai  B>m  W^m  EH          ■ 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Sing  Alon 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Martin  Block  Show 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Capt.  Barney's  Trea- 
sure Chest 

Dick  Tracy 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Superman 

Terry  and  Pirates 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 

2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 
Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 

The  Martin  Block 
Show 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
The  Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 

5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Capt.  Barney's  Trea- 
sure Chest 
Superman 

Tom  Mix 

Dick  Tracy 

Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Talks 

Avenir  de  Monfred 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Adrian  Rollini  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Alvin  Heifer 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Dennis  Day 

The  New  Jack  Pearl 
Show 

Special  Agent 

High  Adventure 
Billy  Rose 

On  Stage  America 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Tex  and  Jinx 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Racket  Smashers 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Go  For  the  House 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 

Opinion-Aire 
California  Melodies 

Gordon  Mac  Rae 
Music  By  Maupin 

The  Whistler 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Frontiers  of  Science 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

Avenir  de  Manfred 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Alvin  Heifer 

Elmer  Davis 

7:30 

Lennie  Herman 
Quintet 

News 

Green  Hornet  Drama 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Dinah  Shore,  Harry 
James  and  Johnny 

Mysterious  Traveler 

Youth  Asks  the 
Government 

Mystery  Theater 

8:15 

Mercer 

Edwin  D.  Cantham 

8:30 

Carmen  Cavallaro 

America's  Town 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

9:00 

Adventures  of  the 

Gabriel  Heatter 

We,  The  People 

9:15 

Thin  Man 

Radio  Newsreel 

Local  Programs 

9:30 

Call  the  Police 

Lone  Wolf 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

9:45 

10:00 

Meet  Corliss  Archer 

Public  Defender 

NAM  Series 

Studio  One 

10:15 

10:30 

Evening  With  Rom- 
berg 

Dance  Orchestra 

Labor  U.  S.  A. 

MARY  MARTHA  BRINEY  —leaves 
her  home  in  Coraopolis  Heights,  near 
Pittsburgh,  where  she  is  Mrs.  R.  A. 
Martin,  and  entrains  for  New  York 
each  Wednesday  to  appear  as  soprano 
star  of  Your  Song  and  Mine,  heard  on 
CBS  at  9:00  P.M..  EDT.  Her  singing 
career  began  in  1937.  She  has  played 
leads  in  musical  comedy  and  operetta 
and  sung  in  concert  but  this  is  her 
first      important       radio      appearance. 


67 


furagr 


"::!:::■  :/a-:.:/::;-s:^:z 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  for  You 
S.ng  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

HANS  CONREID— familiar  to  those 
who  dial  CBS,  Mondays  at  10  P.M., 
EDT.  as  Irma's  friend,  Professor 
Kropotkin,  also  has  a  better  Japanese 
accent  than  most  Japanese!  (He  got 
it  helping  to  set  up  radio  stations  in 
Tokyo  and  Korea.)  Ten  years  ago, 
when  he  was  playing  a  Shakespearean 
series  with  John  Barrymore,  he  was 
called  "one  of  the  most  versatile  ac- 
tors I've  ever  seen,"  by  John  himself. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  for  a  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Martin  Block  Show 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Paul  Whiteman  Club 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  a  Girl  Marries 

Capt.  Barney's  Trea- 
sure Chest 

Dick  Tracy 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Superman 

Terry  and  Pirates 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Adventure  Parade 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45    Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Of  Men  and  Books 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Lawrence  Week 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Alvin  Heifer 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Henry  Morgan  Show 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Armco  Services 

Revue 
New  Faces 

Lucky  Partners 

Talent  Hunt 
Billy  Rose 

Front  Page 
Criminal  Casebook 

Dr.  Standish 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

N.elson  Eddy-Dorothy 

Kirsten 
Ray  Noble 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Revere  Revue 
Background  For 
Stardom 

Candid  Microphone 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Bob  Hawk  Show 

The  Time.  The  Place 
and  The  Tune 

Family  Theatre 

Boxing  Bouts 

Hallmark  Playhouse 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  for  You 
Sing  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bfst.  in  H'wood 

Galen  Drake 
Ted  Malone 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

12:00 
12:15 


12:30 
12:45 


1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 


2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 


3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 


4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 


5:00 

5:15 
5:30 
5:45 


AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 


U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 


Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 


Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 


When  A  Girl  Marries 

Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 


Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Campus  Salute 


Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 


Queen  for  a  Day 
Martin  Block  Show 


Red  Hook  31 


Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 


Capt.  Barney's  Trea- 
sure Chest 
Superman 
Adventure  Parade 
Tom  Mix 


Welcome  Travelers     Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 


Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 


Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 


Ladies  Be  Seated 
Paul  Whiteman  Club 


Treasury  Band  Show 


Dick  Tracy 

Terry  and  Pirates 
Jack  Armstrong 


Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 


Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 


David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 


Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 


Treasury  Bandstand 


The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


68 


JOAN  TOMPKINS— landed  her  first 
radio  role  because  of  her  stage-earned 
prominence.  Now  she's  starred  in  This 
is  Nora  Drake  and  a  featured  player 
in  David  Harum,  The  Second  Mrs. 
Burton  and  other  network  shows  and 
lucky  if  she  can  find  a  few  hours  just 
to  see  a  Broadway  play.  Joan  was 
born  in  New  York  and  brought  up 
and  educated  in  nearby  Mount  Vernon. 
She's   married    to    Bruce   MacFarlane 


6:00 
6:15 

6:30 
6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Report  from  the 

United  Nations 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Mary  Osborn  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Robert  Q.  Lewis 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Cities  Service  Band 
of  America 

There's  Always  A 

Woman 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 
Billy  Rose 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 
Danny  Thomas 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

First  Piano  Quartet 
Waltz  Time 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Musicomedy 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Mysiory  Theater 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Tex  Beneke 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

Phil  Baker 
Spotlight  Revue 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Practical  Gardner 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Renfro  Valley  Folks 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Frank  Merriwell 
Archie  Andrews 

Bill  Harrington 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

This  Is  For  You 
Johnny  Thompson 
Hollywood  Headlines 
Buddy  Weed  Trio 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
house 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
SmilirV  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Campus  Capers 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affairs 

12:30 

Coffee  With  Congress 

American  Farmer 

Stars  Over  Hollywood 

12:45 

This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Alan  Lomax 

Maggi  McNellis, 

Grand  Central  Sta. 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

Edmond  Tomlinson 

Dance  Orch. 

Speaking  of  Songs 

County  Fair 

1:45 

Report  From  Europe 

2:00 

Music  For  The 

Woody  Herman's 

Fascinating  Rhythm 

Give  and  Take 

2:15 

Moment 

Orch. 

2:30 

Salute  to  Veterans 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Hitching  Post  Variety 

Country  Journal 

2:45 

3:00 

Dance  Orch. 

Piano  Playhouse 

Report  from  Overseas 

3:15 

Adventures  in 
Science 

3:30 

Local  Programs 

Sports  Parade 

ABC  Symphony 

Cross-Section  U.S.A. 

3:45 

Orch. 

4:00 

Charlie  Slocum 

Dave  Stephen  Orch. 

4:15 

Horse  Race 

Brooklyn  Handicap 

4:30 

Local  Programs 

Racing 

Race 

4:45 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

Dizzy  Dean  Sports- 
cast 

Take  A  Number 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Make  Way  For 
Youth 

5:15 

Lassie  Show 

5:30 

Dr.  I.  Q.  Jr. 

True  or  False 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 

Saturday  at  the 
Chase 

5:45 

Dorothy  Guldheim 

EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 

6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

Peter  Roberts 

Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Ernie  Felice  Quartet 

Profits  of  Prayer 
Harry  Wismer 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

In  My  Opinion 

Red  Barber  Sports 
Show 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Curtain  Time 

Hawaii  Calls 

What's  the  Name  of 
That  Song 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

St.  Louis  Municipal 

Opera 
Saturday  Night 

Serenade 

8:00 
8:15 

5:30 
8:45 

Life  of  Riley 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Ross  Dolan, 

Detective 
The  Amazing  Mr. 

Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Can  You  Top  This 

Three  For  The 
Money 

Gangsters 
What's  My  Name 

Joan  Davis  Time 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Radio  City  Playhouse 
Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theater  of  the  Air 

Professor  Quiz 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Let's  Dance,  America 

JANE  PICKENS— back  on  the  air- 
waves after  two  years'  absence  and 
heard  Sundays,  5:30  P.M.,  EDT,  over 
NBC.  Jane  began  her  radio  career  in 
a  trio  formed  with  her  sisters,  Patti 
and  Helen,  but  Helen,  then  Patti  mar- 
ried and  left  radio.  Jane  went  on  as 
soloist  in  musical  comedies,  revues 
and  nightclubs  and  had  her  own  radio 
program,     American     Melody     Hour. 


A  CONSOLE  radio  phonograph 
combination  that  was  specially 
designed  to  blend  with  modern 
furnishings  is  the  Stewart-Warner 
"Interpreter."  The  technical- 
minded  will  be  interested  in  the 
electro-hush  reproducer,  while  the 
furniture-minded  would  like  to 
know  that  it  is  finished  in  either 
Blond  Mahogany  ($185.00)  or  nat- 
ural mahogany    ($180.00). 


Stewart- Warner  "Interpreter." 


The  1948  version  of  RCA  Vic- 
tor's "Globe  Trotter"  is  just  as 
effective  and  beautiful  as  ever, 
but  about  ten  dollars  less  than 
the  original  model.  The  set  will 
operate  on  AC*,  DC  or  Battery 
and  comes  in  a  maroon  plastic 
and  aluminum  streamliner  case. 
Opening  or  closing  the  lid  also 
operates  the  set. 


Globe  Trotter:  very  portable 


If  it's  the  unusual  set 
you're  after,  take  a  peek  at 
Stromberg-Carlson's  model 
called  The  Mandarin.  It's 
a  sauve  masterpiece  of  mod- 
ern design  that  comes  in 
ribbon  striped  mahogany 
veneer  with  a  Chinese  carv- 
ing reproduction  in  bas  re- 
lief. More,  it's  FM  and  AM 
and  contains  an  excellent 
record  player.  It's  less  than 
$500.00  for  this  special  set. 


Dignified  "Mandarin." 

Crosley's  model  148CR, 
called  the  Carrollton,  is  an- 
other good  radio-phono- 
graph combination  that 
doesn't  look  like  a  cabinet 
maker's  nightmare.  A  beau- 
tiful cabinet  of  18th  Century 
inspired  styling  houses  an 
excellent  radio  receiver 
(AM,  FM,  Shortwave)  and 
an  automatic  record  chang- 
er. There's  also  plenty  of 
room  for  album  storage  on 
both  sides  of  the  cabinet. 


Carrollton:  storage,  too. 


Little  Sentinel:  little  price. 


FM  performance  in  a  small 
compact  package  is  the  feature 
of  the  new  Sentinel  model 
315-W.  Housed  in  an  attractive 
walnut  plastic  cabinet  is  a  6 
tube  AM-FM  receiver.  This 
table  model  is  extremely  low- 
priced  for  its  type  of  radio  set. 
Best  of  all.  it  doesn't  require 
external  antenna  except  in  ex- 
tremely unusual  conditions. 


69 


entries.  Once  we  won  a  whole  two  dol- 
lars!" 

Our  fabulous  Hidden  City  contest  sup- 
plied more  than  the  usual  amount  of 
amusement  for  the  Leadinghouse  family. 
To  identify  the  clues  given  week  by 
week  on  the  twenty  radio  programs  they 
pored  over  geography  books  to  find  lati- 
tude and  longitude,  and  made  a  game  of 
trying  to  outguess  each  other.  Florence, 
the  housekeeping  authority,  added  the 
important  twenty-five  words.  They 
stripped  four  box  tops,  dropped  their 
entries  into  the  mail,  and  forget  them. 

They  had  other,  more  crucial  things 
to  think  about,  for  Florence  was  wor- 
ried, seriously  worried. 

HER  FATHER,  now  retired  to  Phoenix, 
Arizona,  had  developed  a  serious 
heart  ailment  which  brought  with  it 
costs  exceeding  his  income.  Bill's  Up- 
town Sports  and  Radio  shop  at  4803 
Broadway  comfortably  supplies  the 
needs  of  the  Leadinghouse  family,  but 
there's  a  limit  to  how  far  its  revenue 
will  stretch. 

It  was  her  problem,  Florence  decided. 
She  wanted  to  help  her  father,  but  she 
did  not  want  either  to  burden  her  hus- 
band or  risk  denying  her  sons  things 
they  should  have.  She  could  solve  it 
only  by  going  back  to  work. 

She  planned  to  start  her  job  hunt  as 
soon  as  overdue  decorators  finished  work 
on  her  apartment.  It  would  be  wise, 
too,  she  concluded,  to  invest  in  a  new 
permanent  while  she  still  had  free  time. 

She  followed  her  beauty  shop  appoint- 
ment by  having  dinner  with  a  woman 
friend  and  seeing  a  show.  It  was  almost 
10  P.M.  when  she  returned  home. 

Dave,  who  has  a  theoretical  9  P.M. 
bedtime,  was  still  awake.  What's  more, 
he  was  jumping  up  and  down  with  ex- 
citement. His  "Hey,  Mom!"  started  as 
soon  as  she  turned  her  key  in  the  door. 
"There  was  a  man  here  looking  for  you. 
He  phoned.    Then  he  came  out  here." 

With  as  much  severity  as  she  could 
muster,  Florence  demanded,  "Dave,  why 
aren't  you  in  bed?" 

"Honest,  Mom,  the  man  was  here.  He 
says  you  won  a  prize.  And  you  better  be 
up  by  7:30  tomorrow  morning,  because 
he's  coming  back  then." 

"Nonsense.  You  just  thought  up  a 
new  excuse  for  not  being  in  bed.  Get 
going." 

David  was  indignant.  "He  was  too, 
here.    And  he's  coming  back." 

"I  don't  believe  it." 

"Wanna  bet?  Wanna  bet?" 

"I  bet." 

"How  much  you  bet,  Mom?" 

For  fast  settling,  Florence  said,  "I  bet 
you  a  quarter.    Get  to  bed." 

Breakfast  the  next  day  was  no  pro- 
duction number  at  the  Leadinghouse 
menage.  Bill,  who  had  been  at  the 
store  with  customers  until  all  the  tele- 
vision programs  went  off  the  air,  was 
still  asleep.  Jack  would  dive  from 
covers  to  clothes  just  in  time  to  get  to 
work.  David,  however,  is  at  the  per- 
petually hungry  age.  Wrapped  in  a 
bathrobe,  Florence  was  getting  his 
breakfast  when  the  doorbell  rang. 

"It's  that  man,"  yelled  David. 

Gags  in  the  Leadinghouse  family 
take  elaborate  staging.  Florence  thought 
her  son  had  cooked  this  one  up  with  a 
friend  from  down  the  street. 

Unperturbed,  she  answered,  "Tell  him 
to  come  right  to  the  kitchen." 

In  walked  H.  E.  Purcell,  Proctor  and 
Gamble's  manager  for  Chicago. 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page  55) 

Florence  confided  to  use  later,  "I  cer- 
tainly wasn't  dressed  for  company.  The 
kitchen  was,  though.  You  would  have 
thought  we  set  the  stage.  Standing  in 
plain  sight,  right  under  the  sink  where 
Dave  had  put  them  when  he  unpacked 
the  groceries,  were  four  different  P&G 
products." 

Fussed  by  having  Dave's  joke  turned 
real,  she  scarcely  understood  her  early 
morning  caller's  statement  that  she  was 
being  considered  for  one  of  the  minor 
prizes  in  the  Hidden  City  contest. 

Because  we  at  Welcome  Travelers 
wanted  our  College  Inn  and  radio  audi- 
ence to  hear  what  happens  when  a  per- 
son is  handed  a  sudden  fortune,  no  one 
told  Mrs.  Leadinghouse  what  she  actu- 
ally had  won.  We  held  to  that  "minor 
prize"  line,  and  invited  her  to  appear. 

Getting  down  to  Hotel  Sherman  that 
day  turned  into  such  a  problem  for  her 
that  she  came  close  to  asking  us  to  mail 
the  check.  The  decorators  were  at  work 
in  her  apartment  and  she  felt  she  should 
be  home.  Shy  about  appearing  before  the 
audience,   she   dreaded   arriving   alone. 

Her  husband  had  an  appointment,  and 
her  best  friend,  Mrs.  Lillian  Smith, 
would  be  in  Augustana  Hospital  having 
a  major  operation  just  at  the  time  Mrs. 
Leadinghouse  would  go  on  the  air. 

The  boys,  reminding  her  they  had  a 
share  in  the  prize,  wanted  to  come  along, 
but  Florence  vetoed  the  idea.  David, 
although  permitted  to  skip  school  in  the 
morning,  should  return  to  classes  as 
quickly  as  possible.  Jack  had  an  insur- 
ance examination.  Particularly  since 
none  of  them  knew  exactly  what  the 
prize  would  be,  the  kids  protested  they 
couldn't  stand  the  suspense. 

Florence  compromised.  "If  it's  a  hun- 
dred dollars,"  she  told  them,  "you  can 
come  downtown  to  help  me  spend  it." 

Her  grocer,  too,  had  been  kept  in  the 
dark  and  told  only  that  one  of  his  cus- 
tomers had  won  an  award,  and  that  he, 
too,  would  receive  a  prize. 

OUR  CROWD  in  the  College  Inn  sensed 
something  was  in  the  air.  They 
seemed  more  excited  than  she  when  I 
asked  if  she  knew  how  much  she  had 
won.  She  presumed,  she  answered,  that 
since  it  was  a  minor  prize  it  would  be  a 
hundred  dollars. 

"Could  you  use  some  extra  money?"  I 
asked. 

She  flashed  a  tremulous  smile.  "Of 
course  I  could.    My  father  is  ill." 

I  brought  out  the  check,  keeping  my 
thumb  over  the  amount. 

"Here's  the  check,  made  out  to  you. 
Read  it." 

"I  have  to  get  my  glasses." 

She  fumbled  in  her  purse.  By  that 
time,  the  paper  trembled  in  my  hand. 

Specs  in  place,  she  still  hesitated. 

"What  is  the  name  of  the  bank?"  I 
prompted. 

"Guaranty  Trust  Company  of  New 
York.  .  .  ."  She  seemed  puzzled. 

I  began  to  wonder  if  I  could  stand  the 
suspense  myself.  "What's  the  next  line?" 

"Mrs.  Florence  Leadinghouse,  1429 
Edgewater  Avenue,  Chicago.  .  .  ." 

"Now  the  amount.  See  if  the  hundred 
dollars  is  correct.     Read  the  figure." 

I  lifted  my  thumb. 

Mrs.  Leadinghouse  drew  a  breath.  As 
though  hypnotized,  she  started  to  read. 

"Twenty — five — thou — "  The  words 
turned  into  a  shriek. 

Her  face  drained  dead  white.  We  had 
been  afraid  she  might  faint.  We  had  a 
doctor  and  nurse  standing  by. 


Still  unbelieving,  her  lips  moved  to 
say,  "Twenty-five  thousand  dollars." 
But  the  words  had  no  sound. 

Tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  Laugh- 
ing and  crying  at  once,  she  flung  her 
arms  around  me  and  kissed  me.  The 
news  photographers  closed  in.  The 
crowd  went  wild. 

When  both  of  us  got  our  voices  back, 
I  asked  the  inevitable  questions  about 
what  she  would  do  with  the  money. 

Her  father  came  first.  As  soon  as  pos- 
sible, she  would  go  to  Phoenix  to  see 
him.  Later,  I  learned  that  he  had  heard 
the  show  and  shared  the  thrill. 

FLORENCE  LEADINGHOUSE'S  real 
concern  in  that  joyous  moment  was 
for  her  husband  and  her  boys.  Bill 
would  have  heard  the  program  at  his 
store.  David,  she  suspected,  had  an  ear 
glued  to  the  family  radio,  but  Jack 
didn't  know.     She  phoned  his  office. 

While  we  were  on  the  air,  a  bit  of 
drama  had  been  going  on  at  Kemper  In- 
surance company.  Jack  was  writing  his 
examination,  but  two  of  his  friends  had 
brought  in  a  portable  receiver  and 
sneaked  off  to  the  washroom  to  listen. 

Hearing  the  fabulous  award,  they 
rushed  to  find  him.  When  people  tell 
him  his  mother  was  white  as  a  sheet, 
Jack  replies,  "You  should  have  seen 
those  guys." 

"Those  guys"  had  also  been  known  to 
concoct  involved  practical  jokes.  When 
they  rushed  to  Jack,  he  countered  their 
excited  shrieks  with  the  flat  statement, 
"You're  kidding." 

"But  it's  twenty-five  thousand  dol- 
lars," they  protested. 

Jack  still  didn't  believe  it.  The  ex- 
citement spread.  A  breathless  crowd 
had  gathered  around  his  desk  when  the 
phone  rang.  When  Mrs.  Leadinghouse 
confirmed  the  report,  it  was  her  six- 
footer's  turn  to  consider  fainting. 

Mrs.  Leadinghouse's  first  expenditure 
out  of  her  $25,000  was  twenty-five  cents. 
The  man  had  come  back. 

Henry  Jung,  her  grocer,  who  came  to 
the  broadcast  expecting  to  receive 'two 
tickets  to  a  stage  show,  drove  home  his 
prize,  a  shiny  new  de  luxe  Ford  sedan. 

Mrs.  Leadinghouse  has  gone  on  no 
spending  sprees.  Her  major  concerns 
after  receiving  the  fortune  were  to  get 
the  house  back  in  order  after  the  deco- 
rating job  was  finished,  and  to  help  her 
friend,  Mrs.  Smith,  through  those  crucial 
days  which  follow  a  major  operation. 

Besieged  by  telephone  calls  from  per- 
sons who  wanted  to  talk  to  her  and  con- 
gratulate her,  she  turned  for  advice  to 
Mrs.  Florence  Hubbard,  the  department 
store  saleswoman  who  won  the  Walking 
Man  contest.  The  two  luckiest  women 
of  the  year  liked  each  other  instantly, 
and  immediately  plotted  a  joint  open 
house  for  their  friends. 

Beyond  that,  she  hasn't  planned  much. 
Perhaps  the  family  will  celebrate  by 
purchasing  a  lakeside  cottage.  The  only 
thing  the  Leadinghouse  family  likes  bet- 
ter than  golf  is  fishing. 

The  really  wonderful  thing  to 
Florence  is  that  she  will  now  be  able 
to  give  her  father  the  little  luxuries  she 
wants  him  to  have. 

David,  the  lad  who  follows  contests, 
and  who  has  always  been  certain  the 
family  would  win  a  big  one,  has  a 
graphic  answer.  "Change  it  all  into  one 
dollar  bills  and  try  to  carry  it  home. 
Then  you'll  believe  it.  Twenty-five 
thousand  dollars  is  an  awful  bale  of 
money!" 


eC  tOUcAedJ  &■ P& An  incandescent, 

star  quality  in  the  Duchess  of  Leinster's  face 
sends  her  loveliness  out  to  you — makes  you  feel 
the  graciousness  that  is  her  inmost  self. 

Your  face  is  the  keynote  of  your  inner  self.  It 
is  expressing  You  every  minute — your  spirit,  your 
disposition,  your  habits.  Help  it  then  to  reveal 
you  clearly — as  you  want  to  be. 


The  Duchess'  complexion  is  radiant,  glowing-clear  and  silken-smooth 


a 


I  have  an.  unbreakable  rule 
for  fresh,  soft  shin.  _ 


1  have  an  unbreakable  rule  for  fresh, 
soft  skin — Pond's  Cold  Cream,"  this 
lovely  Duchess  says.  Follow  her  rule — 
and  work  magic  on  your  face  today.  See 
how  Pond's  "Outside-Inside"  Face 
Treatment  brings  your  skin  new  love- 
liness. This  is  the  way: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  your  face  with 
comfortably  hot  water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream 
— lots  of  it — all  over  your  face.  This  will 
soften  and  sweep  dirt  and  make-up  from 
pore  openings.  Tissue  off  well. 

Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  a  second  Pond's 
creaming.  This  rireses  ofFlast  traces  of  dirt, 
leaves  skin  lubricated,  aglow.  Tissue  off. 

Cold  Stimulation — give  your  face  a  tonic 
cold  water  splash. 

Now  .  .  .  see  your  new  face !  It's  alive ! 
Rosy!  Clean!  Soft!  It  has  a  cleanliness 
that  you  can  feel  as  well  as  see. 


Jayj  . 

XH7CJFTJEJSS  €>f  JLEJATSTEIl 


Rosy!  Clean!  Soft!  Your 
face  comes  alive! 


You'll  want  to  give  your  face  this  new  rewarding  Pond's  treatment 
every  single  day  (and  of  course  always  at  bedtime) .  It  literally  works 
on  both  sides  of  your  skin  at  once. 

From  the  Outside — soft,  cool  Pond's  Cold  Cream  wraps  itself  around 
the  surface  dirt  and  make-up,  as  you  massage — sweeps  all  cleanly 
away,  as  you  tissue  off.  From  the  Inside — every  step  quickens 
beauty-giving  circulation — speeds  tiny  blood 
vessels  in  their  work  of  bringing  in 
skin-cell  food,  and  carrying 
away  skin-cell  waste. 

Skin  loveliness  takes 
renewing  every  day.  Bring 
your  skin  fresh  loveliness  this 
rewarding  Pond^s  way.  It  is  beauty 
care  you'll  never  want  to  skip. 
Don't  wait  one  more  day  to  do  it. 


Pond's— 

limn  a i 


it!  h\  more  women 
other  face  cream 


71 


It  takes 
the  Nurses  to 
lead  the  way! 

Tampax  is  "a  different  kind"  of  monthly 
sanitary  protection  because  it  is  worn 
internally.  Yet  notwithstanding  this  rad- 
ical difference,  a  recent  survey  among 
registered  nurses  shows  45%  have  already 
adopted  Tampax  for  their  own  use.  .  . . 
Invented  by  a  doctor,  the  hy- 
gienic features  of  Tampax  are 
outstanding  —  no  odor,  no 
chafing,  easy  disposal. 


College  girls  too  .... 

Count  the  college  girls  in, 
whenever  improved  modern  methods  are 
offered.  Tampax  sales  actually  soar  in 
women's  college  towns.  And  no  wonder! 
No  belts  or  pins  for  Tampax  means  no 
bulges  or  ridges  under  a  girl's  sleek  for- 
mal. And  you  can't  even  feel  the  Tampax! 

....  the  young  married  set 

Another  recent  survey  shows 
the  young  married  group 
"leading  the  way"  for  Tam- 
pax  Made  of  pure  surgical 

cotton  compressed  in  slim 
applicators,  Tampax  is  dainty  to  use  and 
a  month's  supply  will  slip  into  purse. 
Sold  at  drug  and  notion  counters  in  3 
absorbencies:  Regular,  Super,  Junior.... 
Tampax  Incorporated,  Palmer,  Mass. 


Accepted  for  Advertising 
by  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Association 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions ;  we'll  try  to  give  the  answers 


FLORENCE  HALOP 


RELAX,  BOYS 

Dear  Editor: 

Could  you  please 
tell  me  who  played 
"Hotbreath  Houli- 
han" on  the  Jimmy 
Durante  program? 
I  would  also  appre- 
ciate your  printing 
a  picture  of  her  in 
your  magazine.  To 
tell  the  truth  I  al- 
ways waited  to  hear 
her  come  on  the  show  and  say,  "Relax 
boys,  it's  Hotbreath  Houlihan."  Could  you 
also  tell  me  if  she  is  heard  on  any  other 
program? 

Mr.  G.  K. 
Boston,  Mass. 

Yes — Florence  Halop,  alias  Hotbreath 
Houlihan,  is  also  Miss  Duffy  on  Duffy's 
Tavern  which  will  return  to  the  air  on 
October  6th.  Miss  Halop's  Brooklynese  jar- 
gon comes  easily  as  she  was  born  in 
Brooklyn  and  is  the  sister  of  one  of  the 
original  Dead  End  Kids. 


PHIL   BAKER'S 
BACK 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
inform  me  as  to  the 
night  and  station. of 
Phil  Baker's  new 
show  on  the  air.  We 
know  he's  on  the 
air  again  but  don't 
know  when. 

Mrs.  C.  B. 
Amsterdam,    N.    Y. 


PHIL,  BAKER 


After  a  too-long  absence  from  radio,  Phil 
Baker  returned  last  Spring  with  a  show 
called  Everybody  Wins.  Tune  in  on  Fridays 
at  10:00  P.M.,  EDT  on  the  CBS  network. 


THE  LASS  WITH 

THE    DELICATE 

AIR 

Dear  Editor: 

Would  like  very 
much  to  know  if 
Evelyn  Knight  is  on 
the  air.  She  is  by 
far  the  favorite 
songstress  in  our 
family. 

Miss  D.  D. 
Cedar  Rapids,  Iowa 


EVELYN  KNIGHT 


19. 


You'll  be  happy  to  hear  that  Evelyn  can 
be  heard  Wednesdays  on  the  Texaco  Star 
Theatre  (10:30  P.M.,  EST,  ABC)  on  which 
she  co-stars  with  Gordon  MacRae. 


SHE'S  PEGGY 

Dear  Editor: 

Pepper  Young's 
family  is  my  favor- 
ite serial.  Does  the 
girl  who  plays  Peg- 
gy Young  look  as 
pleasant  as  she 
sounds? 

Miss  M.  D. 
Richmond  Hill,  N.Y. 

She     certainly        BETTY  WRAGGE 

does!  And  here's  a  picture  of  Betty  Wragge 
(she's  Peggy)  to  prove  it.  Betty  made  her 
radio  debut  in  a  children's  program  way 
back  in  1927  and  since  then  has  followed 
a  long  succession  of  juicy  parts  in  shows 
such  as  March  of  Time,  Lux  Radio  Theatre, 
We  The  People,  and  Texaco  Star  Theatre 
with  frequent  outs  for  Broadway  roles.  In 
1936  when  the  sponsors  of  a  new  serial 
called  Red  Davis  (later,  the  title  was 
changed  to  Pepper  Young's  Family)  were 
looking  for  a  typical  American  girl  for  a 
featured  role,  Betty  won  the  audition  and 
has  played  the  role  of  Peggy  ever  since. 


RFD    AMERICA 

Dear  Editor: 

There  is  a  farm 
program  which  I 
think  originates  in 
Chicago — a  quiz 
program  for  farm 
families.  Could  you 
tell  me  about  this 
program — also  the 
time    and    station? 

Mrs.  E.  L.  M. 
Keene,  N.  H. 


ED  BOTTCHER 


RFD  America  (Sundays,  NBC,  2:00  P.M. 
EDT)  is  what  you  have  in  mind — and  a 
lively  program  it  is,  too.  The  contestants 
are  farmers  who  compete  for  awards  which 
sometimes  include  a  ten-year  supply  of 
overalls  and  wire  fencing.  The  winner  is 
dubbed  "Master  Farmer  of  the  Week"  and 
returns  the  following  week  to  defend  his 
title  against  three  new  contestants.  41-year- 
old  Ed  Boucher,  whose  only  previous  radio 
experience  was  as  an  eight-time  winner  on 
the  same  show,  is  the  M.  C.  Ed  commutes 
to  Chicago  weekly  from  his  153-acre  farm 
near  Hanceville,  Ala.,  for  broadcasts. 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth, 
Radio  Mirror.  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y.  We'll 
answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information 
Booth  or  by  mail — but  be  sure  to  sign 
full  name  and  address,  and  attach  this 
box  to  your  letter. 


HL&,  J*^ 


AVA  GARDNER  is  adorable  indeed  as  she   plays  opposite  ROBERT  WALKER 
in  Universal-International's  "ONE  TOUCH  OF  VENUS" 


fcC/W**** 


This  is  a  beauty  care  that  works!  In 
recent  Lux  Toilet  Soap  tests  by  skin 
specialists,  actually  3  out  of  4  complex- 
ions became  lovelier  in  a  short  time. 

"Smooth  the  fragrant  lather  well  in," 
says  Ava  Gardner.  "Rinse  with  warm 
water,  then  cold.  As  you  pat  gently  with 
a  soft  towel  to  dry,  skin  takes  on  fresh 
new  beauty!"  Don't  let  neglect  cheat 
you  of  romance.  Take  Hollywood's  tip! 


YOU  want  skin  that's  lovely  to  look  at.  thrilling 
to  touch.  For  a  softer,  smoother  complexion, 
try  the  fragrant  white  beauty  soap  lovely  screen 
stars  recommend.  Lux  Girls  win  romance! 


9  out  of  10  Screen  Stars  use  Lux  Toilet  Soap— /ax £/>&  #re  6?re//er/ 


ever  draping  makes  this  high  shade  lush  quality 
Rayon  Gabardine  a  stand-out.  It's  exquisitely}' tailored 
and  fashioned  and  is  finely  saddle-stitched,  in  contrast- 
'•  ing  color,  to  give  it  that  made-to-order  look  It  can't  be 
j  duplicated  anywhere  at  this  exceptionally  low  price 
.  and  you'll  be  amazed  at  how  expensive  it  really  looks. 
>  (Jolors:  Beige,  Aqua,  Winter  White,  Gray,  Slack,  Kelly. 


Junior 


,zes        $iri98 

»-l  1-13-1  5-17  |Vf 


'Keg.  .  10-12-14-16-18-20 
J.arge  38-40-42-44-46-48 


n 


SEND    NO   MONEY  — SENT   ON   APPROVAL — 

BONNIE  GAYE,   Inc.  Dept.  426 
207  S.  Gor field  Ave.,  Monterey  Pork,  Calif. 
Please    send    me    The    Beau-Drape.    I'll    pay 
postman  $10.98  plus  C.O.D.  postage  with  the 
understanding  I  may  return  dress  in  10  days 
for  full  refund  if  not  satisfied. 


SIZE 

1ST  COLOR  CHOICE 

2ND  COLOR  CHOICE 

74 


NAME 

ADDRESS. 
CITY 


-ZONE STATE. 


Bride  and  Groom 

(Continued  from  page  45) 


our  Bride  and  Groom  radio  program. 

Methods  of  proposal,  also,  refuse  to 
fall  into  any  pattern. 

But  it's  in  the  department  of  "Reasons 
For  Falling  in  Love"  that  we've  found 
the  greatest  variation.  I  remember  the 
first  time  Charlene  Koroske  of  Lansing, 
Michigan,  and  Edmond  Read,  Jr.  of 
Glendale,  California,  came  to  our  pro- 
gram-studio to  see  about  being  married 
in  connection  with  the  broadcast.  When 

I  asked  Charlene  how  she  and  Edmond 
had  fallen  in  love  with  each  other,  she 
laughed  and  said,  "Well,  I  guess  it  was 
because  of  half  a  sandwich,  half  an  or- 
ange, half  a  banana — plus  a  huge  trout 
named  'Pappy'l" 

II OT  even  three  years  of  talking  daily 

II  with  engaged  couples  and  newly- 
weds  had  prepared  me  for  that;  but 
Charlene  and  Edmond  assured  me  there 
was  a  logical  story  that  went  with  it — 
a  story  which  turned  out  to  be  one  of 
the  most  intriguing  romances  ever  told 
on  Bride  and  Groom. 

It  had  begun  many  months  before  in 
Los  Angeles,  where  Ed  was  attending  a 
school  of  photography  and  Charlene 
was  enrolled  in  a  school  for  models.  To 
provide  practical  experience,  the  two 
schools  made  arrangements  for  the  girls 
to  model  some  formal  gowns  while  the 
photography-students  took  pictures. 

"I  was  lucky  enough  to  draw  Edmond 
as  my  photographer,"  explained  Char- 
lene. "I  liked  him  from  the  first,  and 
I  kind  of  thought  he  liked  me,  too.  For 
one  thing,  even  though  the  other  pho- 
tographers left  the  minute  they  finished 
their  assignments,  Edmond  remained  in 
the  studio.  But  he  was  too  bashful  to 
talk  to  me — instead,  he  started  discuss- 
ing fishing  with  a  group  of  fellows." 

That  might  have  ended  the  story 
right  there,  but  Charlene  very  femi- 
ninely decided  to  end  the  impasse  by 
entering  into  the  discussion  of  what  was 
obviously  Ed's  favorite  sport.  "I 
thought  she  used  some  funny  terms  for 
a  girl  who  was  supposed  to  be  a  fishing- 
fan,"  Ed  laughed,  "but  she  seemed  so 
sincerely  interested  that  I  thought  'Ah, 
a  kindred  spirit — as  well  as  a  cute  gal!" 

Charlene  enjoyed  their  talk,  except 
for  two  things.  First,  she  had  never 
gone  fishing  in  her  life  and  didn't  think 
she'd  like  it  if  she  did  go.  Second,  it 
was  now  late  afternoon  and  Charlene 
hadn't  eaten  a  bite  since  breakfast.  But 
how  could  a  girl  bring  up  the  subject  of 
mere  food,  while  listening  to  Ed's  story 
about  a  fabulous  trout  named  Pappy? 

It  seemed  the  trout  had  become  al- 
most a  legend  at  Ed's  favorite  fishing 
spot,  not  only  for  its  unusual  size  but 
also  for  its  skill  in  eluding  the  hook. 
Every  fisherman  in  the  district  was 
after  Pappy,  and  the  one  who  landed 
him  would  be  the  recognized  champ. 

"And  I'm  going  to  be  the  one,"  Ed  was 
saying  enthusiastically.  "I've  got  a 
brand-new  fly  that'll  fool  even  Pappy. 
Why,  I'd  rather  fish  than  eat!" 

Perhaps  the  word  reminded  him  of 
the  time,  for  he  turned  apologetically  to 
Charlene,  saying,  "Say,  you  must  be 
getting  hungry.  How  about  having 
lunch  with  me?" 

Charlene  brightened  immediately — 
now  she  was  sure  she  liked  Ed.  And 
how  lucky  that  they'd  met  here  at  the 
photography  studio,  only  a  block  or  two 
from  the  famous  Sunset  Strip.  With 
visions  of  a  small  table  at  one  of  the 
exclusive  cafes,  she  said,  "I'd  love  to. 
But  let's  choose  some  quiet  place,  so  we 


can  go  on  talking  about  fishing!" 

The  next  moment  she  realized  she'd 
overplayed  the  role,  for  Ed  grinned 
happily  and  said,  "Swell;  I  brought  a 
lunch  from  home,  we  can  sit  in  the  park 
and  share  that." 

Charlene  still  laughs  at  the  remem- 
brance of  that  first  "lunch-date"  with 
Edmond.  "It  was  my  own  fault — I'd 
put  on  such  a  show  of  being  an  ardent 
angler,  that  Ed  just  took  it  for  granted 
that  it  didn't  matter  where  or  what  we 
ate,  long  as  we  could  discuss  fishing!  By 
that  time,  I  was  so  hungry  that  it  didn't 
matter  to  me,  either — just  so  we  ate." 

They  ate  something,  all  right.  The 
lunch,  a  small  package  carried  casually 
in  Ed's  side  pocket,  consisted  of  one 
sandwich,  one  orange,  and  one  banana! 
Ed  carefully  divided  each  item  in  half, 
explaining,  "I  didn't  expect  company,  or 
I'd  have  brought  more.  You  see,  I'm 
on  a  diet." 

"Even  then,  I  still  thought  he  was 
just  about  the  nicest  person  I'd  ever 
met,"  Charlene  said,  "but  when  he 
asked  me  for  a  date  for  later  that  week. 
I  made  up  my  mind  to  eat  a  hearty 
lunch  before  I  went!" 

Ed  made  up  for  that  first  lunch  by 
taking  her  to  one  of  the  nicest  restau- 
rants on  the  Strip  for  the  nicest  dinner 
on  the  menu.  But  fishing  was  still  the 
sole  topic  of  conversation.  "Several 
times  that  evening  Ed  would  look  at  me 
sort  of  admiringly,  and  start  to  say 
something,  then  switch  the  conversation 
right  back  to  discussion  of  bait." 

"It  was  because  she'd  thoroughly 
convinced  me  that  she  was  the  world's 
greatest  fishing  fan,"  Ed  explained.  "I 
kept  wanting  to  talk  about  all  the  things 
that  go  with  falling  head-over-heels  in 
love;  but  I  thought  she  was  interested 
in  me  only  because  I  liked  to  fish,  too!" 

OTHER  dates  followed— including 
Sunday  trips  to  the  beautiful  Mojave 
Desert,  covering  photographic  assign- 
ments for  magazines  and  newspapers — 
and  finally  Ed  and  Charlene  got  around 
to  discussing  some  of  the  "things  that 
go  with  falling  head-over-heels  in 
love."  Charlene,  realizing  that  this  was 
no  casual  friendship,  and  liking  Ed  more 
and  more  with  each  meeting,  tried  to 
summon  up  enough  courage  to  admit 
that  she  was  a  fraud  as  far  as  being  a 
fishing-fan  was  concerned.  But  Ed 
chose  that  moment  to  invite  her  on  an 
extra-special  date. 

"We'll  drive  up  to  Big  Bear  Lake 
Sunday — that's  where  Pappy,  the  trout, 
is!" 

It  was  the  final  accolade — a  fisherman 
inviting  a  girl  to  his  special  fishing  spot. 
Charlene  dismissed  the  idea  of  confess- 
ing; instead,  she  spent  the  week  reading 
up  on  "How  To  Fish,"  and  buying  a 
rod  and  reel." 

Sunday  was  a  perfect  day;  and  the 
drive  out  Rim  o'  The  World  highway, 
past  Lake  Arrowhead,  to  Big  Bear  Lake, 
was  a  perfect  setting  for  a  boy  and  a 
girl  in  love.  But  just  as  they  drove  up 
to  the  shore  of  Big  Bear  Lake,  clouds 
obscured  the  sun,  a  cold  wind  started 
blowing  across  the  water — they  were  in 
for  a  storm. 

"I  tried  to  keep  from  shivering,  as  we 
got  into  the  boat,  and  Ed  started  row- 
ing for  the  place  where  he'd  seen  the 
big  trout,"  Charlene  said.  "I  kept 
thinking  of  how  much  I  wanted  to  get  in 
out  of  the  rain  and  into  a  warm  place, 
but  I  knew  fishermen  didn't." 

"And  I  was   (Continued  on  page  76) 


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(Continued  from  page  74)  thinking  the 
same  thing,"  Ed  laughed,  "But  I  was 
afraid  to   suggest  it." 

When  they  got  to  the  fishing  spot, 
Ed  started  casting,  while  Charlene  tried 
to  figure  out  the  mystery  of  how  to  pre- 
pare her  rod,  tie  on  a  fly,  and  all  the 
other  intricate  things  that  any  self-re- 
specting fisherman  would  have  known. 

"I  kept  getting  it  more  and  more 
tangled  up,"  she  said.  "I  noticed  Ed 
was  watching  me  sort  of  puzzledly,  so 
I  decided  to  make  my  cast  whether  I 
was  ready  or  not." 

Her  cast  probably  set  a  new  world's 
record  for  awkwardness.  First,  she  al- 
most upset  the  boat;  second,  her  hook 
just  missed  embedding  itself  in  the 
dodging  Edmond;  and  third,  despite  all 
the  vigor  she  had  put  into  the  effort,  her 
fly  landed  two  feet  from  the  boat. 

Ed's  look  of  puzzlement  was  getting 
more  pronounced  than  ever,  and  Char- 
lene faced  the  inevitable — she  would 
have  to  confess  that  she  knew  nothing 
about  fishing  and  cared  less.  But  just 
as  she  opened  her  mouth,  a  trout  at  least 
a  foot  and  a  half  in  length  lunged 
through  the  water  in  front  of  her, 
grabbed  her  trout-fly,  and  raced  away. 
It  was  Pappy!  On  the  very  first  cast 
of  her  life,  Charlene  had  hooked  the 
champion  trout! 

Her  reel  screamed  as  the  huge  trout 
raced  away  with  her  line.  "Play  him! 
Give  him  slack!"  Ed  was  calling,  beside 
himself  with  excitement. 

It  was  too  late — all  the  line  was  out, 
and  the  improperly-tied  knot  was  no 
match  for  the  express-like  speed  of  the 
trout.  The  fly  parted,  and  Pappy  was 
gone  as  quickly  as  he  had  come.  For 
a  moment,  the  boy  and  the  girl  just 
stared  at  each  other,  then  Ed  said,  "You 
.  .  .  you  let  him  get  away." 

Sudden  warm  tears  joined  the  cold 
raindrops  on  Charlene's  cheeks,  and  her 
reserve  was  gone  as  she  sobbed,  "I 
couldn't  help  it!  I  don't  know  how  to 
fish!  I've  never  done  it  before  in  my 
life — I  always  hated  the  idea!" 

It  seemed  to  be  the  end  of  everything. 
"From  the  first,  I'd  taken  it  for  granted 
that  it  was  only  my  pretended  interest 
in  fishing  that  had  attracted  Edmond," 
said  Charlene.  "And  now,  for  him  to 
know  that  I  didn't  know,  and  hadn't 
cared,  anything  about  the  sport  that 
seemed  to  be  so  important  to  him!" 

"Imagine  how  I  felt,"  Edmond  said. 
"Here  I'd  been  talking  fishing  to  her 
every  time  we  met.  Partly,  of  course, 
because  it  is  my  favorite  sport;  but  also 
because  I  thought  it  was  the  one  thing 
in  which  she  was  interested.     What  a 


dope  I  must  have  seemed!" 

But  suddenly  a  thought  came  to  him 
— if  Charlene  had  pretended  about 
liking  to  fish,  knowing  it  was  his  hobby, 
then  that  must  mean  she  ...  He  didn't 
finish  the  sentence  in  his  mind;  instead, 
the  boat  was  wobbling  dangerously 
again  as  he  drew  her  into  his  arms. 

"All  the  fishing  in  the  world  isn't  one- 
millionth  as  important  as  this  one  mo- 
ment with  you,"  he  said  softly.  Char- 
lene's answer  was  the  raising  of  her  lips 
to  meet  his,  in  a  kiss  that  said  all  the 
things  mere  words  can  never  say. 

But  it  was  to  turn  out  even  more  per- 
fectly. When  Edmond  finally  said,  "Let's 
get  out  of  this  rain,  and  forget  about 
fishing,"  Charlene  shook  her  head. 

"No,"  she  said.  "I  told  you  I  hated 
fishing;  but  that  was  before  I  had  ever 
done  any.  The  thrill  I  got  from  feeling 
Pappy  when  he  struck  at  my  trout-fly — 
rain  or  no  rain,  I  want  to  stay  here  and 
keep  fishing!" 

She  was  serious  about  it,  too.  In  fact, 
by  the  time  they  announced  their  en- 
gagement, there  was  no  greater  fishing 
enthusiast  in  all  Southern  California! 

You  should  have  seen  their  faces 
when,  on  their  wedding  day  broadcast, 
we  told  them,  "You're  to  be  flown  by 
Western  Air  Line  to  Lake  Coeur 
d'Alene  in  Idaho — considered  one  of  the 
three  most  beautiful  lakes  in  the  world. 
In  addition  to  beauty,  it  rates  right  at 
the  top  of  the  list  as  a  fisherman's  para- 
dise!" 

The  whole  town  of  Coeur  d'Alene  took 
part  in  making  it  a  week  always  to  be 
remembered.  As  a  gag,  merchants  and 
various  clubs  had  set  up  an  outdoor 
"Honeymoon  Suite,"  furnished  with  a 
decrepit  cast-iron  stove,  a  broken-down 
bed,  and  an  ancient  dresser — in  hilari- 
ous contrast  to  the  costly  and  shining 
gifts  given  them  at  the  broadcast.  (The 
town  made  up  for  it  later,  though,  by 
ensconcing  Ed  and  Charlene  in  the 
bridal  suite  of  the  beautiful  Desert 
Hotel,  and  by  loading  them  down  with 
countless  gifts — new,  this  time — of  sil- 
ver, china,  and  household  furnishings.) 

There  was  even  a  "special  Honeymoon 
Plane  at  their  disposal  for  trips  to  near- 
by points  of  interest;  and  a  trim  craft 
with  lofty  sails  for  the  all-day  fishing 
trips,  and  for  leisurely  evenings  of  sail- 
ing through  the  moonlight. 

"We've  found  out  that  life  can  really 
be  a  magic  thing,"  Charlene  said  hap- 
pily. "And  that  all  your  dreams  can 
really  come  true — even  if  they  start  out 
with  only  half  a  sandwich,  half  an  or- 
ange, half  a  banana,  and  a  trout  named 
Pappy!" 


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Lazy  Day  Dinners 

(Continued  from  page   61) 
Condensed   Milk  Mayonnaise 


V4  cup  vinegar  or 

lemon  juice 
V*  cup  salad  oil 
%  cup  sweetened 
condensed  milk 


1  egg  yolk 
V2  teaspoon  salt 
1  teaspoon  dry  mustard 
dash  of  cayenne 
pepper 


Measure  ingredients  into  a  pint  jar 
in  order  listed,  cover  tightly  and  shake 
vigorously  for  2  minutes.  Store  in  re- 
frigerator. Will  thicken  on  standing. 
Serve  with  fruit  salads.  Makes  1% 
cups  dressing. 

Lemon   Honey  Dressing 

1  egg,  beaten 
Vi  cup  lemon  juice 
V2  cup  honey 
3  tablespoons  milk 
1  cup  cottage  cheese 
dash  of  salt 
dash  of  mace 

Combine  egg,  lemon  juice  and  honey 
in  top  of  double  boiler.  Cook  over  hot 
water  until  mixture  thickens,  stirring 
constantly.  Cool.  Stir  milk  into  cottage 
cheese,  beat  until  smooth.  Add  salt 
and  mace  and  blend  with  cooked  mix- 
ture.  Makes  1%  cups. 

Jellied    Ginger   Pear   Salad 

1  package  lemon-flavored  gelatin 
1  cup  water 
1  cup  gingerale 
V2  cup  seedless,  halved  grapes 

1  cup  diced  fresh  pears 
Vb  cup  chopped  nuts 

2  tablespoons  chopped  crystallized  ginger 
lettuce  and  mayonnaise 

Combine  the  gelatin  and  water.  Place 
over  low  heat  and  bring  to  boiling,  stir 
until  dissolved.  Add  gingerale  and 
chill.  When  slightly  thickened  fold  in 
fruit,  nuts  and  half  the  ginger.  Turn 
into  individual  custard  cups  or  molds; 
chill  until  firm.  Unmold  on  crisp  let- 
tuce, garnish  with  mayonnaise  and 
remaining  ginger.    Makes  6  servings. 

Popovers 

1  cup  sifted  all-purpose  flour 
1/2  teaspoon  salt 
1  teaspoon  sugar 

3  eggs 

1  cup  milk  or  V2  cup  evaporated  milk  plus 
V2  cup  water 

1  tablespoon  melted  shortening 

Before  starting  to  mix  the  popovers, 
heat  the  oven  to  very  hot  (450°  F.). 
Then  grease  heat-proof  glass  custard 
cups  or  muffin  pans  and  place  them  in 
the  oven  to  heat.  Sift  flour,  salt  and 
sugar  together.  Beat  eggs  until  frothy. 
Add  flour  mixture  and  half  of  the  milk, 
and  beat  with  a  rotary  beater  until 
ingredients  are  combined.  Add  re- 
maining milk  and  shortening  and  beat 
until  smooth.  Fill  hot,  greased  cups 
%  full  and  bake  in  a  very  hot  oven 
(450°  F.)  20  minutes.  Then  reduce 
heat  to  moderate  (350°  F.)  and  con- 
tinue baking  15  to  20  minutes.  Makes 
9  popovers. 

Orange  and  Black  Olive  Salad 

4  navel  oranges,  peeled  and  sliced 

2  onions,  thinly  sliced;  lettuce 
V2  cup  ripe  olives,  sliced 

Arrange  oranges  and  onions  on  let- 
tuce. Sprinkle  with  olives;  serve  with 
French  dressing.    Makes  6  servings. 


Wife  of  the  Week 

(Continued  from  page  31) 

Adams,  the  food  editor,  with  some  ques- 
tions about  my  "Paprikash"  recipe;  Vir- 
ginia Stewart,  an  associate  editor,  with 
questions  about  our  personal  back- 
ground; and  Georgette  Koehler  who 
wanted  to  know  if  we  preferred  plane 
or  train. 

We  took  a  big  four-motored  plane 
early  Tuesday  morning  that  brought  us 
into  LaGuardia  Field  in  less  than  two 
hours. 

Mrs.  Adams  was  waiting  for  us,  and 
she  was  so  gay  and  such  fun  that  we  felt 
that  we  had  arrived  at  a  party.  After 
we  were  settled  and  brushed  up,  she 
took  us  over  to  The  Drake  to  meet  Miss 
Stewart  for  lunch  and  to  talk  about  the 
script  that  was  to  be  written  that  after- 
noon while  we  were  having  fun  going 
sightseeing  and  shopping  in  New  York. 

ONE  of  the  first  things  Miss  Stewart 
said  was,  "Aren't  you  proud  of  the 
letter  your  husband  wrote  about  you?" 
and  I  had  to  admit  that,  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  was  being  really 
mean  to  me,  and  that  I  had  not  seen  it 
yet. 

Tickets  for  that  evening  had  been  pro- 
vided for  the  hit  musical,  "Annie  Get 
Your  Gun."  Because  the  seats  had  been 
gotten  at  the  last  moment,  I  did  not 
think  they  could  possibly  be  very  good, 
so  I  took  along  my  opera  glasses.  But 
someone  had  a  lot  of  pull.  They  were 
in  the  fifth  row!  But  Frank  used  the 
opera  glasses,  anyway,  on  a  pretty 
brunette  in  the  chorus. 

"Don't  complain,"  he  said.  "I  said  in 
my  letter  that  you  were  never  jealous." 

"What  else  did  you  say?"  I  whispered, 
but  he  just  laughed  and  kept  on  looking 
at  the  brunette. 

A  table  had  been  reserved  in  The 
Warwick's  Raleigh  Room  for  the  supper 
show,  so  we  danced  and  felt  very  gay. 

The  next  morning  at  nine  we  went 
just  a  few  blocks  to  Radio  City  for  re- 
hearsals and  to  meet  Betty  Crocker.  She 
is  a  delightful  person,  just  as  pretty  and 
friendly  as  her  voice  on  the  air,  and  the 
minute  you  meet  her  you  feel  that  you 
have  known  her  always. 
'  Win  Elliot,  the  master  of  ceremonies, 
is  tall,  thin  and  gives  you  the  impression 
that  he  is  having  a  lot  of  fun  all  of  the 
time. 

We  ran  through  the  program  once 
with  Ted  Corday,  the  director,  and  he 
was  so  easy  and  amusing  that  we  were 
not  nervous  at  all  when  time  came  to  go 
on  the  air,  both  because  we  felt  that  we 
knew  everybody  and  because  we  knew 
exactly  what  was  going  to  be  asked  us. 

There  is  no  curtain,  but  otherwise  the 
studio  looks  like  a  luxurious  little  thea- 
ter seating  about  fifty  people.  On  the 
stage  there's  a  sink,  an  electric  stove,  a 
table  and  chairs  in  front  of  a  yellow  tile 
background.  Frank's  special  noodle  pan 
was  in  place  over  the  pot  of  boiling 
water. 

This  pan  is  a  gadget  that  Frank  had 
made  especially  for  us.  How  good  the 
dish  tastes  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
shape  of  the  noodles — but  this  gadget 
makes  them  come  out  in  a  shape  we  like. 
It  is  an  ordinary  light-weight  eight-inch 
'frying  pan  with  about  twenty  holes, 
each  half  an  inch  in  diameter,  bored  in 
the  bottom.  One  firm  swipe  of  a  spoon 
forces  the  dough  in  little  almond  shapes 
through  the  holes  and  into  the  boiling 
water  below. 

All  of  this  kept  us  busy  so  I  had  no 
time  to  get  nervous  and  before  I  knew  it 
we  were  on  the  air  and  at  last  I  was  hear- 


©1*r 


liitir 


use  HELENE  CURTIS 


ua&Gj 


the  Cosmetic  for  hair ... 
greaseless ...  not  a  hair  oil 


WHAT    SUAVE    IS  .  .  . 

The  amazing  discovery  beauticians  recommend  to 
make  hair  wonderfully  easy  to  arrange  and  keep  in 
place  .  .  .  cloud-soft  .  .  .  romantically  lustrous  .  .  . 
alive  with  dancing  highlights  .  .  .  control-able  even 
after  shampoo  .  .  .  safe  from  sun's  drying  action! 
For  the  whole  family,  men-folks,  too. 
Rinses  out  in  a  twinkling. 

WHAT    SUAVE    IS    IVOT 

NOT  a  greasy  "slicker  downer"  .  .  .  not  a  hair  oil, 
lacquer  or  pomade  .  .  .  NOT  an  upholstery 
"smearer"  .  .  .  not  a  dirt  collector  .  .  .  not  smelly 
.  .  .  NOT  drying;  no  alcohol  .  .  .  not  sticky  .  .  . 

*some  pronounce  it  "suoahv"  .  .  .  others  say 
"stoayv" .  .  .  either  way  it  means  beautiful  hair. 


AT   YOUR    BEAUTY   SHOP,    DRUG   STOKE,    l»il'VltTMK\T    STORE 


79 


DREADED  MS  i 

CM  BE  1 

ACTIVE  MS    \ 

i 

i 
i 

NHIEVtS  FUNCTIONAL         | 

PERIODIC  PAIN  1 

CRAMPS-HEADACHE -"BLUES" 

"What  a  DIFFERENCE 
Midol  /^\ 
makes" 


80 


ing  the  famous  letter  as  Frank  read  it, 
himself. 

"Dear  Betty  Crocker:  I  wrote  so 
many  letters  while  I  was  in  service 
that  I  thought  I  would  never  will- 
ingly write  another  letter  again,  but 
after  hearing  your  program  I  felt  I 
had  to  write  to  you  about  my  wife 
who  has  been  the  staff  of  my  life 
and  who  has  kept  me  going  many 
times  when  the  way  seemed  too 
rough  to  go  on.  We  eloped  eighteen 
years  ago,  shortly  after  finishing 
college,  and  announced  this  world- 
shattering  event  to  our  families  and 
friends  fourteen  months  later.  That 
was  during  the  depression,  but  we 
were  young  and  had  no  idea  of  the 
value  of  a  dollar  so  we  spent  prac- 
tically every  cent  we  had  on  a  West 
Indies  cruise.  What  a  rude  awaken- 
ing I  had  when  we  settled  in  our 
own  flat  and  I  discovered  that  I 
could  not  stretch  my  bank  teller's 
salary  to  cover  our  expenses!" 

The  studio  faded  out  as  I  listened,  and 
my  memory  drifted  back  to  the  first 
time  I  met  my  husband  and  both  of  us 
fell  in  love  at  first  sight.  It  was  in  a 
corridor  at  the  University  of  Buffalo, 
my   current  best  beau   introduced   us! 

We  had  no  idea  of  marrying  until  we 
had  finished  college,  but  pretty  soon 
Frank  began  to  talk  about  getting  a  job. 
Both  families  approved  the  match  but 
were  firm  against  a  quick  marriage. 
They  thought  we  were  entirely  too 
young  and  should  wait  until  Frank  was 
graduated  and  established.  But  we  were 
so  much  in  love  that  we  thought  a  secret 
marriage  would  be  romantic. 

"Our  parents  were  right,"  Frank 
was  reading  into  the  microphone. 
"I  couldn't  support  a  wife  but  I 
wouldn't  admit  it  to  them." 

Thinking  back,  I  am  so  glad  that  he 
wouldn't!  It  was  a  great  temptation  to 
accept  help,  because  we  needed  so  many 
things.  But  we  didn't.  If  you  are  ever 
going  to  make  a  success  of  your  busi- 
ness— and  your  homemaking  is  your 
business — your  very  first  obligation  is 
to  get  along  on  what  your  husband 
makes.  Of  course  our  families  did  lov- 
ing things  for  us,  like  giving  us  some 
furniture  and  little  treats,  but  we  posi- 
tively refused  any  real  assistance.  This 
gave  us  a  glorious  feeling,  but  the  fact 
remained  that  between  my  inexperi- 
ence and  Frank's  generosity,  we  were 
always  running  out  of  money. 

"I  explained  the  situation  to  my 
bride,"  Frank  was  reading,  "and  I 
decided  to  let  her  take  over  and 
see  what  she  could  do.  She  did 
well,  and  got  us  through  that  and 
an  even  worse  period  when  the 
bank  where  I  was  employed  went 
on  a  part-time  basis  and  I  brought 
home  $15  a  week.  You  will  admit 
this  was  a  feat,  especially  for  an 
only  child  whose  parents  were  only 
too  happy  to  give  her  anything  she 
wanted.  In  fact  she  did  so  well  she 
has  been  the  financial  manager  ever 
since." 

"Poor  Frank,"  I  thought.  "How  sweet 
of  him  to  be  grateful  after  what  I  did  to 
him!"  I  think  that  when  a  woman  is 
made  responsible  for  the  family  money 
she  is  apt  to  be  more  careful  than  a  man 
to  start  with,  but  I  squeezed  every  nickel 
so  hard  that  I  bet  those  Indians  never 
recovered.  We  went  on  an  iron-clad 
budget.   Frank,   who  had   always  been 


used  to  money,  was  cut  down  to  $2.50  a 
week. 

"She  enjoyed  keeping  house  and 
cooking  (though  frankly  I  had  to 
teach  her  practically  everything) 
until  now  she  has  built  up  a  reputa- 
tion as  a  home  maker.  She  devotes 
herself  entirely  to  being  a  home 
maker  and  can't  understand  why  it 
bores  so  many  women,  because  to 
her  way  of  thinking  it  combines 
more  activities  than  any  other  job." 

That's  true.  I  can't  think  of  anything 
that  is  more  enjoyable  than  making  a 
comfortable  pleasant  home  for  the  one 
man  who  is  the  most  important  person  in 
the  world  to  you.  At  the  start  I  spent  all 
day  shining  up  my  house.  Frank  was 
certainly  right  in  saying  that  I  had 
a  lot  to  learn.  It  wasn't  until  I  began  to 
manage  the  money  that  it  occurred  to 
me  to  do  any  of  the  washing  myself,  for 
instance. 

"I  think  I  better  get  a  washing  ma- 
chine," I  said  to  Frank's  mother. 

So  she  gave  me  twenty  dollars  as  a 
present  to  start  my  laundry  fund,  and  I 
started  to  save.  We  never  have  bought 
anything  on  time,  and  I  think  it  is  an 
excellent  rule. 

I  was  terribly  glad  that  we  were  not 
involved  in  time  payments  when  that 
major  blow  fell,  and  Frank  was  put  on 
half-time  with  a  salary  of  $15  a  week. 
I  thought  he  was  unbalanced  by  the 
shock  when  he  told  me  and  then  added, 
"Let's  take  a  vacation  in  Florida.  If 
I'm  going  to  worry,  I'd  rather  worry  in 
comfort  in  the  sun." 

He  wasn't  kidding,  either.  We  took 
the  meager  savings  we  had  been  ac- 
cumulating for  a  vacation,  drove  down 
with  some  friends  of  the  family  and  did 
our  worrying  in  Miami!  As  a  matter  of 
fact,  Frank  had  been  working  hard  and 
could  use  the  break  then,  instead  of  at 
normal  vacation  time. 

Things  picked  up  slowly.  Frank  went 
back  to  work  at  the  bank,  eventually  at 
full  salary.  It  was  still  small  but  we 
saved  a  little  each  week,  not  for  any 
special  purpose  but  just  as  a  matter  of 
policy,  and  I  was  very  glad  that  we  had 
later.  We  might  never  have  attempted 
building  a  house  if  we  had  not  had 
enough  saved  to  buy  a  lot.  When  my 
father  became  ill  and  we  wanted  him 
with  us  we  were  worried  because  our 
flat  was  small.  We  didn't  know  the  an- 
swer until  one  evening  a  friend  said, 
"Why  don't  you  build?  I'll  give  you  a 
mortgage." 

It  was  a  brand  new  idea.  We  got  out 
paper  and  pencils  as  if  it  were  a  game, 
but  with  the  drawing  of  the  first  line  we 
were  off  in  full  cry  on  a  wonderful  new 
enterprise. 

"The  spoiled  little  girl  I  married 
became  a  fine  woman  who  took  care 
of  both  of  her  parents  during  their 
last  lingering  illness,  though  at  the 
time  she  was  far  from  well  herself. 
She  also  nursed  her  grandmother 
until  she  passed  on,  too.  Then  I  was 
very  nervous  and  had  a  hard  time 
finding  a  job  as  good  as  the  one  I 
had  left  to  go  into  service,  so  for  a 
whole  year  I  did  nothing.  Many 
women  would  have  complained  bit- 
terly over  this  seemingly  wasted 
time  but  my  wife  said  nothing  and 
just  let  me  alone  until  I  got  on  my 
feet  by  myself.  Any  veteran  who 
has  gone  through  such  a  miserable 
period  of  adjustment  will  appre- 
ciate what   I  mean." 

I  felt  like  crying  when  I  heard 
Frank  tell  the  whole  country  about  this 


period  of  our  lives  because,  while  it  was 
a  difficult  time  for  me,  it  was  a  dread- 
fully hard  one  for  him  in  more  ways 
than  one.  When  he  went  into  uniform, 
he  was  a  very  well-established  and 
prominent  member  of  our  community. 
He  had  been  the  president  of  the  Lacka- 
wanna Food  Merchants  Association  for 
nine  years,  was  former  president  of  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce  and  was  then 
serving  as  treasurer.  He  held  the  sales 
promotion  managership  of  the  largest 
independent  bakery  in  Lackawanna.  We 
had  two  cars,  two  saddle  horses  and  our 
own  home,  so  it  was  hard  for  him  to  ad- 
just to  the  orders  and  general  kicking 
around  that  a  younger  private  may  not 
mind,  but  that  an  older  man  finds  hard 
to  take.  Then  he  went  through  the  land- 
ing at  Oran,  spent  months  in  Africa  all 
through  those  tough  campaigns.  He 
weighed  215  when  he  went  in,  and  167 
when  he  came  out. 

Frank  was  very  nervous  during  the 
first  months  at  home.  He  didn't  want  to 
go  anywhere  or  see  anybody.  He  just 
wanted  to  sit  around  the  house — so  I  sat 
with  him,  talked  when  he  wanted  to 
talk,  kept  still  when  he  wanted  to  be 
silent. 

To  have  him  thank  me  in  his  letter 
and  over  the  air  for  doing  what  any 
loving  wife  would  do  made  a  lump  come 
into  my  throat.  I  thought  I  would  never 
be  able  to  say  what  was  expected  of  me, 
but  Betty  Crocker  caught  my  eye,  gave 
me  a  sort  of  a  gay  little  smile,  and  I  was 
all  right  again. 

"Now  I  am  in  business  and  my 
wife  continues  to  give  me  encour- 
agement and  support.  She  gets  up 
at  5:30  to  give  me  a  good  breakfast 
and  has  lunch  and  dinner  ready  for 
me  whenever  I  have  a  chance  to  get 
home  to  eat.  I  show  up  anywhere 
between  6  and  8  o'clock  and  some- 
how or  other  she  always  has  a  de- 
licious hot  meal  ready  for  me.  By 
the  time  she  finishes  the  dishes  it  is 
generally  too  late  to  go  out,  but  she 
always  finds  something  to  occupy 
her  time  and  never  reproaches  me." 

"What  would  I  reproach  you  for?"  I 
thought.  Frank  is  putting  in  twelve 
hours  a  day  hard  work  for  me  as  much 
as  for  himself.  He  had  decided  to  go 
into  business  for  himself,  and  when  the 
opportunity  to  buy  the  Gerstung  Dairy 
came  along,  and  he  showed  his  old 
eagerness  and  enthusiasm,  I  knew  that 
he  had  done  the  right  thing  to  put  the 
effects  of  his  war  years  completely  in 
his  past. 

"If  only  I  could  make  you  see  what 
a  comfortable,  liveable  home  my 
wife  has  made  for  the  two  of  us  who 
could  so  easily  become  dull  and 
stuffy!  You  know,  Betty  Crocker, 
I  think  it  is  harder  to  make  a  real 
home  for  two  than  for  a  family.  My 
wife  has  succeeded  in  this  and  it 
isn't  just  my  opinion.  Many  of  our 
friends  comment  on  the  peaceful, 
cosy  atmosphere  of  our  home.  Be- 
lieve me,  after  twelve  hours  of  work 
and  worry  it  is  my  haven  of  peace. 
Don't  get  the  idea  that  my  wife  is 
stuffy  because  she  spends  so  much 
time  making  me  comfortable.  She  is 
a  red-head  and  you  know  you  can 
always  depend  on  a  red-head  to 
make  life  interesting.  I  am  sure  she 
deserves  to  be  made  one  of  your 
Homemakers  of  the  Week,  and  I'll 
be  waiting  to  hear  an  announcement 
over  WKBW  any  day.  Very  truly 
yours, 

Frank  S.  Pillion" 


T 

n 

Tl 

^~  3 

1 

r\ 

1 1 

In 

LrJ 

JA 

<j  KMnHI)  Yj*$  CM 

li«c^ni^«w«        ggpMBMUK^    Mf^"-"™^^ 


MADE  IN  PHIIA. 
BY  FEIS  &  CO. 


Fels-Naptha  Soap  Chips  are  sold  in 
just  this  one  generous  package  .  .  . 
millions  of  women  prefer  these 
husky,  active  Fels-Naptha  Soap 
Chips  to  any  package  soap  or 
substitute  .  .  .  regardless  of  price. 


31 


82 


>•  Test  FRESH  yourself  at  our  expense.  See  if  FRESH  isn't  more  effec- 
tive, creamier,  smoother  than  any  deodorant  you've  ever  tried.  Only  FRESH 
can  use  the  patented  combination  of  amazing  ingredients  which  gives  you 
this  safe,  smooth  cream  that  doesn't  dry  out . . .  that  really  stops  perspira- 
tion better.  Write  to  FRESH,  Chrysler  Building,  New  York,  for  a  free  jar. 


Now  you  know  what  a  prize-winning 
letter  sounds  like.  Win  Elliot  pinned  a 
beautiful  orchid  on  my  shoulder,  but  I 
felt  that  Frank  had  laid  down  a  carpet 
of  orchids  from  coast  to  coast  for  me  to 
walk  on,  first  by  feeling  the  way  he  did 
and  second  by  saying  it  so  beautifully. 

The  whole  thing  made  me  feel  like  a 
bride.  Particularly  our  presents — a 
pressure  cooker  and  an  iron,  a  set  of 
hollow  ground  carving  knives  in  a  red- 
wood case,  a  blanket  wardrobe  and  a 
very  sizable  shipment  of  the  products  of 
Betty  Crocker's  sponsor. 

Thursday  morning  we  went  back  to 
see  the  Magazine  of  the  Air  again,  and 
by  this  time  Frank  was  a  veteran  radio 
performer  and  covered  himself  with 
glory  in  the  Homemaker's  Quiz  part  of 
the  program.  The  show  is  run  like  a 
magazine:  features  on  home  care, 
beauty,  food,  interviews  with  famous 
people  .  .  .  something  different  every 
day.  Thursday  is  the  day  when  the 
guest  is  like  a  true  story,  and  Allen 
Funt,  the  man  who  is  known  for  his 
adventures  with  a  Candid  Microphone, 
was  there  to  tell  how  he  worked. 

We  said  goodbye  with  the  feeling  that 
we  had  had  the  most  novel  holiday,  got 
back  on  the  plane  and  were  home  Thurs- 
day night. 

Home  always  has  looked  wonderful  to 
me,  but  it  seemed  doubly  so  because  I 
was  seeing  it  as  my  husband  had  de- 
scribed it  to  millions  of  people  who  were 
listening.  I  felt  proud  of  it,  and  proud 
of  what  we  had  done  together  in  build- 
ing it,  but  most  of  all  I  felt  proud  of  him. 

Mrs.  Pillion's  Recipe  for  Noodles 
(serves  two) 

2  cups  of  Gold  Medal  flour 

one  half  teaspoon  of  salt 

one  egg 

one  cup  of  water 
Beat  the  egg  in  the  water  and  add  to  the 
salt  and  flour.  Stir  until  smooth.  Then 
cut  small  pieces  of  the  dough  into  rap- 
idly boiling  salted  water.  Let  them  cook 
until  they  rise  to  the  top.  Drain,  rinse, 
drain  again  and  then  add  them  to  the 
chicken  prepared  as  follows: 

Mrs.  Pillion's  Chicken  Paprikash 

Have  the  butcher  cut  up  a  four-  to 
six-pound  roasting  chicken  in  serving 
pieces.  It  is  essential  to  have  a  kettle 
with  a  tight  cover  so  that  no  steam  can 
escape.  We  use  a  Dutch  oven.  In  the 
kettle  brown  lightly  two  medium  sliced 
onions  in  about  two  tablespoons  of  fat. 
Then  brown  the  chicken  in  the  same  fat, 
adding  a  tablespoon  of  salt  and  a  quarter 
of  a  teaspoon  of  black  pepper,  a  teaspoon 
of  paprika,  one  big  bay  leaf  and  a  couple 
of  shakes  of  cayenne  "pepper. 

When  the  chicken  is  browned,  add  a 
cup  of  water,  cover,  turn  down  the  heat 
and  cook  for  about  an  hour  until  the 
chicken   is   tender. 

Then  add  one  half  pint  of  sour  cream 
and  more  salt,  pepper  and  paprika,  ac- 
cording to  taste.  We  like  it  very  highly 
salted  because  the  noodles  are  bland  and 
can  stand  a  highly  seasoned  gravy. 

Add  the  noodles  and  let  them  mari- 
nate with  chicken  and  gravy  for  about 
15  minutes. 

This  amount  of  chicken  will  serve 
many  more  than  two,  so  expand  the 
noodle  recipe  according  to  the  number 
of  guests.  I  allow  one  cup  of  flour  for 
each  person  because  everyone  loves  the 
noodles. 

With  this,  all  we  ever  serve  is  a  green 
salad.  We  have  served  extra  vegetables 
on  occasion,  but  no  one  seems  to  want 
them. 


Tex- Jinx  Productions 

(Continued  from  page  49) 

to  it.  That  was  the  real  plan  behind 
Tex-Jinx  Productions." 

What  about  color  television,  I  wanted 
to  know?  How  long  before  that  would 
be  here,  and  were  they  interested? 

"I  can't  say  how  long  before  color 
television  will  be  here — I  doubt  that 
anyone  would  want  to  give  you  even  an 
approximate  time,  but  we  are  definitely 
interested  in  color — in  fact  this  room 
was  planned  for  a  color  television  show 
to  originate  here."  He  waved  a  hand 
in  the  general  direction  of  the  luscious 
greens,  yellows,  and  prints  of  the  room. 

"Yes,"  Jinx  put  in.  "Our  presenta- 
tions start  out  in  black  and  white  and 
toward  the  end  of  the  portfolio,  they  go 
into  color."  (In  case  you  don't  know, 
a  presentation  is  the  very  elaborate  out- 
line of  a  proposed  radio  or  television 
program  that  is  "presented"  for  the 
consideration  of  an  agency  or  network.) 

Tex  believes  that  there  won't  be 
much  daylight  tele  for  a  while — except 
baseball  and  special  events,  of  course- 
but  he  does  think  that  very  soon  the 
8:00  to  9:00  A.M.  hour  will  become 
important  on  television — catching  just 
about  everyone  at  breakfast  somewhere 
within  the  hour. 

He  is  unconditionally  against  televis- 
ing regularly  scheduled  radio  shows 
per  se.  Thinks  the  classic  remark  that 
"television  cannot  be  radio  with  a  peep- 
hole" covers  that  situation.  There 
simply  isn't  enough  visual  interest  in 
people,  no  matter  how  talented,  stand- 
ing before  microphones  reading  scripts. 

I  was  personally  very  interested  to 
know  what  he  thought  about  Holly- 
wood. So  far  the  film  capital  has  been 
extremely  uncooperative  as  far  as  video 
is  concerned.  There  is  an  absolute 
"Verboten"  sign  on  the  tele  rights  to 
any  good  Hollywood  picture. 

"I  think  you'll  find  a  relaxation  of 
restrictions  very  shortly,"  Tex  said, 
"and  even  better  than  that,  actual  co- 
operation. I've  been  talking  with  Mr. 
Paul  Reyburn,  of  Paramount  Pictures, 
and  he  stands  for  full  cooperation  with 
video." 

We  all  had  some  iced  coffee  at  this 
point,  and  the  McCrarys  started  in- 
terviewing me  How  did  I  like  being  a 
television  editor?  What  all  did  it  en- 
tail? How  was  my  husband?,  etc.,  etc. 
As  we  talked  I  realized  that  here  was 
a  manifestation  of  one  of  the  nicest 
things  about  Jinx  Falkenburg  and  Tex 
McCrary — no  matter  how  busy  or  im- 
portant they  get,  they  always  seem  to 
be  interested  in  you;  and  that  surely  is 
the  secret  of  a  stimulating  and  happy 
way  of  life! 


cJLi&ten  when 
KATE 
SMITH 
SPEAKS 


15  Minutes  with  Radio's  charming  personality 

Noon  D.S.T.  Monday-Friday 

Mutual  Stations 


Would  John HowM® 


U^UOmmmg 


He's  Charmed? 


RUTH  HUSSEY  AND  JOHN  HOWARD,  APPEARING  IN 
"I,  JANE  DOE",  A  REPUBLIC  PICTURE 

Ruth  Hussey  discloses: 

"John  has  high  standards  of  charm.  A  girl's 
hands,  for  instance,  must  be  flawlessly  smooth 
and  soft."  Ruth  has  those  charming  hands. 
"Thanks  to  Jergens  Lotion,"  she  says.  The  Stars  use 
Jergens  7  to  1  over  any  other  hand  care. 

Charm  your  own  man    with,  even  smoother,  softer  hands 
today.  Do  as  the  Stars  do  — use  Jergens  Lotion.  Finer 
than  ever  now,  due  to  recent  research.  Protects 
even  longer,  too.  Two  ingredients  in  Jergens  are 
so  excellent  for  skin-smoothing  and  softening 
that  many  doctors  use  them.  Still  10<i  to 
$1.00  (plus  tax)  for  today's  Jergens  Lotion. 
Lovely.  No  oiliness;  no  stickiness. 


Used  by  More  Women  than 

Any  Other  Hand  Care  in  the  World 


*^!c« 


For  the  Softest,  Adorable  Hands,  use  Jergens  Lotion 


83 


Love-quiz 


. . .  For  Married  Folks  Only 


WHAT  SINGLE  MISTAKE  THREATENS 
HER  ONCE  HAPPY  MARRIAGE? 

A.  This  foolish  wife  failed  to  take  one  of  the  first  steps  usually 
important  to  marital  compatibility. 

Q.    What  is  that  first  step  so  vital  to  continual  marital  congeniality? 

A.  A  wise  wife  practices  sound,  safe  feminine  hygiene  to  safe- 
guard her  daintiness  with  a  scientifically  correct  preparation 
for  vaginal  douching  .  .  .  "Lysol"  in  proper  solution. 

Q.    Aren't  salt  or  soda  effective  enough? 

A.  No,  indeed!  Homemade  "makeshift"  solutions  can't  compare 
with  "Lysol"  in  germ  killing  power.  "Lysol"  is  gentle  to 
sensitive  membranes,  yet  powerful  against  germs  and  odors 
.  .  .  effective  in  the  presence  of  mucus  and  other  organic 
matter.  Kills  germs  on  contact — stops  objectionable  odors. 

Q.    Do  doctors  recommend  "Lysol"? 

A.  Many  leading  doctors  advise  their  patients  to  douche  regu- 
larly with  "Lysol"  brand  disinfectant  just  to  insure  daintiness 
alone.  Safe  to  use  as  often  as  you  want.  No  greasy  after- 
effect. Three  times  as  many  women  use  "Lysol"  for  feminine 
hygiene  as  all  other  liquid  products  combined! 


KEEP  DESIRABLE,  by  douching  regularly  with  "Lysol."  Remember— no 
other  product  for  feminine  hygiene  is  safer  than  "Lysol".  .  .  no  other 
product  is  more  effective! 


For  Feminine  Hygiene 
rely  on  safe,  effective 


84 


Easy  to  use  .  .  .  economical 
A  Concentrated  Germicide 


FREE  BOOKLET!  Learn  the  truth  about  intimate 
hygiene  and  its  important  role  in  married  happiness. 
Mail  this  coupon  to  Lehn  &  Fink,  1 92  Bloomfleld 
Avenue,  Bloomfleld,  N.  J.,  for  frankly  informing 
FREE  booklet. 


STREET. 


CITY. 


-STATE. 


Product  of  Lehn  &  Fink 


Heigh-Ho  Video 

{Continued  jrom  page  50) 

Incidentally,  if  Vallee's  magic  touch 
applies  to  TV  as  it  did  to  radio,  the 
aforementioned  Miss  Raine  has  a  bright 
future.  Rudy  is  credited  with  giving 
the  initial  break  to  many  of  today's  top 
performers,  such  as  Edgar  Bergen,  Bob 
Burns,  Joan  Davis,  Alice  Faye,  Frances 
Langford,  Larry  Adler,  and  many  more. 
There  is  reason,  therefore,  to  suppose 
that  he  will  discover  future  television 
greats.  Rudy  has  never  been  reluctant 
to  share  the  spotlight  with  new  and 
promising  talent.  He  still  remembers 
his  own  start,  and  how  much  a  little 
help  meant. 

Rudy  began  his  trek  up  show  business 
road  by  giving  out  with  the  taps  on  a 
drum  in  his  high  school  band.  With  the 
aid  of  a  saxophone  he  paid  for  his  col- 
lege education.  During  the  summer 
following  his  graduation  from  Yale,  he 
toured  New  England  with  a  small  dance 
band.  That  fall  he  counted  his  money 
and  decided  the  time  had  come  for  him 
to  try  his  luck  in  New  York.  His  first 
job  there  was  a  one-night  engagement 
with  Vincent  Lopez  at  a  benefit  for 
the  Hebrew  Orphan  Asylum  on  De- 
cember 4,  1927.  Several  widely 
spaced  one-night  jobs  followed  with 
Lopez  and  with  the  late  Ben  Bernie's 
band. 

Deciding  that  it  would  be  just  as  easy 
to  be  an  unemployed  band  leader  as  it 
was  to  be  an  unemployed  saxophonist, 
Vallee  organized  his  own  group.  Don 
Dickerman,  a  well-known  night  club 
impresario,  booked  the  new  orchestra 
into  the  Heigh-Ho  Club  and  the  rest  is 
history.  From  1928  until  he  enlisted  in 
the  U.  S.  Coast  Guard  in  World  War  II, 
Rudy  was  a  top  radio  personality  and 
had  also  established  himself  as  a  fine 
comedian  in  motion  pictures.  His  most 
recent  chore  is  the  wonderful  character- 
zation  in  "I  Remember  Mama." 

Everyone  who  is  interested  in  tele- 
vision is  cheered  by  the  fact  that  Rudy 
is  bringing  his  showmanship  and  ex- 
perience to  the  new  field.  Vallee- 
Video,  Inc.  (which  is  what  Rudy  calls 
his  new  company)  is  as  hopeful  an  in- 
fant as  the  television  industry  itself. 
He  says,  "We  of  Vallee-Video  are  doing 
it  for  the  fun,  for  the  thrill  and  the 
challenge  that  the  making  of  films  for 
television  presents  to  us.  We've  em- 
barked upon  this  project  of  preparing 
and  making  as  many  of  these  Video- 
films  as  possible  for  the  voracious  de- 
mand that  is  sure  to  come." 


/4Ccut  *&add 

as 

Vast'ZtoCicUiy 

mr^: 

of 

MBS's  BOX  13  is  more  than 

a   match  for  a  criminal   (as 

usual)  in  OCTOBER  RADIO 

MIRROR'S    exciting    picture 

story 

Hoagy  Carmichael 

(Continued  from  page  59) 

songs  too,  and  she  and  Hoagy  proceeded 
to  do  one  or  two  more  together. 

When  they  met  again  in  New  York  at 
Hoagy's  midtown  apartment  Helen's 
kid  sister,  Ruth,  was  along. 

"I  didn't  pay  much  attention,"  Hoagy 
confesses. 

And  Ruth — Mrs.  Carmichael  since 
1936 — adds  that  he  was  "the  rudest  man 
I  ever  met.  But  I  knew  right  away 
I  wanted  to  marry  him." 

"I  was  a  smart  aleck,"  Hoagy  teases 
her,  "but  adorable." 

Their  romance  was  one  of  those  on- 
again,  off-again  things  which  drive  the 
gossip  columnists  crazy.  At  one  point, 
Ruthie,  after  one  "last"  blow-up,  took 
a  boat  to  England,  through  with  Hoagy 
for  good. 

As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  Hoagy  says, 
he  knew  he  shouldn't  have  let  her  out 
of  his  sight.  He  went  half-way  to  meet 
her  homecoming  ship — although  he 
swears  he  had  always  hankered  for  a 
vacation  in  Barbados — and  when  they 
heard  Winchell  announce  their  "en- 
gagement" a  few  days  later  over  the 
ship's  radio,  Hoagy  gallantly  remarked: 

"Well,  now  I'm  really  stuck." 

But  he  didn't  mean  it. 

THE  Menardi-Carmichael  wedding 
was  an  occasion  which  the  hepsters  in 
New  York  still  recall  with  nostalgia. 
The  ceremony  at  five  in  the  afternoon 
drew  more  musicians  into  the  Fifth 
Avenue  Presbyterian  church  than  had 
ever  been  at  church  in  their  lives,  and 
the  reception  later — with  the  hottest 
band  in  New  York,  Bunny  Berrigan, 
Eddie  Condon,  all  of  the  "boys" — drew 
even  more. 

The  bride  almost  didn't  make  the  re- 
ception. The  horse-drawn  carriage 
which  the  best  man  had  hired  senti- 
mentally to  bring  the  wedding  couple 
from  the  church  to  the  party,  stopped 
at  the  curbing  in  front  of  Hoagy's 
apartment  hotel  and  the  bridegroom 
hopped  out.  He  held  up  a  hand  to  help 
down  his  bride — but  the  horse,  car- 
riage, and  bride  were  half  a  block 
away,  Ruthie  screaming  back  for  some- 
body to  stop  them.  Ruth  swears — but 
not  too  seriously  —  that  the  horse 
started  to  run  away  before  Hoagy 
jumped  out. 

It  was  quite  a  party.  George  Gersh- 
win played — as  a  preview — the  entire 
score  for  a  new  show  he  had  just  writ- 
ten, "Porgy  and  Bess."  After  which 
Hoagy's  father,  having  recovered  from 
his  suspicions  of  the  music  world, 
moved  in  and  said,  "Now  George,  I 
want  you  to  hear  some  real  piano  play- 
ing."    He  meant  by  his  lawyer-son. 

The  Carmichaels  came  to  Hollywood 
wrapped  in  the  aura  of  that  now- 
famous  party.  Probably  that  accounts 
for  the  fact  that  whatever  they  do  now 
takes  on  the  aspects  of  a  jam  session. 

All  of  his  success  and  his  responsi- 
bilities— which  now  include  two  sons — 
have  failed  to  change  the  basically  ir- 
repressible little-boy  core  of  Hoagy. 
Life  at  the  Carmichaels'  house  in  the 
swankiest  section  of  Beverly  Hills 
carries  over  a  good  many  of  the  easy- 
going aspects  of  life  in  the  Book  Nook 
back  in  good  old  Indiana. 

The  intercommunication  phone  rings 
in  the  "big  house,"  and  Ada  Dockery, 
the  Carmichaels'  cheerful  English 
housekeeper,  crosses  the  room  to  an- 
swer it.  The  voice  of  Hoagy  Bix  (for 
the  one  and  only  Bix  Beiderbecke, 
Hoagy's  early  friend  and  mentor),  who 


See  lustrous,  natural  £fsr££/@n7$  in  your  hair 


nobasoap-a  smooth 
LIQUID  GRJEMZ 


IN  bygone  days,  lovely  women 
used  egg  with  shampoo.  Now, 
again,  the  lowly  egg — just  the  right 
amount,  in  powdered  form — helps 
make  Richard  Hudnut  Shampoo 
soothing,  caressing,  kind  to  your 
hair!  But  the  egg  is  in  a  luxurious 
liquid  creme  .  .  .  that  helps  reveal 
extra  glory,  extra  "love-lights."  Try 
this  new  kind  of  shampoo  .  .  . 
created  for  patrons  of  Hudnut's 
Fifth  Avenue  Salon  .  .  .  and  for  you! 

A  New  Kind  of  Hair  Beauty  from 
a  World-Famous  Cosmetic  Home 


Not  a  dulling,  dry- 
ing soap.  Contains 
no  wax  or  paste. 
Richard  Hudnut 
Shampoo  is  a 
sm-o-o-o-th  liquid 
creme.  Beauty- 
bathes  hair  to 
"love-lighted"  per- 
fection. Rinses  out 
quickly,  leaving  hair 
easy  to  manage, 
free  of  loose 
dandruff.  At  drug  and 
depaHment  stores. 


85 


Richard  Hudnut  Home  Permanent 


^T? 


<u^p 


This  New  Home  Wave  Keeps  Your  New  Short  Haircut  Salon-Sleek! 


Give  your  smart  new  short  coiffure 
just  enough  wave  for  body... just 
enough  curl  on  the  ends  to  keep  it  a 
sleek,  close  cap... with  the  new,  im- 
proved RICHARD  HUDNUT  HOME  PER- 
MANENT. Right  at  home... as  easily 
as  you  put  your  hair  up  in  curlers 
...you  can  give  yourself  this  soft, 
salon-type  permanent.  You  use  the 
same  type  of  preparations  and  the 
same  improved  cold  wave  process 
used  in  the  Richard  Hudnut  Fifth 


Avenue  Salon  for  expensive  perma- 
nents.  Save  money  and  tedious  hours 
at  the  hairdresser. ..try  this  glorious 
home  wave  today!  Price  $2.75;  refill 
without  rods,  $1.50  (all  prices  plus 
304  Federal  Tax).. 

,♦    M     Saves  up  to  one-half 
%**  usual  waving  time. 

^?     One-third  more  waving 
,•*  lotion...  more  penetrating, 

,♦*  but  gentle  on  hairl 

,  ,••  ^     Longer,  stronger  end-papers 

make  hair  tips  easier  to  handle. 


86 


Double-strength  neutralizer 
anchors  wave  faster,  makes 
curl  stronger  for  longer. 

Improved  technique  gives 
deep,  soft  crown  wave... 
non-frizzy  ends. 


'#    •#   Two  lengths  of  rods.  Standard 
w       size  for  ringlet  ends;  extra- 
•  -  long  for  deep  crown  waves. 


is  nine  and  the  older  of  the  Carmich- 
aels'  two  sons,  roars  distinctly  into  the 
room. 

"Is  Sawdust  home  yet?" 

"No  reverence,"  drawls  Sawdust 
himself,  ambling  to  the  telephone. 
"What's  up,  man?"  he  says  into  the 
receiver. 

The  boys  can  spare  their  father  some 
time,  it  turns  out,  if  he  can  shake  the 
visitors  and  come  on  down  to  their 
house.  They  thought  maybe  a  little 
tether  ball  .  .  . 

"Can't  Skeeter  take  it?" 

Skeeter  is  Seaton  Grant,  the  ex-pro 
baseball  player  and  current  physical 
education  major  at  U.C.L.A.  whom  the 
Carmichaels  have  engaged  to  live  with 
the  small  fry  and  rub  off  the  top  layer 
of  their  energy.  Unrubbed,  they're  too 
much  for  Hoagy.  Under  Skeeter's 
tutelage  they've  become  such  expert 
swimmers,  tennis  players,  tether  ball 
players  and  all-round  muscle  men  that 
Hoagy  is  thinking  of  hiring  a  physical 
trainer  of  his  own  to  get  even. 

"I'll  be  down,"  Hoagy  promises. 

"Down"  is  across  the  garden,  past  the 
swimming  pool  to  the  little  bungalow 
which  originally  was  the  guest  house 
at  the  lavish  hilltop  estate  which  the 
Carmichaels  bought  six  years  ago.  Now 
a  small  boys'  idea  of  heaven,  the  cot- 
tage houses  Hoagy  Bix,  Randy  Bob  (for 
Randolph  Scott  and  Bob  Montgomery) , 
who  is  seven,  Skeeter  and  assorted 
athletic  equipment. 

WHEN  the  boys  are  feeling  particu- 
larly affable — or  when,  like  today, 
Skeeter  is  otherwise  engaged — Hoagy 
is  invited  down  for  a  work-out. 

Invitations  to  the  grown-ups  to  visit 
Small  Fry  house  are  much  harder  come 
by  than  bids  in  the  other  direction. 
Hoagy  Bix  and  Randy  mingle  at  their 
convenience  with  the  parade  of  visitors 
who  come  and  go  from  the  big  house — 
no  rules  in  this  family  about  childrens' 
visiting  hours — but  when  their  parents 
are  invited  to  the  cottage  it  is  usually 
a  special  occasion. 

"On  my  birthday,"  their  father  re- 
ports gratefully,  "they  let  me  take 
them  to  the  circus." 

The  life-with-father  theme  is  played 
out  in  reverse  at  the  Carmichaels,  al- 
though at  the  big  house  itself  it  must 
be  said  that  signs  are  more  frequent 
that  the  master  is  a  fellow  of  some 
consequence. 

In  Hoagy's  study  and  workroom,  his 
desk  is  waiting  for  him,  a  model  of 
orderliness — mail  here,  papers  here, 
checks  here.  Perhaps  next  week  he 
will  get  around  to  looking  them  over. 
This  top  letter — what's  this? — oh,  just 
an  offer. 

"Anybody  ever  hear  of  the  Golden 
night  club  in  Cleveland?" 

Better  ask  his  agent,  Hoagy  decides, 
and  forgets  it. 

He  gravitates  to  the  work  piano.  It's 
a  studio  upright,  unimpressive  piece  of 
machinery  to  have  turned  out  so  many 
hits.  "I  have  a  concert  grand  in  the 
living  room,"  Hoagy  explains,  "but 
that's  for  fun." 

He  runs  through  the  first  bars  of  the 
song  he's  working  on  now: 

"I'm  from  Dallas,  Texas" 

(It's   sung   with   emphasis   on   the 
Southern  accent) 

"But  you  cayn't  tell 

Cause  I  don't  talk  that  way-ee" 

At  this  point  Hoagy  breaks  himself 
up  laughing. 

This  one  probably  won't  land  in  the 
leather  bound  volume  entitled  in  gold 
leaf  "Non-Commercial."  This  book 
which  Ruth  Carmichael  had  made  up 


for  Hoagy  is  a  collection  of  his  tunes 
which  did  not  make  the  Hit  Parade. 
"Some  of  my  favorites,  too,"  Hoagy 
says  of  them,  ruefully. 

The  phone  rings — the  outside  phone 
this  time,  and  Hoagy  grabs  for  it. 
Someone  wants  him  to  go  on  the  radio, 
not  his  regular  Saturday  night  CBS 
session  this  time,  but  an  ad  lib  go  on 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls. 

Hoagy  shies  away  frantically.  "I'm 
not  bright  enough  for  that  sort  of 
thing,"  he  says,  meaning  it,  "not  funny 
enough.  I  don't  think  fast  enough  on 
my  feet."  He  listens  for  a  minute,  but 
he  isn't  moved.  "No,  look,"  he  says, 
at  last.  "I  can't  do  it.  I  have  an  irri- 
tating voice  .  .  ." 

Everyone  in  the  room,  aware  that 
Hoagy's  "irritating"  voice  has  made 
him  a  fortune,  gets  a  big  laugh  at  this. 

But  he  couldn't  be  more  serious. 

"You  have  to  have  something  special 
— a  sense  of  humor  or  something,"  he 
says  after  hanging  up,  "to  get  away 
with  that." 

At  this  point,  he  thinks  it's  time  for 
"Mrs.  C."  to  show  us  around  the  house. 

Ruthie  Carmichael  has  never  hung 
out  a  shingle  as  an  interior  decorator, 
but  she  could.  She  really  has  worked 
something  of  a  miracle  with  "Stardust 
House." 

Built  in  a  sprawling  U  around  a 
beautiful  swimming  pool,  looking  out 
across  a  vista  of  terraced  gardens,  the 
house  could  very  easily  have  been  for- 
midable. But  with  a  sagacious  blend- 
ing of  modern  comfort  (in  the  uphol- 
stered pieces)  and  style  (in  the  fine 
English  antiques)  and  with  a  bold  hand 
with  colored  fabrics,  Mrs.  Carmichael 
has  achieved  an  effect  which  is  casual 
and  informal. 

The  large  blue  and  rose  living  room 
is  so  inviting  that  you  have  to  look 
twice  to  realize  that  it  is  also  ap- 
propriately (for  the  Indiana  boy  who 
made  good)  expensive.  The  series  of 
Dresden  figurines  of  the  composers 
which  are  arranged  along  the  mantel- 
piece and  the  impressive  collection  of 
white  ironstone  are — to  use  a  Holly- 
wood colloquialism — "thrown  away." 
You  are  much  more  apt  to  notice  the 
McClelland  Barclay  portrait  in  oils  of 
Ruth's  handsome  sister,  Helen,  or  the 
kids'  new  television  outfit  set  up,  for 
want  of  a  better  place,  on  a  rare  old 
English  table. 

HOMEY  touches  supplied  by  Hoagy's 
mother,  Mrs.  Lyda  Carmichael,  are 
here,  as  everywhere  in  the  house,  im- 
portantly in  evidence.  The  old  Indiana 
rocker,  with  its  needlepoint  cushion, 
the  needlepoint  cover  on  Hoagy's  piano 
chair — brown  on  beige  showing  the 
opening  bars  of  "Stardust" — are  Grand- 
ma's contributions.  The  elder  Mrs. 
Carmichael  embroidered  the  entire 
score  of  "Stardust"  on  Hoagy's  bed- 
spread, a  resplendent  touch  in  an  other- 
wise severely  tailored  room.  Ruthie's 
bedroom,  contrarily,  is  frilly  and  fem- 
inine with  a  huge  white-canopied  four- 
poster,  eyelet  cotton  drawn  back  with 
black  velvet  at  the  windows,  and  a  col- 
lection of  old  family  photographs  in 
silver  frames  on  the  wall. 

Except  for-  the  children,  there  are  no 
contemporary  family  photos  about.  In 
the  living  room  McClelland  Barclay's 
— he's  an  old  friend — line  drawings  of 
Hoagy  and  Ruth  are  prominently  dis- 
played, along  with  some  good  modern 
watercolors.  One,  a  snow  scene,  is  an 
original  by  Johnny  Mercer.  Another,  a 
seascape,  characteristically  unsigned,  is 
the  work  of  the  Hoagy  Carmichael,  a 
Sunday  painter  himself  of  enthusiasm 
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"Of  course  I'm  a  better  barber,"  he 
says,  "or  was,  before  Ruth  sold  my 
barber  chair." 

There  just  wasn't  room  for  it,  Mrs. 
Carmichael  insists.  Besides,  Hoagy 
took  to  cutting  hair  at  parties  instead 
of  using  the  piano  bench.  And  it  wasn't 
half  as  much  fun. 

"It  was  for  me,"  Hoagy  laments. 

Hoagy  just  stumbled  into  his  talent 
for  barbering — like  his  talent  for  paint- 
ing, or  singing  or  composing. 

He  points  out  that  he  studied  law  at 
the  University  of  Indiana,  under  Paul 
McNutt,  adding  dryly,  "that's  probably 
where  I  learned  to  be  an  actor." 

This  is  not  quite  true.  Hoagy  did 
some  acting  at  Indiana;  played  the  part 
of  a  monkey,  in  false  nose  and  long 
underwear  complete  with  tail,  in  the 
senior  class  play.  But  the  real  chance 
came  when  his  friend,  Slim  Hawks, 
came  by  the  house  one  day  and  found 
him  in  faded  blue  jeans  and  several 
layers  of  dirt  pruning  the  roses. 

"What  a  character,"  she  muttered  to 
herself,  making  a  mental  note  to  tell 
her  husband,  Director  Howard  Hawks, 
that  she  had  found  a  movie  natural. 
Hoagy's  hit  part  in  "To  Have  and  Have 
Not"  resulted,  and  a  whole  new  phase 
of  his  career. 

Hoagy  loves  puttering  in  his  garden, 
and  not,  he  insists,  just  because  he  was 
"discovered"  there.  He  worries  about 
the  woolly  aphis  along  with  the  rest  of 
Beverly  Hills  garden  lovers  and  claims 
that  despite  its  blight  his  roses  are  the 
biggest  and  the  best  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. The  wisteria  vine  trained  over 
a  latticework  arch  —  monument  to 
Hoagy's  nostalgia  for  springtime  in  In- 
diana— is  his  real  pride,  and  he  is 
furious  that  it  has  bloomed  and  faded 
for  three  seasons  now  without  his  hav- 
ing recorded  its  lavender  and  green 
wonder  on  color  film.  Next  year,  he 
swears,  he  will  go  on  strike  at  wisteria 
season. 

Hoagy's  gardening  proceeds  without 
handicap  now  that  Rags  is  no  longer 
around.  Rags,  a  "dirty  white"  dog, 
half  poodle  and  half  Yorkshire  terrier, 
used  to  tear  up  planting  beds  as  fast  as 
Hoagy  could  plant  them. 

She  disappeared  one  day.  The  fam- 
ily didn't  worry  for  forty-eight  hours — 
Rags  had  customarily  taken  an  occa- 
sional two-day  sabbatical — but  when 
three  days  went  by  and  she  didn't  show 
up,  the  boys  and  Hoagy  were  frantic. 

Hoagy  put  an  ad  in  the  Beverly  Hills 
paper:  "Dog,  sort  of  white;  brown  tail 
and  ears;  tick  scar  under  left  eye." 
But  no  luck.  No  Rags.  Hoagy  finds  it 
satisfying  to  think  that  whoever  kid- 


napped the  puppy  is  having  a  terrible 
time  keeping  his  pansies  planted. 

Hoagy  is  so  fond  of  his  garden  that 
Ruth  surprised  him  on  his  last  birthday 
by  giving  him  a  party  there. 

"Really  went  Hollywood,"  Hoagy  re- 
calls, still  pleased  at  the  whole  idea. 
"Big  tent,  orchestra,  catering  by  Ro- 
manoff's— the  works." 

The  Carmichaels  seldom  entertain  so 
lavishly.  They  say  they  don't  enter- 
tain at  all,  but  actually  they  never  stop 
entertaining.  Even  Hoagy's  working 
hours  are  entertainment — he  loves  his 
work,  and  so  do  the  lucky  auditors. 

There  are  always  people  around — 
sitting  at  umbrella-shaded  tables 
around  the  pool,  hiding  from  the  sun 
in  the  plant-filled  lanai,  or  perched  on 
the  handsome  ebony-inlaid  English 
bank  tellers'  chairs  at  the  brown  and 
white  gingham-lined  bar. 
.  "It's  a  party,"  Hoagy  says,  sticking 
his  head  out  of  his  workroom. 

It's  always  a  party,  if  Hoagy  is  at 
home — even  he  can't  be  sure  when  the 
work  ends  and  the  fun  begins.  Supper 
for  six — or  even  ten  or  twelve — is  no 
trouble  for  Ada,  and  the  big  table  in 
the  dining  room  is  ready  without  so 
much  as  an  extra  leaf. 

Their  friends — the  inner  circle,  at 
least — are  the  same  year  after  year. 
The  Hawkses,  the  Bob  Montgomerys, 
the  Lee  Bowmans,  the  Alexander  Halls, 
the  Victor  Flemings.  They  know  they 
don't  have  to  telephone — the  latch  is 
always  out. 

The  guest  room  nearly  always  is  oc- 
cupied too,  by  Hoagy's  mother,  or  one 
of  his  sisters,  or  Ruth's  sister  on  one  of 
her  frequent  treks  from  her  home-  in 
Maine.  "Always  a  bulge  in  the  house, 
seems  like,"  Hoagy  says. 

Wherever  "Sawdust"  is  at  home, 
people  hang  around.  And  why  not? 
Isn't  it  a  party? 

It's  a  party  when  Hoagy's  on  the  air. 
William  Paley,  big  boss  at  CBS,  has 
decided  that  it  should  be  a  thirty  min- 
ute instead  of  a  fifteen  minute  party, 
and  Hoagy  has  cut  audition  records  of 
that  length  for  all  consideration. 

It's  a  party  on  any  movie  set  where 
Hoagy  works.  Ethel  Barrymore  her- 
self, who  "adored"  working  with  Hoagy 
in  "Night  Song,"  is  only  one  of  the 
authorities  for  that.  And  as  for  his 
real  love — the  song-writing  business 
— the  party  is  apt  to  go  on  for  a  long, 
long  time. 

Hoagy  has  a  hatful  of  new  tunes — 
"Sad  Cowboy"  probably  will  hit  first. 

Hoagy  is  more  than  versatile,  it  is 
apparent  after  a  good  long  look.  He  is 
inexhaustible. 


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they  speak  for  many  thousands  of  women. 
For  here  are  many  kinds  of  real  people!  A 
complete  story  every  day  Monday  through 
Friday  prepared  in  co-operation  with  the 
editors  of  TRUE  STORY  magazine.  One  day 
you  may  "visit"  an  Arizona  ranch  .  .  .  New 
York  the  next  day  ...  a  village  the  next. 
You  "meet"  the  very  rich  and  the  poor  .  •  . 
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yourself! 


'**e«*  "MY  TRUE  STORY 


AMERICAN  BROADCASTING  STATIONS 


Remembering 
Tom  Breneman 

(Continued  from  page  29) 

on  my  own  Take  It  or  Leave  It.  I  had 
just  heard  from  Ralph  Edwards  of 
Truth  or  Consequences  that  he  would 
take  over  for  me — when  the  telephone 
rang.    It  was  Tom. 

"Say,  Garry,"  he  said.  "I  hear  you 
need  somebody  to  pinchhit  on  your 
program.  If  I  can  help,  I  don't  need  to 
go  on  this  trip  right  away.  Billie  and 
I  could  leave  later  just  as  well." 

That  was  Tom.  The  ultimate  sad 
event  a  few  weeks  later  proved  how 
desperately  he  did  need  that  rest,  but 
there  he  was,  offering  to  postpone  his 
vacation  to  "help  out"  somebody  else. 

When  I  recovered,  I  went  to  my  home 
town,  Baltimore,  to  visit  my  parents.  It 
was  there  that  I  heard  the  shocking 
news  of  Tom's  sudden  passing.  With 
millions  of  others,  I  said  "No!  It  can't 
be!"  when  I  heard  the  message  on  the 
air.  Later,  trying  to  tell  my  folks  about 
Tom,  I  paid  him  what  is  probably  one 
performer's  most  sincere  tribute  to  an- 
other: "Gee,  I'd  hate  to  be  the  guy  who 
has  to  try  to  fill  his  shoes!" 

IRONICALLY,  three  days  later  .in  New 
York  I  received  a  call  from  the  spon- 
sors of  Breakfast  in  Hollywood.  They 
asked  me  to  step  into  Tom's  program. 
You  can  imagine  my  feelings.  I  tried 
to  put  them  into  words  in  a  pre-broad- 
cast  talk  just  before  facing  the  studio 
audience  that  first  time. 

What  I  said  then  still  goes:  "I  know 
that  I  cannot  fill  the  shoes  of  Tom 
Breneman  for  he  was  a  man  of  unique 
mold.  ...  I  cannot  promise  you  that  I 
will  be  good  at  the  job.  Nobody  knows 
that,  least  of  all  myself.  But  I  can 
promise  you  that  I  will  try  to  bring  to 
the  job  the  things  that  Tom  treasured 
most  highly — friendliness  and  love  of 
his  fellow  man.  .  .  .  The  wheel  of  life 
continues  to  revolve.     There  is  no  way 

of  turning  it  back The  crowd  is 

waiting  in  the  next  studio.  So  let's  go 
in  there  together  and  hope  that  this  is 
the  beginning  of  a  good  friendship." 

And  I  think  that,  from  that  moment 
on,  I  began  really  to  know  Tom  Brene- 
man. For  some  of  the  kindliness  that 
he  had  dispensed  through  his  work 
while  he  lived — dispensed  to  you — be- 
gan to  fall  around  me  like  a  warm 
bright  light,  reflected  back  from  you. 
Your  letters,  expressing  your  grief  and 
yet  wishing  me  well,  showed  that  you 
shared  Tom's  spirit  of  friendship. 

Through  you  and  your  letters,  then, 
I  began  really  to  know  Tom.  And  in 
another  wonderful  way  I  came  to  know 
him.  This  was  through  working  with 
the  fine  people  who  had  worked  with 
him,  through  hearing  their  tales  of 
Tom  as  they  saw  him.  Tales  of  the 
man,  the  human  being. 

In  these  tales,  not  at  all  strangely,  the 
accent  is  usually  on  laughter — as  it  was 
with  Tom.  Laughter  was  one  of  his 
great  gifts.  Once  you  heard  it,  could 
you  ever  forget  that  laugh  of  his?  That 
deep-down,  mellow,  infectious  and  ir- 
resistible geyser  of  mirth  that  fairly 
shook  the  air? 

You  must  have  noticed  the  frequency 
with  which  Tom  turned  that  laughter 
on  himself.  On  the  air,  of  course,  that 
could  be  regarded  as  merely  good 
showmanship.  Every  professional  funny 
man  knows  that  to  be  on  the  receiving 
end  of  a  gag  puts  him  in  a  good  light, 
while  dishing  it  out  can  make  him  ap- 
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89 


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man,  Tom  doted  on  every  one  of  those 
famous  "insulting"  introductions  by 
John  Nelson.  You  remember  how  they 
went:  ".  .  .  to  all  you  ladies  who  want 
the  latest  dope,  here  he  is — Tom  Brene- 
man!"  .  .  .  "In  this  day  (of  airplanes) 
we  forget  in  what  kind  of  thing  man 
first  flew  through  the  air.  It  was  in  a 
balloon.  A  big  bag  filled  with  hot  air, 
which  reminds  me  that  here's — Tom 
Breneman!"  Cracks  like  that,  every 
day.  And  the  loudest,  most  appreci- 
ative roar  you  heard  was  always  Tom's. 
He  loved  it. 

But  he  was  that  way  off  the  air,  too, 
when  no  showmanship  was  involved. 
His  favorite  stories  (as  the  gang  retells 
them)  were  always  those  in  which  Tom 
himself  was  the  butt  of  the  gag,  caught 
without  a  comeback,  stumped. 

IN  A  SHOW  like  his— all  ad  lib,  just 
1  "gabbing  with  the  gals,"  as  he  termed 
it — anything  could  happen.  Roaming 
among  the  guests  with  his  traveling 
mike,  asking  folksy  questions,  spoofing 
the  ladies'  zany  hats,  no  matter  what 
he  did,  Tom  was  the  old  master  of  the 
quick  retort.  But  he  always  liked  to 
relate,  not  the  many  times  he  wowed 
them  with  a  fast  one,  but  the  rare  oc- 
casions he  himself  was  left  speechless. 

The  time,  for  instance,  he  asked  a 
young  housewife  how  many  children 
she  had.  "One — and  one  on  the  way," 
was  the  answer,  at  which  Tom  beat  a 
quick  retreat  to  another  table.  She 
called  after  him,  in  a  voice  that  car- 
ried over  the  nation,  "Don't  be  afraid — 
it's  not  catching!" 

And  the  time,  quizzing  a  sweet  old 
lady,  he  asked  a  certain  question  and 
then  quickly  corrected  himself:  "Oh,  I 
shouldn't  have  asked  that — I  make  it  a 
point  never  to  get  personal  on  this  pro- 
gram." She  fairly  bowled  him  over  (he 
admitted  it  later)  when  she  snapped: 
"I  know  differently.  I  listen  to  you 
often  and  most  of  the  time  you're  pretty 
nosey!" 

And  there  was  another  sweetheart, 
all  of  eighty-seven,  who  missed  out  on 
the  "oldest  guest"  orchid  by  only  a  few 
months.  "Shucks,  Tom,"  she  said,  "I 
didn't  mind  not  getting  the  orchid,  but 
I  came  here  for  your  kiss.  That's  what 
I'm  sore  about!" 

Tom,  in  his  most  chivalrous  manner, 
planted  his  second  kiss  of  the  day  on 
her  cheek. 

"My,"  she  sighed,  but  her  eyes 
twinkled  mischievously.  "Why  didn't 
I  meet  you  when  I  was  a  girl?  Betcha 
we'd  have  had  a  lot  o'  fun!" 

I  like  the  story  of  the  beginnings  and 
early  struggles  of  Breakfast  in  Holly- 
wood. Its  beginnings,  indirectly,  can 
be  traced  to  Tom's  constant  interest  in 
brightening  the  surrounding  atmo- 
sphere— in  making  people  happier.  In 
the  program's  birth  struggles  there  was 
Tom,  with  his  associates,  putting  up  a 
good  fight  for  a  thing  he  believed  in. 
And  Tom,  throughout  his  life,  was  a 
fighter. 

The  seed  of  Breakfast  in  Hollywood 
was  planted  the  day  Tom  and  his  old 
friend  Chet  Mittendorf  sat  over  coffee 
at  a  little  lunch  counter.  A  radio  was 
giving  with  a  sad,  sad  drama.  The 
waitress  snapped  it  off,  with  an  acid 
comment  about  the  morning's  pro- 
grams: "You'd  think  it  was  against  the 
law  to  laugh  before  noon!  News, 
records,  or  tragedy — morning,  after 
morning!" 

Tom  and  Chet  chuckled,  and  allowed 
the  truth  of  the  charge. 

"Must  be  plenty  of  people  who  feel 
the  same  way,"  ventured  Tom.  "I  bet 
almost  anybody  could  ad  lib  a  show 
more  cheerful  than  most  of  these  morn- 


ing broadcasts." 

Chet  recalled  this  a  few  days  later 
when  he  sat  in  Sardi's  restaurant  on 
Hollywood  Boulevard,  along  with  Ray- 
mond R.  Morgan,  head  of  the  radio- 
advertising  agency,  and  Dave  Covey, 
the  restaurant's  owner.  It  seems  they 
were  discussing  the  sad  state  of  busi- 
ness. Sardi's  wasn't  doing  well.  Chet, 
who  was  then  selling  radio  time  to 
sponsors,  had  his  troubles  too.  Ray 
Morgan  suggested  cheerfully  that  they 
should  join  worries. 

"Just  figure  out  a  radio  show  that  will 
help  the  restaurant  business,"  he  said. 
"That  would  solve  both  your  problems." 

Chet  remembered  that  snapped-off 
radio — and  Tom  Breneman's  comment. 
He  told  about  it.  Ray  Morgan,  lis- 
tening, began  to  envision  something. 
Dave's  restaurant  could  be  their  studio, 
Chet  could  line  up  sponsors,  Tom 
Breneman  could  be  M.  C,  ad  libbing 
over  ham  and  eggs.    Why  not? 

They  found  plenty  of  answers  to  that 
question  before  Breakfast  at  Sardi's 
finally  hit  the  air,  unsponsored,  over 
one  local  station,  KFWB,  on  January  13, 
1941.  Breakfast  in  Hollywood,  as  it 
was  later  called  when  Tom  moved  to 
his  own  restaurant  on  Vine  Street,  did 
not  spring  full-blown  into  hit  status.  It 
wobbled  along  for  weeks  and  months, 
just  another  "crazy  idea." 

Women,  skeptical  of  the  notion  of  at- 
tending a  mere  radio  program  at  7 
A.M.,  had  to  be  cajoled  by  free  taxicab 
rides,  free  breakiasts,  guts  oi  Deputy 
wares  and  flowers.  As  they  became 
converts,  and  then  enthusiastic  patrons, 
sponsors  still  rejected  the  show  with 
discouraging  regularity.  "Nobody," 
remarked  Tom  wryly,  "seems  to  like  us 
but  the  listeners!"  And  he  kept  on 
plugging,  hoping,  working.  It  took  nine 
months  for  "Breakfast"  to  leave  local 
rating  to  be  heard  up  and  down  the 
Pacific  Coast.  Less  than  a  year  after 
that,  ABC  was  sending  it  coast  to  coast, 
now  with  two  major  sponsors.  Tom 
with  his  "crazy  idea"  of  a  show,  had 
really  arrived. 

EVEN  after  that,  there  were  diehards 
who  admitted  the  success  but  mar- 
veled at  it.  What  was  funny,  they  de- 
manded, about  a  guy  trying  on  ladies' 
hats — when  the  vast  radio  audience 
couldn't  see  it  even  if  it  were  funny? 
The  experts  were  stumped  by  that  one, 
but  the  fans  continued  to  howl  with 
glee  just  the  same.  Maybe  it  was  like  it 
was  with  that  fellow  Bergen  who 
wanted  to  air  an  act  with  a  wooden 
dummy  named  McCarthy — whom  dial- 
ers couldn't  "see"  either. 

Well,  you  can't  hear  all  the  tales 
about  Tom  without  realizing  that  he 
deserved  everything  he  won:  the  fame, 
the  fortune,  the  devotion  of  millions  of 
human  beings.  Building  up  to  these, 
he  had  had  thirty  years  of  hard  school- 
ing in  show  business.  And  I'm  sure 
he  must  have  spent  his  whole  allotted 
forty-seven  years  in  the  school  of  the 
human  heart. 

That's  why,  along  with  laughter,  his 
program  so  often  glowed  with  hushed 
moments,  tender  and  inspiring  in  their 
revelation  of  the  goodness,  the  hopes, 
the  courage  of  "ordinary,  everyday" 
people.  Through  Tom,  and  his  "most 
elderly  guests"  and  his  "Good,  Good 
Neighbors"  and  his  Wishing  Rings, 
America  knew  many  such  moments 
along  with  the  fun. 

Who  could  ever  forget  the  little 
crippled  girl  who  wanted  "just  once  to 
walk  like  other  kids?"  Or  the  boot- 
black who,  from  his  own  earnings,  sent 
weekly  cartons  of  cigarettes  to  service- 
men overseas  during  the  war?     Or  the 


women  who,  in  their  own  communities, 
set  shining  examples  of  helpful  service? 
Or  the  woman  who  wished  that  "all 
the  lonesome  little  puppies  and  all  the 
lonesome  little  boys"  could  be  given  to 
each  other? 

Building  the  unique  niche  he  ulti- 
mately won,  Tom  had  kicked  around 
vaudeville  and  radio  for  years.  He  be- 
gan in  radio  back  in  the  twenties,  when 
it  was  still  a  strident  and  disorganized 
infant  of  the  show  world.  It  was  be- 
fore the  era  of  vast  networks,  and  a 
sponsor  on  one  station  was  an  actor's 
delight.  Tom  knew  good  times — as 
singer,  comedian,  M.  C,  studio  execu- 
tive— and  he  knew  bad.  He  survived 
that  near-fatal  freak  accident — the  iron 
curtain  rod  which  fell  and  struck  him 
down  at  his  desk — which  nearly  cost 
him  the  permanent  use  of  his  normal 
voice.  There  was  one  week,  in  the 
period  after  a  seeming  miracle  restored 
his  speech,  that  Tom  for  all  his  talents 
could  find  only  two  roles — a  "newsboy 
calling  in  the  distance"  and  "a  wailing 
banshee." 

All  the  large  troubles  and  the  vary- 
ing triumphs,  shared  by  his  devoted 
wife  and  later  by  their  children,  went 
into  the  making  of  his  eventual  great 
success.  (Mrs.  Breneman  and  the  chil- 
dren plan  to  do,  now  that  Tom  is  gone, 
exactly  what  he  would  have  most  liked 
them  to  do — continue  their  lives  as 
nearly  as  possible  as  if  he  were  still 
with  them.  Mrs.  Breneman  will  still  be 
an  Encino  housewife;  Gloria  is  to  con- 
tinue her  studies  in  music,  and  Tom,  Jr., 
will,  of  course,  finish  school.) 

Many  people,  including  at  least  one 
famed  psychiatrist,  have  tried  to  ex- 
plain Tom's  success.  What  did  he  "do"? 
What  "tricks"  did  he  use?  One  of  his 
pals,  after  a  nostalgic  session  with  a 
few  of  Tom's  transcriptions,  gave  a£ 
good  an  answer  as  any:  "Tom  didn't  'do' 
anything — and  he  did  it  beautifully. 
He  hadn't  any  'tricks,'  he  hadn't  any 
script,  and  he  hadn't  any  set  pieces  of 
business.  What  did  it  was  his  person- 
ality— the  man  himself.  The  way  he 
treated  people,  the  sympathy  and 
warmth  he  felt — and  showed." 

I'll  go  along  with  that.  Tom  was  a 
great  showman,  but  showmanship  was 
only  a  small  part  of  it.  It  was  show- 
manship plus  his  ability  to  project  him- 
self over  the  air. 

And  what  Tom  had  to  project  was 
something  rare  indeed — Tom  Breneman. 


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"The  Love  We  Found" 

(Continued  from  page  47) 

thoughts,  off  the  air,  as  on,  by  inviting 
me  to  go  to  the  symphony  with  him. 
Later,  George  was  to  explain  to  me 
why,  feeling  as  he  swears  he  did  about 
me,  he  was  so  slow.  He  was,  he  said, 
"very  involved."  He  was  still  an  officer 
in  the  Army.  He  was  still  working  for 
the  Army  by  day  and,  also,  by  night. 
He  was  able  to  do  the  Rosemary  show 
only  by  courtesy  of  his  commanding 
officer  who  gave  him  a  couple  of  hours 
leave  of  absence  each  day.  He  was 
trying  to  get  back  in  the  theater.  He 
was  trying  to  find  an  apartment.  "And," 
he  concluded  his  defense  of  himself  as 
a  laggard  in  love,  "you  were  a  very 
popular  girl — men  calling  for  you  at 
the  studio  and  all  that.  I  was  too  in- 
volved to  get  in  there  and  cope.  And," 
he  added,  "too  scared." 

GEORGE  had  been  in  love  before.  He'd 
come  out  of  it,  with  scars. 

We  went  to  the  symphony  jnd 
George  held  my  hand  and  it  was  nice. 
Even  nicer  was  the  fact  that  George 
revealed  to  me  a  side  of  himself  I'd 
had  no  opportunity  to  know  in  the 
studio  .  .  .  his  knowledge  of  music,  for 
one  thing,  which  is  good,  is  fine.  His 
appreciation,  both  warm  and  intellec- 
tual, of  all  the  Arts.  That  evening  I 
realized,  for  the  first  time,  how  much 
we  have  in  common.    It  disturbed  me. 

I  had  no  desire  to  become  involved 
with  anyone.  I  had  been  in  love,  too 
(or  that's  what  I  called  it)  a  long  time 
ago  and  it  was  misery.  So  I,  too,  was 
afraid  of  love.  Very  afraid  of  getting 
^narried. 

So  here  we  were,  two  people  afraid 
of  love,  falling  in  love — and  if  that 
isn't  being  impaled  on  the  horns  of  a 
dilemma,  what  in  the  world  of  lovers 
and  their  problems,  is  it? 

I  attempted  to  escape  by  telling  my- 
self flatly  that  what  I  felt  for  George 
Keane  was  nothing  more  than  the 
friendly  affection  natural  between  two 
young  people  who  work  together  every 
day,  Monday  through  Friday.  I  told 
myself,  "We  act  well  together — 'Simply 
that  and  nothing  more.'  " 

Nothing  more? 

Then  why  when,  shortly  after  our 
evening  at  the  symphony,  George  went 
to  Fort  Dix  to  get  his  discharge  from 
the  Army  and  there  was  a  chance  he 
might  have  to  stay  there  several 
weeks;  might,  as  a  consequence,  lose 
his  job  on  the  Rosemary  show — why 
did  I  feel  so  violently  that  he  must  not 
lose  the  job?  Why  was  I  so  embattled, 
so  up  in  arms  at  the  mere  mention  of 
another  Bill? 

I  knew  why. 

Shortly  after  George  got  back  from 
Dix — this  was  in  April  of  1945 — what 
he  describes  as  "A  great  event  in  our 
lives"  befell  us:  George  got  a  car.  In 
the  car,  taking  long  drives,  going  for 
week-end  visits  with  friends  in  the 
country,  this  was  how  we  really  got  to 
know  each  other;  got  to  know  how 
curiously  one  we  are,  in  our  interests, 
in  our  reactions,  our  senses  of  humor; 
in  what  we  like  and  what  we  like  to 
do.  .  .  .  The  sun,  for  instance,  we  both 
love  the  sun,  love  the  beach,  the  sea. 
We  found  out,  too,  how  extraordinary 
sensitive  we  are  to  each  other,  so  sensi- 
tive that  one  never  unknowingly  hurts 
or  insults  the  other  because  of  know- 
ing, as  we  do,  what  would  hurt,  in- 
sult. .  .  . 

In   the   car   we   used   often   to   drive 


down  for  week-ends  with  Elaine  Car- 
rington,  who  writes  our  Rosemary 
show  (and  how  many  others!)  at  her 
lovely  Bridgehampton,  Long  Island, 
home.  Elaine,  realizing  immediately, 
how  right  we  are  together,  how  close 
we  were — closer,  to  her  seeing  eye, 
than  even  we  really  tried,  we  suspect, 
to  push  our  relationship  along.  "Tried," 
my  foot!  After  the  very  first  week-end 
we  spent  with  her,  she  married  us  in 
the  script! 

In  real  life,  it  took  us  a  year  longer 
to  get  married.  A  year  in  love — there 
was  no  longer  any  shadow  of  a  doubt 
about  that — but  for  me,  at  least,  a  year 
in  fear,  too. 

Fear,  that,  as  I  look  back  on  it  now, 
has  about  as  much  substance  and  real- 
ity as  the  bogie-men  that  beset  neu- 
rotic children. 

I  had  never  "gone  with"  an  actor.  In 
my  home-town  of  Berwick,  Pa.,  and 
later  in  Akron,  Ohio,  I  grew  up  with  a 
prejudice  against  marrying  an  actor. 
I  was  afraid  of  marriage  to  anyone  but 
the  prescribed  "solid  older  business 
man."  Later,  I  was  afraid  of  marriage, 
period. 

But  solid  older  business  men  do  not, 
alas,  share  your  interests — not  if  you 
are  me,  they  don't!  They  do  not  share 
your  sense  of  humor,  your  flights  and 
fevers  and  fervors  whereas,  George  .  .  . 
George  is  an  actor,  yes,  George  is  an 
artist,  yes — but  George,  I  reminded 
myself,  is  very  interested  in  politics, 
as  well  as  in  plays  and  play-acting; 
is  interested  in  the  production  end  of 
the  theater,  in  music,  in  travel  and 
books  and  people  and  life.  George  has 
dimension — all  this  and  the  heaven  of 
the  fun  he  is,  too! 

JUST  as  these  reflections  were  build- 
ing props  for  my  courage  and  I  was 
close  to  capitulating,  came  a  crisis  in 
our  affairs:  George  got  a  job  on  the 
stage — his  part  in  the  musical  comedy 
"Park  Avenue"  whereupon,  except  for 
our  morning  broadcasts  and  our  Sun- 
days together,  we  practically  didn't 
meet. 

This  panicked  me.  What  kind  of  a 
marriage,  I  asked  myself,  newly  fear- 
ful, would  this  be?  Which  proved  to 
be  another  false  fear  because  George 
is  still  in  the  theater,  playing  the  com- 
edy lead  in  "Brigadoon"  and,  after 
eight  months,  what  a  wonderful  mar- 
riage ours  is! 

During  this  year-of-fear  George  pro- 
posed to  me  in,  he  insists,  every  ad- 
vantageous and  disadvantageous  spot  in, 
and  within  driving  distance  of  New 
York. 

According  to  his  story:  "I  first  pro- 
posed to  you  in  the  studio  at  CBS,  with 
the  lights  burning  brightly  and  an 
engineer,  smoking  a  big  black  cigar, 
the  smoke  curling  from  his  unlovely 
lips,  kibitzing.  I  kept  on  proposing  to 
you — in  the  movies,  on  Bridgehamp- 
ton Beach,  on  top  of  a  Fifth  Avenue 
bus,  at  the  Museum  of  Modern  Art,  in 
Grant's  Tomb,  in  Elaine  Carrington's 
garden,  also  in  Elaine's  kitchen,  in  the 
subway,  in  a  thunder  storm,  in  my 
mother's  presence,  in  your  mother's 
presence,  while  fixing  a  flat  tire  on  a 
country  road,  while  you  were  under 
the  dryer  in  a  beauty  parlor,  in  swim- 
ming, on  roller-skates.  And  you  kept 
on  saying  no." 

Incredible  as  it  seems  to  me  now,  so 
I  did. 

Then  suddenly,  one  day,  the  one  day 
he  didn't  ask  me,  I  said  "Yes." 

Immediately  I  said  it,  the  doubts, 
the  fears,  the  reservations  and  all  the 
vestiges  thereof  simply  dissolved,  like 


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the  vapors  they  were,  and  were  gone. 

We  still  had  our  problems,  of  course 
...  no  lovers'  quarrels,  we  didn't  have 
time  for  them — but  small  riles  and 
rifts  such  as,  for  instance,  when  I  called 
for  taxicabs.  George  has  a  great  aver- 
sion to  career  women  who  act  like 
career  women.  When  I  called  a  taxi, 
he  wouldn't  say  anything  but  when  the 
taxi  came,  he'd  say  "Why  don't  you 
open  the  door?" — and  I  would.  And 
he'd  get  in  first!  A  few  of  these  and 
I  learned  my  lessons  so  well  that  now 
I  occasionally  forget  to  open  the  door 
of  a  cab  when  I'm  alone! 

On  Thanksgiving  Day,  1945,  George 
kissed  me  in  a  taxicab.  In  January, 
1948,  we  got  married. 

It  was  the  most  exhausting  wedding! 

As  I  was  dressing  for  the  wedding, 
which  was  in  New  Jersey,  a  gala- 
spirited  neighbor  stopped  in  unexpect- 
edly and  threw  two  boxes  of  rice  all 
over  me  and  all  over  the  room  which 
made  it  impossible,  since  the  floors  are 
waxed,  to  keep  from  slipping  and  slid- 
ing with  every  step! 

GEORGE'S  sister  and  brother-in-law, 
driving  in  from  Long  Island  in  a  bliz- 
zard, arrived  with  hamburgers  in  hand, 
having  had  no  time  to  eat  on  the  road. 
Hamburgers  obviously  called  for  an 
accompaniment  of  hot  coffee  which, 
five  minutes  before  George  was  due  to 
arrive  for  me,  I  patiently  perked! 

My  sister-in-law-to-be  also  wanted 
to  borrow  a  hat  having,  she  suddenly 
wailed  aloud,  forgotten  hers! 

As  we  left  the  house,  my  maid  called 
out  the  window  that  I'd  forgotten  my 
purse  and  my  "Something  borrowed, 
something  blue  .  .  ." 

On  the  drive  to  Jersey,  we  got  stuck 
in  the  snow  and  George  and  his  brother 
literally  put  their  shoulders  to  the 
wheel  for  a  good  half  hour  before  we 
were  on  our  way  again! 

Having  left  the  telephone  number  of 
the  Judge  who  was  marrying  us  with 
the  Registry,  in  case  the  air-line  should 
call  us  about  our  reservations  for 
Havana,  two  calls  for  radio  jobs  came 
in  for  us  before  George  said  "I  do." 

Back  in  New  York,  in  our  apartment 
which,  during  our  absence  had  been 
transformed  (George's  orders)  into  a 
hothouse  of  the  white  flowers  I  love, 
we  had  a  champagne  supper — and  then 
my  bridegroom  left  to  report  back  to 
work. 

The  next  day,  the  honeymoon  .  .  . 

In  the  late  afternoon  of  the  day  the 
honeymoon  began,  George  had  a  lim- 
ousine from  American  Airlines  pick 
me  up  at  the  apartment.  On  the  way 
to  the  airport,  we  stopped  at  the 
theater  where  "Brigadoon"  is  plaving 
and  George,  in  full  make-up  (and  on 
a  week's  leave  of  absence  from  the 
show)  got  in.  Removing  his  make-up 
en  route  to  La  Guardia,  we  made  the 
plane  and  took  off  on  what  George 
calls  "The  highest  honeymoon  ever 
spent,"  for  Havana. 

When  we  came  down  in  Havana,  two 
photographers,  neither  of  whom  spoke 
English,  were  there  to  meet  us  and 
accompanied  us,  snapping  like  mad,  to 
the  La  Nacional  where  we  were  stav- 
ing. "Two  to  one,"  I  said  to  George, 
"they  have  no  idea  who  we  are."  A  bet 
I  collected  when,  the  next  day,  the 
pictures  came  out  in  the  papers,  cap- 
tioned "Mr.  and  Mrs.  Keena." 

Since  George  didn't  know  how  to 
rhumba,  and  neither  did  I,  and  both  of 
us  wanted  to  rhumba  in  Havana,  we 
went  down,  in  all  innocence,  to  take 
a  lesson  from  the  teacher  recom- 
mended by  the  hotel  as  teaching  the 


"original  Cuban  rhumba."  Teaching 
the  "original  Cuban  rhumba"  was  this 
New  Yorker — and  at  twenty  dollars 
the  lesson!  George,  once  in  a  while, 
protests  that  he  can  never  remember 
the  steps;  I  merely  say  to  George 
"Twenty  dollars" — and  George  re- 
members the  steps! 

But  it's  a  dreamy  place  to  honey- 
moon, Havana.  .  .  .  We  swam  a  lot,  in 
the  La  Nacional's  beautiful,  beautiful 
pool.  We  danced  the  rhumba — the 
"original  Cuban  rhumba,"  yes,  siree, 
at  Havana's  fabulous  night-clubs.  We 
wandered  around  the  streets,  watch- 
ing the  people  as,  wherever  we  are,  we 
like  to  do.  We  were  in  love,  in  Havana; 
we  were  honeymooning,  in  Havana  .  .  . 

.  .  .  doesn't  Havana  mean  Heaven? 
It  should. 

We  act  well  together.  (I'd  like  to  do 
a  play  with  George  someday.)  We  live 
together  well,  too.  We  live  very  much 
for  each  other.  With  us,  with  both  of 
us,  the  other  person's  interest  does 
come   first.      We    indulge    each    other. 

For  instance,  I'm  fairly  extravagant 
about  clothes;  George  is  fairly  extrav- 
agant about  books  and  records.  We 
indulge  each  other's  extravagances. 
George  likes  me  to  have  nice  things.  I 
like  George  to  have  the  things  he 
wants. 

That  our  interests  are  varied,  as  they 
are,  brings  richness  to  our  relationship. 
I  am  interested  in  child  psychology. 
I  once  took  a  course  in  anthropology 
at  the  New  School,  in  New  York.  I 
love  interior  decorating.  I  like  to  paint 
materials.  I  like  warmth  in  rooms — and 
in  people. 

I'm  on  the  Board  of  Directors  of 
New  Stages,  which  brought  "The  Re- 
spectful Prostitute"  to  Broadway. 
George  is  one  of  the  Elia  Kazan-Bob- 
by Leeis  group,  now  working  on  pro- 
ducing "The  Sea  Gull."  His  ambition 
in  the  theater  is  to  be  a  director. 

WE  had  no  lovers'  quarrels,  while  we 
were  courting,  because  we  didn't  have 
time  for  them.  We  have  no  married 
quarrels  because,  if  an  argument  arises, 
we  talk  it  out  at  the  time,  thus  pre- 
venting a  long  period  of  time  in  which 
to  be  angry.  We  both  know  that,  in 
an  argument  the  one  impossible  thing 
is  when  people  stop  talking.  We  do  not 
stop  talking  until  one  or  the  other 
gives  in  or  until,  by  mutual  agreement, 
an  agreement  which  settles  the  point 
in  question  is  reached. 

We  lead  very  simple  lives,  at  home; 
not  part  of  any  big  show  business 
crowd.  We  walk  and  drive  and  swim 
and  like  our  friends  and  want  to  travel 
and  hope  to  have  children  and,  even- 
tually, a  house  in  the  country,  a  house 
in  the  sun,  a  house  by  the  sea  .  .  . 

In  our  marriage,  Time  is  my  only 
rival;  is  George's  only  rival — or  ever 
will  be.  Our  working  time  being  dif- 
ferent, I  mean,  our  lack  of  time  to- 
gether. Only  on  our  radio  show  in  the 
morning  are  we  together  during  the 
day,  then  our  paths  separate  until 
dinner  time  and  then,  with  George 
going  on  for  the  evening  performance 
and  with  me  going  to  my  class  in  act- 
ing (which  I  adore)  we  separate  again 
until  bedtime. 

But  whether  we  are  together,  such 
time  as  we  have  together,  or  whether 
we  are  apart,  for  the  first  time  in  our 
lives,  we  really  know  the  meaning  of 
love.  The  love  you  find  when  you're 
mature.  A  different  kind  of  love  than 
ever  we  knew  (and  feared)  before. 
A  love  more  rich,  more  real — in  short, 
the  love  we  found  and,  I  hope  and 
pray,  "finding's  keepings!" 


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{Continued  from  page  27) 


96 


like  the  radio  for  its  genuine  entertain- 
ment have  been  deeply  alarmed  at  the 
manner  in  which  give-away  shows  are 
cutting  into  the  ratings  of  good  per- 
formers. 

Take  Fred  Allen,  for  example.  His 
program  has  always  enjoyed  a  large, 
loyal  following.  Now  he  finds  his  chief 
opposition  is  Stop  the  Music.  His  rat- 
ing has  dropped  steadily  while  Stop  the 
Music  has  risen.  This  just  doesn't  make 
sense.  For  in  Fred  you  have  a  man  of 
keen  wit — and  yet  a  folksy  humorist. 
His  guest  stars  are  always  of  high  cali- 
bre. And  even  when  his  show  falls  be- 
low par — as  it  now  and  then  does,  Mr. 
Allen  being  only  human — it  is  still  head 
and  shoulders  above  any  give-away 
show  I  ever  heard. 

It  might  be  well  to  point  out  here 
that  not  all  give-away  shows  have  a 
popular  following.  But  they're  the 
cheapest  show  a  sponsor  can  buy  in 
these  money-tight  days. 

Why?  Well,  first  the  talent  costs 
little.  The  quizmaster  is  the  most  ex- 
pensive item.  Guest  stars  are  out.  No 
need  to  pay  a  talented  performer  $1500 
when  you  can  give  away  a  new  wash- 
ing machine  instead.  And  a  washing 
machine  that  is  absolutely  free,  so  long 
as  the  quizmaster  remembers  to  men- 
tion the  name  of  the  company. 

There  are  only  two  programs  on  the 
air  that  buy  the  merchandise  they  give 
away.  One  is  County  Fair,  where  the 
prizes  are  rather  modest.  The  other  is 
Vox  Pop,  which  is  currently  shopping 
around  for  a  new  patron. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  actual  quiz 
shows,  those  requiring  that  a  contestant 
know  at  least  his  own  name  and  who 
discovered  America,  retain  a  certain 
parlor  game  appeal.  To  the  credit  of  the 
quizzes,  too,  let  it  be  said  that  the  prizes 
are  reasonable — with  a  few  exceptions. 

The  jackpot  on  Break  the  Bank  soars 
into  the  thousands  at  times — which  is 
too  high  for  healthy  radio.  One  man 
missed  a  sizable  chunk  of  cash  because 
he  couldn't  recall  "What  famous  docu- 
ment proclaimed  the  independence  of 
the  United  States?" 

Another  great  moment  on  Break  the 
Bank  came  when  a  woman  announced 
that  she  had  ten  children.  "You  have?" 
gasped  the  announcer.  "Can  you  name 
them?"  The  woman  obliged.  The 
studio  audience  broke  into  wild  ap- 
plause and  cheers.     A  mother  had  ac- 


tually remembered  the  names  of  her 
children!     Incredible! 

Queen  for  a  Day  takes  no  account  of 
a  lady's  learning.  To  be  chosen  Queen 
you  simply  must  be  a  wishful  thinker 
on  a  grand  scale  and  a  full-blown  ex- 
hibitionist to  boot.  By  her  wishes  is 
Milady  judged.  A  woman  whose  hus- 
band and  brother  are  both  policemen 
said  she  had  always  yearned  to  direct 
traffic  in  Times  Square.  She  did,  and 
the  newspapers  took  her  picture. 

One  Queen  asked  for  a  husband.  An- 
other said  she  wanted  to  spend  the 
night  atop  the  Empire  State  Building. 

For  these  and  similar  feats  Queens 
have  won  a  $15,000  chinchilla  coat,  a 
Piper  cub  plane,  a  trip  to  England,  a 
trailer — and  so  on.  Those  at  home  who 
win  nothing  are  assumed  to  derive  a 
vicarious  thrill  from  hearing  about  the 
prizes  handed  out  to  others. 

This  practice  of  giving  away  prizes  on 
the  air  goes  back  to  1939  and  The  Pot 
o'  Gold.  For  answering  the  telephone 
and  admitting  that  you  were  you,  you 
received  a  check  for  $1000.  If  you 
weren't  in  when  the  program  called, 
you  got  a  $100  check  as  consolation. 

During  the  war  years,  give-away  pro- 
grams became  especially  popular  be- 
cause the  prizes  were  all  of  the  hard- 
to-get  variety.  Nylons,  electrical  ap- 
pliances, automobiles  and  radios  were 
standard  offerings. 

Some  of  our  current  give-away  shows 
are  hold-overs  from  the  war.  I  suppose 
they  must  have  merit  to  survive.  But 
the  new-comers  are  almost  devoid  of 
merit.  Let's  scan  the  list,  separate  the 
swans  from  the  turkeys. 

Among  the  shows  that  offer  entertain- 
ment, along  with  loot,  large  or  small, 
I  would  list  Truth  or  Consequences, 
Houseparty,  Take  It  or  Leave  It  and 
Vox  Pop.  Occasionally  I've  had  a 
chuckle  from  People  Are  Funny  (but 
not  often),  from  County  Fair  and  Dou- 
ble or  Nothing.  I  don't  recommend  any 
of  them,  however,  as  steady  listening. 

That  leaves  us  with  a  fairly  big  pen 
of  turkeys — of -which  I  won't  call  the 
roll.     They  tend  to  blur,  after  a  while. 

Fortunately,  the  radio  dial  has  a  wide 
range.  At  almost  any  hour  the  listener 
has  his  choice  of  a  dozen  programs. 
With  diligence,  you  should  be  able  to 
find  one  that  isn't  giving  away  grand 
pianos  to  all  who  recognize  the  National 
Anthem. 


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EVERY      NIGHT       MONDAY-FRIDAY.     NBC 


Lowell  Thomas 

(Continued  from  page  35) 

I  saw  his  broadcasting  room,  and  the 
only  word  that  came  to  my  mind  was 
"impressive."  One  long  wall  is  a  mass 
of  books;  the  other  is  a  complete  map 
of  the  world  which  Lowell  faces  while 
he  announces  the  news  every  evening. 

After  his  evening  broadcast,-  Lowell 
rejoined  us  for  a  talk-filled  dinner  and 
for  a  couple  of  leisurely  hours  after- 
wards. Then,  a  little  before  11:00  P.M., 
he  vanished  again — to  do  his  repeat 
broadcast  for  the  West.  After  that,  he 
stayed  out  in  his  studio  working  until 
about  2  A.M.,  writing  a  set  of  books  that 
he's  been  preparing  for  the  past  two 
years.  They  are  the  history  of  mankind, 
told  in  the  short  biographies  of  famous 
people  from  the  beginning  of  history 
until  now — 350  such  biographies.  By 
this  coming  fall,  we'll  be  able  to  read 
them. 

It's  a  hard-working  life  he  leads,  but 
certainly  a  fabulous  one.  The  estate 
on  which  he  leads  it  was  bought 
only  two  years  ago — for  half  a  million 
dollars.  Not  bad  for  a  man  who  started 
life  without  a  cent,  and  who  spent  his 
boyhood  in  a  Colorado  mining  town. 
Lowell  has  his  own  theory  about  his 
success  story — but  let  me  tell  my  theory 
first.  I  say  he's  the  greatest  salesman  I 
have  ever  met.  Let  me  give  sure-fire 
proof  with  a  story  I  forced  out  of  him 
only  recently,  at  his  own  dinner  table: 

MANY  years  back,  long  before  he'd 
ever  faced  a  radio  mike  or  dreamed 
of  having  any  money,  he  was  an  un- 
known young  man  who  wanted  to  write 
a  book  on  a  world  trip  he  had  just  made. 
Driving  with  his  wife  and  baby  son 
along  a  country  road  in  Dutchess 
County,  New  York  State,  he  suddenly 
saw  a  charming  house  on  a  hilltop.  He 
said  to  his  wife,  "Frances,  there's  the 
house  where  I  want  to  live  while  I  write 
this  book!" 

"But  somebody  already  lives  in  it — 
look  at  the  curtains  at  the  windows," 
objected  his  wife.  Then  she  added, 
"Lowell,  why  are  you  driving  into  the 
driveway?"  Then,  being  his  wife  and 
used  to  such  surprises,  she  sat  back 
and  said  nothing  further.  Her  husband 
stopped  the  car  in  front  of  the  strange 
house,  rang  the  doorbell,  and  said  to  the 
elderly  lady  who  opened  the  door,  "I 
love  your  house;  I  am  a  struggling 
writer,  and  my  family  and  I  would  like 
to  live  here  while  I  write  a  book." 

The  owner  of  the  house  was  naturally 
startled.  But  what  happened?  After 
five  minutes  of  fast  talk  from  Lowell, 
she  invited  him  and  his  wife  and  baby 
to  stay  with  her  a  year — which  they 
did!  Furthermore,  at  the  end  of  the 
year  she  offered  to  sell  them  the  house. 
The  figure  she  named  was  sky-high. 
Mrs.  Thomas  shook  her  head  when  she 
heard  it. 

"Too  bad,  Lowell,"  she  said.  "We 
haven't  a  cent,  thanks  to  your  financing 
those  expeditions  into  India  this  year — 
we  can  never  hope  to  afford  it." 

"We'll  own  it  in  a  week,"  contradicted 
her  husband.  He  rushed  off  to  see 
Doubleday  Doran,  the  book  publishers. 
There  he  outlined  two  books — verbally 
— and  got  the  biggest  advance  yet  heard 
of  in  the  publishing  business.  Within  a 
week,  they  owned  the  cherished  house 
— which  was  their  home  for  many  years 
until  Lowell  purchased  their  present 
one,  two  years  ago. 

You  see  what  I  mean  about  Lowell's 
being  a  salesman.  However,  neither  his 
success  nor  his  salesmanship  could  have 


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been  predicted  in  his  youth.  Lowell 
was  born  in  Woodington,  Ohio,  fifty-six 
years  back.  His  father  was  Dr.  Harry 
Thomas,  a  surgeon  who  moved  his  wife 
and  son  to  Cripple  Creek,  Colorado, 
right  after  Lowell  was  born.  Loweli 
lived  there  for  the  next  fourteen  years 
—an  altitude  u£  10,000  feet— and  for 
nearly  all  of  those  years  he  was  Cripple 
Creek's  star  speaker.  Not  because  he 
wanted  to  be,  however.  "Oh,  no," 
Lowell  told  me,  "that  was  my  father's 
idea." 

His  father,  you  see,  was  one  of  those 
men  you  can't  help  calling  a  "charac- 
ter"— and  a  wonderful  one.  "My  father, 
far  from  being  just  a  doctor,  was  fasci- 
nated by  everything  in  the  world," 
Lowell  has  told  me.  "We  always  had  a 
telescope  in  our  home  through  which  I 
peered  for  a  third  of  my  youth.  My 
father  taught  me  astrology,  botany, 
zoology,  geology.  He  read  me  the  Bible 
and  all  of  Shakespeare.  Before  I  was 
twelve  I  knew  all  about  comparative 
religions.  And  by  the  time  I  was  four- 
teen I  had  made  more  public  speeches 
than  a  Presidential  candidate.  To 
whom?  To  the  Elks,  Kiwanis,  the 
miners,  and  anyone  else  who'd  listen. 
And  how  I  hated  it!" 

What  he  hated  most  was  the  disci- 
pline his  father  had  forced  on  him — 
insistence  on  correct  pronunciation,  on 
never  sounding  nasal,  on  reciting  dia- 
lect poems  for  practice  in  variety  of 
expression.  "I  hated  all  of  my  father's 
lessons  so  much  that  I  decided  never 
to  speak  in  public  again,"  Lowell 
said.  "But  a  year  after  that  decision 
something  happened  that  completely 
changed  my  mind." 

He  went  East  to  a  new  school.  He 
was  a  stranger  to  the  thousands  of 
students,  who  all  seemed  to  know  each 
other.  Among  them  he  was  silent  and 
lonely.  Then  one  morning  came  a  school 
crisis:  the  speaker  for  the  assembly 
that  day  was  sick.  Who  would  take  his 
place  in  announcing  the  school  pro- 
gram? "I  could,"  offered  Lowell,  and 
did.  That  one  speech  changed  his  whole 
life  at  school.  He  saw  in  astonishment 
that  after  that  morning  everyone  said 
hello  to  him — and  later  on  he  was  even 
elected  captain  of  the  football  team. 

"That  was  the  starting  point,"  Lowell 
told  me.  "From  then  on,  all  my  life 
long,  things  have  showered  on  me — as 
a  direct  result  of  my  father's  teachings 
when  I  was  a  child." 

He  went  through  four  different  col- 
leges like  a  meteor — and  earned  his  own 
living  on  the  side.  At  the  University 
of  Chicago  he  was  asked  to  pinch-hit 
for  a  sick  professor  in  the  forensic  ora- 


tory department.  "I  started  out  to 
pinch-hit,  and  wound  up  being  a  pro- 
fessor for  my  complete  course  in  law 
school,  teaching  thousands  of  men  how 
to  do  courtroom  speaking,"  Lowell  said. 
After  graduating  from  Chicago,  he  went 
on  to  Princeton.  Here  again  he  was  a 
professor,  this  time  in  the  English  de- 
partment. Meanwhile,  all  the  time  he 
was  attending  school  he  was  also  re- 
porting for  local  newspapers. 

With  World  War  I  he  ceased  being  a 
professor  and  a  bachelor  at  the  same 
time.  He  married  pretty  Frances  Ryan, 
and  he  went  to  every  front  in  the  war 
as  a  newspaper  correspondent.  Again, 
this  was  due  to  salesmanship.  A  twenty- 
two-year-old  professor  was  far  too 
unimportant  to  warrant  war  correspon- 
dent's papers — but  he  talked  an  influ- 
ential newspaper  man  into  backing  him 
and  was  on  his  way  to  the  front.  His 
reporting  was  tops.  After  it  was  over, 
his  father's  teachings  showered  fortune 
on   him   again — entirely   unexpectedly. 

At  a  party  in  England  before  return- 
ing to  the  United  States,  he  met  a 
British  impresario.  The  Englishman 
talked  to  him  a  few  minutes  and  then 
said  suddenly,  "You're  the  only  war 
correspondent  who's  also  a  good  speak- 
er." Even  more  abruptly  he  added,  "If 
you  get  up  a  lecture  on  the  recent  war, 
I'll  pay  your  expenses  throughout  a  tour 
of  England.  We'll  split  the  profits.  Will 
you  do  it?" 

The  fact  that  Lowell  had  never  given 
public  lectures  before  did  not,  of  course, 
stop  Lowell.  His  only  answer  was, 
"Immediately."  He  then  prepared  a 
lecture  that  covered  every  phase  of  the 
war  from  A  to  Z,  and  every  battlefront. 
He  gave  it  three  times — to  three  bored 
and  restless  audiences.  The  coughing 
and  yawning  couldn't  be  ignored,  and 
he  went  to  his  backer  about  it.  "But 
I  have  noticed  something,"  he  added. 
"Whenever  I  get  to  the  part  about 
Lawrence  in  Arabia,  everyone  seems  to 
wake  up  and  hang  on  every  word." 

"Then,"  said  the  impresario,  "why 
not  forget  your  original  war  lecture — 
and  just  talk  solely  on  Lawrence?" 

Lowell  did.  Let  me  hastily  sum- 
marize the  avalanche  of  success  that 
followed :  Lowell's  lecture  on  Lawrence 
of  Arabia  became  the  second  most 
famous  lecture  in  history— "Acres  of 
Diamonds,"  by  Russell  Conway,  being 
number  one.  Lowell  himself  gave  his 
Lawrence  lecture  in  every  town  in 
England.  Then  he  sold  it  to  various 
lecturers  in  other  countries — it  was 
eventually  given  in  twenty-one  lan- 
guages. It  was  printed  repeatedly.  And 
finally  Lowell  sat  down  and  wrote  a 


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book  based  on  it,  "With  Lawrence  in 
Arabia." 

It  was  after  that  that  Lowell  became 
a  world  traveler.  His  wife  always  went 
with  him,  and  he  concentrated  on  writ- 
ing up  his  own  adventures  and  other 
men's — into  forty  books.  Among  them 
were  such  best-sellers  as  Count  Luck- 
ner  the  Sea-Devil,  India,  Land  of  the 
Black  Pagoda,  and  Beyond  Khyber 
Pass.  Radio?  He'd  never  thought  of 
it.  By  1930  he  was  an  established  travel 
writer  who  lived  in  that  house  on  a 
hill  top  and  never  came  into  New  York. 

That  is,  until  a  wealthy  Philadelphian 
named  William  Paley  bought  into  CBS 
and  began  searching  for  a  radio  news- 
caster. At  that  time  Floyd  Gibbons  was 
the  only  news  commentator  in  radio; 
he  spoke  on  the  Literary  Digest  pro- 
gram over  Paley's  big  rival  NBC.  Three 
things  happened:  Literary  Digest 
dropped  Gibbons;  then  they  moved  over 
to  CBS;  and  then  Paley  began  shouting 
up  and  down  the  streets  of  New  York, 
"Where  is  a  man  who  can  announce 
news  for  the  Literary  Digest?" 

SOMEBODY  shouted  back,  "Lowell 
Thomas!"  Lowell  found  himself 
hauled  out  of  his  quiet  house  in  the 
country.  After,  when  the  Digest  failed, 
an  oil  company  put  the  same  Thomas 
voice  on  the  air  at  the  same  hour  for  a 
sixteen-year  period.  Now,  with  his 
soap  sponsor,  Thomas  has  hit  the 
eighteen-year  record — with  no  inter- 
ruptions ever.  He  manages,  by  Thomas 
salesmanship,  to  get  in  long  skiing 
trips:  he  talks  his  sponsors  into  letting 
him  broadcast  from  whatever  ski  lodge 
he  goes  to  in  Canada,  Vermont,  or  New 
Hampshire.  Radio  experts  set  up  all  he 
needs  in  his  hotel  room.  On  his  world 
trips  he  broadcasts  from  wherever  he 
stands  on  the  globe.  Thanks  to  his 
voice  and  his  selling  ability,  Thomas 
lives  ten  lives  instead   of  one! 

But  the  most  prominent  of  these  lives 
is  his  family  one.  His  wife  Frances 
long  ago  made  the  rule,  "We  won't  have 
our  house  look  like  a  museum" — so  all 
of  Lowell's  travel  trophies,  from  Afri- 
can masks  to  Hindu  robes,  are  kept  in 
an  enormous  third-floor  rumpus  room. 
Their  son  Lowell  Jr.  has  added  quite 
a  collection  of  his  own — for  in  his 
twenty-four  years  Lowell  Jr.  has  built 
up  a  travel  history  almost  as  big  as  his 
old  man's.  At  fifteen,  he  was  a  camera- 
man with  Admiral  Kimmel  on  a  trip 
around  South  America;  at  sixteen,  he 
and  his  camera  went  on  an  Alaskan 
expedition;  at  seventeen,  he  was  moun- 
tain-climbing in  British  Columbia;  at 
eighteen,  he  was  a  flier  in  the  war. 
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Jr.  piloting  an  observation  plane. 

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every  summer,  his  "Nine  Old  Men" 
baseball  team — the  most  unprofessional 
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die Rickenbacker,  Ed  Thorgerson,  Rob- 
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Ruth,  Ted  Husing,  and  Lanny  Ross. 
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Paul  and  Nicolette 

(Continued  from  page  65) 

room  Nicolette  went  on  into  the  hall, 
and  then  downstairs  to  her  own  room. 
There  she  collapsed  into  a  small  up- 
holstered chair,  her  knees  shaking,  her 
breath  coming  fast  and  unevenly. 

She  had  been  a  fool  to  go  with  Teddy 
in  the  first  place,  she  scolded  herself. 
It  was  all  over  now — the  pretense  that 
her  visit  there  was  a  casual  one.  Not 
simply  because  Paul's  eyes  had  told  her 
that  she  was  beautiful — they  had  told 
her  that  before,  under  conditions  she 
trusted  better,  when  she'd  been  tired 
and  drawn  from  lack  of  sleep,  and 
dirty  because  there  was  no  water  in 
which  to  bathe,  and  pinched  and  blue 
with  cold.  Nor  had  it  been  the  inti- 
macy of  the  incident — in  a  sense  they 
had  lived  more  intimately  before,  in 
the  weeks  they  had  worked  together. 
She  had  watched  over  his  sleeping 
face  on  planes  and  trains  and  in  the 
native  hut  where  she  had  nursed  him 
through  the  injuries  he'd  received  in 
Africa  .  .  .  and  in  the  freezing  Nurn- 
berg  cottage,  where,  wrapped  in  their 
separate  cocoons  of  blankets,  they  had 
shared  the  same  room  for  the  sake  of 
safety  and  the  feeble  warmth  of  a  tiny 
charcoal  fire. 

BUT  it  had  been  a  different  intimacy. 
The  mission  that  bound  them  to- 
gether had  also  kept  them  apart;  with 
their  eyes  fixed  upon  their  goal,  there 
had  been  little  time  for  looking  at 
each  other.  Here,  Paul  was  a  man  in  his 
own  home,  and  she  was — what?  Some- 
thing more  than  a  visitor,  certainly, 
but  just  what,  exactly?  She  had  seen 
the  question  in  the  eyes  of  the  family, 
but  she  herself  had  not  thought  it 
needed  an  answer — until  now.  Now 
she  realized  that  she  herself  needed  to 
know  the  answer.  She  must  have  a 
talk  with  Paul  at  the  first  opportunity. 

The  opportunity  came  some  time  la- 
ter, and  under  shocking  circum- 
stances. A  few  days  after  their  arrival 
in  San  Francisco,  she  and  Paul  went 
to  Sky  Ranch  to  visit  Claudia  and  Clif- 
ford. Paul  asked  Teddy  to  accompany 
them,  and  Teddy  refused — emphati- 
cally, Nicolette  gathered,  and  with 
something  of  her  old  bitterness.  Nico- 
lette was  not  present  at  the  scene,  but 
Paul  told  her  a  little  about  it,  and  his 
distress  and  uncertainty  as  to  what  to 
do  about  Teddy  told  her  a  great  deal 
more.  She  was  not  surprised,  then, 
when  upon  their  return  from  the  ranch 
they  were  met  with  the  news  that 
Teddy  had  packed  her  bags  and  gone 
back  to  her  job,  leaving  no  word  ex- 
cept that  she  positively  did  not  wish 
to  be  followed  or  asked  to  return. 

Paul  was  stunned.  He  had  come  back 
from  the  ranch  rested  and  with  high 
hopes  that  a  solution  could  be  found 
for  Teddy — and  now  this! 

"I  don't  understand,"  he  said  over 
and  over  again  to  Nicolette.     "Why — " 

"I  think  I  understand,"  said  Nico- 
lette. "It's  an  old  pattern,  isn't  it? 
Anyone  in  whom  Paul  is  interested.  .  ." 

"But  she  threw  us  together!  She 
wanted  it,  from  the  first  time  she  met 
us  in  Nurnberg — " 

Men,  thought  Nicolette  pityingly. 
Even  Paul  in  all  his  wisdom,  to  whom 
the  whole  family  turned  for  advice  and 
aid  in  their  most  delicate  problems,  was 
helpless  when  it  became  a  matter  of  the 
devious  methods  of  a  woman  who  had 
set  her  heart  upon  him. 

"That  was  different,"  said  Nicolette. 
"That   was   Germany.     There  she   had 


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her  work;  there  she  was  a  nurse,  doing 
an  important  job  for  people  who 
needed  her.  She  was  not  so  much 
Teddy  Barbour,  foster-daughter  of 
Paul  Barbour.  I  think  she  may  have 
been  wise  in  wanting  to  stay  there, 
Paul,  in  not  wanting  to  come  back  with 
us.  Once  she  came  back  here,  there 
were  the  old  conditions,  the  old  feeling 
of  frustration — " 

"But,"  he  protested,  "even  the  first 
day  or  two  after  we  got  here — the  day 
she  put  you  in  her  negligee  and  per- 
fumed you  and  brought  you  up  to  my 
studio — " 

"Don't  you  see?"  she  interrupted. 
"That  was  her  desperate  effort  to  live 
up  to  what  she  had  said  and  done  about 
us  in  Germany.  She  felt  the  old  an- 
tagonisms rising,  and  she  went  over- 
board to  make  you  conscious  of  me, 
to  cover  up  what  was  happening  inside 
her." 

Paul  thought  about  it.  "You  think 
so?"  he  asked  slowly.     "It  all  seems — " 

Nicolette  nodded.  "It  all  came  back 
— everything  she'd  ever  felt  when  you'd 
shown  interest  in  a  woman.  She  sank 
back  into  the  same  old  waters  of  de- 
spair. She  felt  the  waves  of  anger  and 
frustration  and  disillusion  sweeping 
over  her,  and  she  hated  herself  .  .  . 
which,  incidentally,  made  her  hate  me." 

"Not  you  personally — " 

"DERHAPS  not,"  she  agreed.  "I  think 
I  perhaps  her  mind  approved  of  me, 
liked  me.  But  her  heart  was  a  different 
matter.  Her  heart  she  could  not 
control." 

"I  suggested  a  psychiatrist,"  Paul  ad- 
mitted, "when  she  fairly  flew  at  me  for 
insisting  that  she  go  with  us  to  Sky 
Ranch." 

"I  see,"  said  Nicolette  softly. 
"And—" 

He  shook  his  head.  "She  reviled  me. 
She  said  'I  offer  you  my  love,  and  you 
offer  me  a  cure  for  a  sick  spirit.' " 

"Oh!"  said  Nicolette,  and  felt  a  little 
sick  in  spirit  herself.  Things  had  been 
even  worse  for  Teddy  than  she  had  re- 
alized. "Paul,  I  ought  not  to  have 
come.  The  poor  girl  was  so  unhappy — 
I  should  not  have  been  here  to  torment 
her." 

"But  that's  fantastic!"  he  started  up 
angrily.  "The  girl  is  my  daughter!  Am 
I  to  be  deprived  of  any  sort  of  natural 
relationships  with  all  women  because 
Teddy  can't  bear  the  idea?  That's  mak- 
ing normal  people  bow  down  to  a 
neurotic — " 

"All  the  same,"  said  Nicolette,  "I 
should  not  have  come.  Which  brings 
me  to  a  question  I  have  been  wanting 
to  ask  you — Why  have  you  kept  me 
with  you?  Why  didn't  you  say,  after  we 
delivered  Patricia  Baldwin  into  safe 
hands  back  in  New  York,  'Nicolette 
Moore,  it  has  been  nice  knowing  you, 
but  now  that  the  adventure  is  over — 
goodbye'?" 

Some  of  the  shadow  lifted  from  his 
face;  his  eyes  twinkled  a  little.  "Why 
didn't  you  say  that  to  me?" 

"I  had  intended  to,"  she  returned. 
"I  thought  that  when  we  arrived  in 
New  York  from  Germany  our  paths 
would  separate.  I  supposed  that  you 
and  Teddy  would  come  on  West,  and  I 
had  intended  to  go  to  Florida  to  await 
my  next  call  from  Washington." 

"Isn't  it  just  as  simple  to  await  the 
call  here  in  California?"  he  asked. 

"You  know  it  isn't,"  she  answered 
shortly.  "In  Florida  there  is  no  Paul 
Barbour.  I  would  not  have  made 
Teddy  unhappy,  nor  Father  Barbour 
unhappy — " 

"Father  Barbour!"  he  exclaimed. 
"Nicolette,    can't    you    distinguish    be- 


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tween  an  elderly  man  who  finds  fault 
with  everything  and  everyone  and  a 
man  who  is  really  antagonistic?" 

"Yes — "  She  crossed  over  to  the  win- 
dow, stared  unseeingly  out,  drumming 
her  fingers  upon  the  pane.  Over  her 
shoulder  she  said,  "I  can  see  that  some 
day  your  father  might  sit  down  in 
friendly  acceptance  of  me,  given  time 
for  adjustment.  But — "  She  didn't  fin- 
ish. But,  her  thoughts  ran,  you  still 
haven't  answered  my  question. 

SHE  heard  him  get  up  from  his  chair, 
take  a  few  restless  steps  toward  her 
and  away  again.  When  he  spoke,  it 
was  so  suddenly  and  in  so  altered  a  tone 
that  she  started. 

"Nicolette — I  want  to  ask  you  some- 
thing. Have  you  sincerely  considered 
what  you  would  do  if  I  were  to  ask  you 
to  marry  me?" 

"Is  that  a  fair  question?"  she  asked 
without  turning. 

"Perhaps  not,"  he  admitted.  "We've 
never  discussed  marriage^and  now  I'm 
sorry  Teddy  made  so  much  of  it  be- 
cause sometimes  I  wonder  if  I'm  think- 
ing about  it  because  she  put  the  idea 
there  or  because  it's  what's  in  my  own 
heart.  And  you — you  must  have  given 
it  some  thought,  too.  I'm  sure  you 
have." 

"Thought?"  she  repeated  in  a  far- 
away voice.  "Yes — but  what  I've 
thought  is  for  me  alone  to  know." 

"Oh."  He  sounded  rebuffed,  shut  out. 
Then,  understanding,  he  said,  "You 
mean  until  I've  said  to  you,  'Nicolette, 
will  you  marry  me'?" 

"Yes."  She  turned  and  faced  him, 
glad  that  her  voice  was  steady,  glad 
that  they  could  discuss  this  fragile  sub- 
ject as  openly  and  honestly  as  they  had 
discussed  everything  else.  "When  you 
have,  said  that  to  me,  then  there  will 
be  time  enough  to  know  my  true 
thoughts  on  the  subject." 

"You  know,"  he  warned  her,  "it 
would  mean  giving  up  this  interna- 
tional espionage  work  for  which  you 
have  trained  yourself.  It  would  mean 
coming  to  this  house  to  live.  Dad  and 
Mom  are  old  people.  If  I  were  to  go 
away  and  leave  them,  this  house  which 
has  been  their  home  for  so  long  would 
be  too  much  for  them." 

"But  it  isn't  good,  Paul,"  said  Nico- 
lette, "for  a  man  to  bring  a  new  wife 
into  his  parents'  home.  Even  the  low- 
liest peasant  on  the  Siberian  Steppes 
knows  that." 

"On  the  contrary,"  he  replied,  "I 
think  Mother  and  Dad  would  receive  a 
wife  I  chose  into  this  house  with  great 
happiness  and  relief.  If  they  could 
live  the  rest  of  their  lives  under  this 
roof  without  the  worries  and  tribula- 
tions of  housekeeping,  I  think  it  would 
solve  a  great  problem  in  their  lives.  I 
know  it's  a  nice  problem  to  present  to 
any  girl — but  all  these  things  would 
have  to  be  considered  by  anyone  I 
asked  to  marry  me." 

"I  see."  She  was  silent  a  moment. 
Then  she  asked,  "Is — is  that  why  you 
have  not  married  sooner?" 

"No." 

She  waited,  finally  probed  gently,  "Do 
you  mind  saying  why?" 

"No."  His  voice  was  flat,  deliberate. 
"Because  there  has  been  no  one  since 
the  girl  I  did  marry  and  lost  with  whom 
I  had  any  desire  to  spend  the  rest  of 
my  future." 

The  answer  fell  like  a  stone  into  the 
pool  of  silence  and  stillness  which 
seemed  suddenly  to  have  filled  her. 
"But  now — ?"  she  thought,  and  closed 
her  lips  tightly.  She  would  ask  no 
more  questions  for  which  no  answers 
were  forthcoming.    No,  it  was  perhaps 


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better  to  go,  to  leave  this  house,  and 
to  return  to  her  own  life,  as  Teddy 
had  done. 

BUT  she  did  not  leave,  for  a  reason  as 
old  as  family  life  itself.  She  was 
needed.  The  children  and  grandchil- 
dren came  to  the  house  singly  and  in 
groups  at  all  hours,  and  the  amount  of 
work  they  made  for  Mother  Barbour 
was  incredible.  Hazel  and  Betty  and 
Claudia  helped  as  they  always  had,  but 
they  had  their  own  houses  and  their 
own  families;  they  were  glad  to  turn 
the  work  over  to  other  hands. 

The  day  came  when  even  Father 
Barbour  made  his  peace  with  her,  over 
a  pared  apple. 

He  went  up  to  Paul's  studio  one  aft- 
ernoon and  found  Nicolette  there  be- 
fore him,  comfortably  curled  up  in  the 
deep  chair  across  from  Paul's.  He  was 
testy  .about  it  until  Nicolette  quar- 
tered an  apple  for  him,  shaving  the  peel 
off  tissue-thin. 

"To  your  taste?"  she  asked,  handing 
it  to  him  and  smiling  a  little. 

"Eh?"  he  grunted.  "Urn — yes.  Why, 
even  Fanny  doesn't  pare  the  skin  of  an 
apple  so  thin!" 

Paul  grinned.  "One  of  Nicolette's 
habits  from  early  training.  Waste 
nothing — " 

"If  you  think  that  is  something,"  put 
in  Nicolette,  "you  should  see  me  with 
a  potato.  In  fact,  it  makes  me  feel  bad 
to  remove  the  jacket  from  a  potato.  In 
my  girlhood  days  they  were  always 
eaten  down  to  the  last  crumb." 

"I  abhor  waste,"  said  Father  Bar- 
bour positively,  and  the  glance  he  gave 
her  from  under  his  brows  was  not  so 
sharp  as  formerly. 

Nicolette's  eyes  sparkled.  Now,  she 
thought,  is  the  time  .  .  .  Rising,  she 
said,  "You  will  want  to  excuse  me.  I 
think  often  that  I  am  too  much  in  Paul's 
studio  .  .  .  there  must  be  talk  enough 
that  I  am  in  the  house  at  all." 

Father  Barbour  stared,  and  exploded, 
"Talk!  Why  should  there  be  talk?  Why 
shouldn't  you  be  here?" 

"After  all,"  she  reminded  him  de- 
murely, "Paul  and  I  were  on  a  mission 
together.  There  is  only  our  word  for 
our  integrity;  there  is  only  our  word 
for  what  goes  on  in  this  house." 

Father  Barbour  rose  majestically. 
Miss  Moore,"  he  thundered,  "let  me 
put  you  straight  on  one  subject!  So 
long  as  our  confidence  in  Paul  is  secure, 
which  I  guarantee  you  it  is,  then  you 
have  nothing  to  concern  yourself  about 
within  the  confines  of  the  Barbour 
clan.  What  other  people  may  say  or 
think  is  a  matter  over  which  I  have  no 
control  nor  wish  to,  a  matter  about 
which  I  have  not  the  slightest  concern! 
Um — won't  you  have  a  piece  of  this 
apple?" 

Nicolette  took  the  apple  and  left 
them,  exchanging  a  dancing  glance  with 
Paul  as  she  went.  Then  Paul  turned  to 
his  father,  still  grinning.  "Trying  to 
read  something  in  my  face,  Dad?" 

"No  more,"  said  the  old  man,  "than 
you're  trying  to  read  in  mine." 

"Oh,  I  know  what  you're  thinking," 
Paul  replied.  "You're  saying  to  your- 
self, 'Paul,  don't  be  a  fool.  Don't  let 
this  one  get  away  from  you.'  " 

"That's  all  you  know,"  returned  his 
father.  "I  wasn't  thinking  any  such 
thing.  I  was  thinking,  'By  George,  if  I 
were  forty  years  younger  and  a  single 
man  .  .  .'  " 

AND  then,  after  weeks,  months,  of 
Nicolette's  being  a  part  of  the  family, 
the  letter  came  from  Washington,  ask- 
ing her  to  stand  by  for  a  new  assign- 
ment, and  to  be  ready  to  leave  within 


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the  month.  Mother  Barbour  took  to 
her  bed  with  a  violent  sick  headache. 
Father  Barbour,  who  had  never  before 
been  known  to  miss  a  meal,  was  able 
to  put  down  only  a  cup  of  coffee  at 
breakfast  and  nothing  at  all  at  lunch; 
he  retreated  to  his  favorite  chair  in 
the  library,  shutting  himself  in  with 
his  black  thoughts. 

Paul  and  Nicolette  talked  it  over 
in  the  studio  at  the  top  of  the  house. 

"But  it  doesn't  say  that  you  have  to 
leave  immediately,"  Paul  said.  "It 
says  within  the  next  month.  And  I 
guess  from  this  that  whatever  your  as- 
signment is  to  be,  it  will  not  be  out- 
side the  United  States." 

Nicolette  bit  her  lips.  After  all  this 
time,  he  was  shaken,  searching  for 
something  to  cling  to.  She  tempered 
her  impulse  toward  kindness.  "I  could 
very  well  be,"  she  said.  "After  all, 
there  is  nothing  to  indicate  .that  it 
won't  be  on  the  other  side  of  the 
world." 

"The  other  side  of — Nicolette,  there's 
no  need  for  you  to  have  anything  more 
to  do  with  that  sort  of  life.  Stay  here. 
There's  need  for  you  here.  You're 
wanted.      Stay   here,    and — and — " 

"And  what?" 

He  hesitated,  and  plunged.  "Marry 
me." 

She  smiled  sadly,  shaking  her  head. 
"Ah — you  finally  said  it,  didn't  you? 
But  it  was  so  hard!  And  right  now,  I'd 
feel  like  the  meanest  and  cheapest  of 
women  if  I  had  any  intention  of  ac- 
cepting what  you  offer." 

"But  if  I  hadn't  meant  it — " 

"No,  Paul.  This  isn't  the  time  or  the 
place  for  you  and  me  to  talk  of  mar- 
riage. I  would  never  marry  anyone 
in  a  moment  of  haste  or  panic.  That 
is  not  the  way." 

"But  if  you  once  leave  us — " 

She  leaned  forward,  and  he  thought 
that  he  must  have  been  mad  not  to 
have  asked  her  before.  Never  had  she 
seemed  so  lovely,  so  in  earnest,  so 
right. 

"Paul — if  our  relationship  is  so 
ephemeral  that  three  or  even  six 
months'  separation  will  dissolve  our  in- 
terest, then  it  is  a  poor  thing  indeed. 
This  is  what  I  suggest:  I  will  accept 
this  assignment.  It  will  not  be  less 
than  three  months,  I  know  that.  When 
it  is  finished,  if  it  is  still  your  wish,  I 
will  come  back  here.  Then  perhaps  all 
of  us  will  know  better  what  we  want." 

"I  know  now,"  Paul  insisted.  "Nico- 
lette, I  mean  it.  The  idea  of  your  leav- 
ing is  pure  desolation.  Stay  here.  Marry 
me.    Make  your  home — " 

Still  she  shook  her  head.  "Hush, 
Paul!  Say  those  words  to  me  when  I 
come  back  again — then  perhaps  I  will 
believe  them!" 

With  that,  he  had  to  be  content.  Nico- 
lette would  not  move  an  inch  from  her 
stand,  not  with  all  the  pressure  of  the 
family  upon  her  .  .  .  not  until  the  final, 
confirming  telegram  had  arrived  and 
she  was  actually  packing.  Then  she 
considered  it  unfair  that  Paul  came 
upon  her  uninvited  and  unannounced 
except  for  a  tap  on  her  door. 

"Come  in,"  she  called  without  turn- 
ing from  the  suitcase  she  had  open  on 
the  bed.  "I  do  not  have  much  time — 
you  will  excuse  me  if  I  go  ahead  with 
what  I  have  to  do?" 

"VES,"  Paul  agreed  in  a  hollow  voice, 
land  looked  at  his  watch.  "Five-fifteen 
your  plane  leaves,  and  it's  two-forty- 
five  right  now.  Nicolette — wire  Wasn- 
ington  you're  not  coming." 

She  straightened,  facing  him.  "And 
what  would  I  say  in  such  a  wire, 
please?" 


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"Dear  Washington,"  said  Paul 
promptly,  "unexpectedly  detained  by 
matrimony.  Please  drop  my  name 
from  your  list  of  available  agents." 

She  bent  low  over  her  packing. 
"Don't  make  it  any  harder,"  she 
whispered. 

"Nicolette,  look  at  me — "  When  she 
turned  her  face  aside,  he  got  up,  came 
around  the  bed  and  turned  her  toward 
him,  his  hand  hard  upon  her  arms. 
"Nicolette!  You've  been  crying — " 

She  tried  to  pull  away.  "Do  you 
think  it's  fun  for  me?"  she  flung  at 
him.  "To  leave  a  house  where  I've  put 
down  such  roots,  where  I've  had  the 
best  time  in  my  whole  life — " 

He  shook  her  a  little.  "Don't  fight  it, 
Nicolette.  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  that 
sometimes  being  strong  is  not  strength 
at  all,  but  only  a  defiance,  a  weapon 
against  fear?" 

He'd  hit  home.  Her  eyes  were  enor- 
mous, pleading  with  him.  "Don't  say 
that,"  she  begged.  "It  is  difficult 
enough,  and  now  you  would  turn  me 
against  myself." 

"Not  against  yourself."  He  spoke 
softly,  but  some  of  the  joy  and  tri- 
umph that  filled  him  escaped  into  his 
voice.  "I  only  want  you  to  stop  fight- 
ing yourself.  Standing  there  with 
your  head  up  and  your  fists  clenched, 
you  look  exactly  like  a  person  before 
a  firing  squad — there's  nothing  left  but 
to  stand  and  take  it — " 

She  went  limp  suddenly,  sagging 
against  him.  And  the  tears  came,  a 
steady  stream,  all  the  more  terrifying 
because  no  sound  accompanied  them. 

He  let  her  go,  stricken  at  what  he 
had  done — to  her,  and  to  his  own 
cause.  The  firing  squad,  he  thought; 
her  husband  .  ...  Of  all  the  clumsy, 
blundering — 

"Nicolette,  forgive  me,"  he  pleaded. 
"I  felt  like  a  great  big  thick-skulled 
oaf — " 

"Please  don't."  She  shook  her  head, 
managed  a  wavery  smile.  "It  would 
not  have  affected  me  this  way  if  I 
weren't  already  so  emotional  over  leav- 
ing all  of  you.  Now  please  help  me  to 
pack;  help  me  to  get  away  as  grace- 
fully and  easily  as  I  can." 

In  the  hall  Paul  encountered  his  fa- 
ther, who  was  on  his  way  upstairs  to 
join  Mother  Barbour  in  the  studio.  The 
two  men  hesitated,  stopped;  then  Fa- 
ther Barbour  asked  heavily,  "Soon?" 

"In  about  half  an  hour,"  Paul  an- 
swered. "It'll  take  us  an  hour  to  get 
to  the  airport.  She'd  like  to  see  us  all 
before  she  leaves." 

Paul  went  on  downstairs  to  tele- 
phone. Father  Barbour  made  his  way 
to  the  studio,  where  his  wife  sat  finger- 
ing through  her  button  box,  a  treasure 
trove  collected  over  a  lifetime. 

"Betty  asked  me  for  a  pearl  sun- 
burst the  other  day,"  she  greeted  him 
absently,  "and  I'm  sure  I  have  one — " 

"Buttons!"  snorted  Father  Barbour. 
"Fanny,  what  are  we  going  to  do  about 
that  boy?  Nicolette's  leaving  in  half 
an  hour,  and  Paul — well,  for  all  he's  so 
capable  in  settling  other  people's  prob- 
lems, apparently  he's  unable  to  solve 
his  own." 

"Oh,  no,  Henry."  She  smiled  up  at 
him  over  the  buttons.  Fanny  Barbour 
had  her  own  reserves  of  strength.  She 
had  had  her  moment  of  panic  over 
Nicolette's  leaving;  then  she  had 
thought  it  through  and  had  arrived  at 
her  own  comforting  conclusions. 

"Nicolette's  no  problem,"  she  said 
confidently.  "The  solution  to  that  one 
will  come  as  easily  and  naturally  as 
breathing.  There's  a  very  satisfactory 
ending  to  the  story  of  Paul  and  Nico- 
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'         $2.98  with  coupon.      Same  money  back  guarantee.  Q 


^ISsaTINY  RADIO! 


FITS  IN  YOUR  HAND 


REALLY    WORKS    TOO! 

Unbreakable  RED  plastic 

i  Cabinets.     NO    TUBES. 

,     BATTERIES    OR     ELEC- 

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^crystal"     and     Roto     Tuner! 

.JASY   TO    USE!    SHOULD    LAST 

FOR    YEARS! 

uUARANTEED  TO  WORK  On  local 
radio  programs  by  following  directions! 

I  AIM  V  M  00  Dnclniirl  or  send  only  $1.00  (bill,  money 
ONLY  M.SS  rOSipaiU  order  or  check)  and  pay  postman 
$2.99  plus  postage  on  delivery.  COMPLETE  READY  TO 
PLAY-WITH  PERSONAL  PHONE-MARVELOUS  GIFTS 
-BARGAIN  PRICED!  GET  YOUR.  TINY  RADIO  NOW! 
PAKETTE  PROOUCTS  CO.,  Inc.,  Dept.TMW-9,  Kearney,  Nebraska 


105 


Most  amazing  offer        w-  ^ 

in  Fiction  Book  Club  history  O&M  ^%? 


of  these  new  best-sellers 


Ji'Zri 


Phebe  dances  her 

wanton  way  to  wealth, 

power  and  luxury 

Yes,  she  knows  what  she  wants  and  gets  it- 
trading  her  sleek  wild-cat  beauty  to  the  highest 
bidder.  What  a  woman!  And  what  a  story!  Yours 
FREE— together  with  that  other  new  best-seller, 
"Melissa"— yes,  BOTH  free  when  you  mail  coupon. 


Mi 


"Drums  of  Destiny" 

finest  romantic  novel  since  "Anthony 
Adverse"  and  "The  Sun  Is  My  Undoing" 

Up  from  the  Paris  of  the  Caribbean 
booms  this  throbbing  novel  of  pas- 
sion, revolution  and  epic  adven- 
ture as  pagan  passions  get  be- 
yond control.  Meet  Phebe, 
voodoo  priestess  of  love, 
with  a  face  like  Helen 
of  Troy,  a  body  like 
Cleopatra,  and  a  soul 
black  as  jungle  nights 
...Duncan   Stewart, 
handsome  renegade 
doctor . . .  and  that 
mighty  figure,  Henri 
Christophe,  the  slave 
who  becomes  a  king.  As 
the    Hartford    Times 
says,  '"Drums  of  Des- 
tiny' has  everything!" 


/ 


"Vast,  puls- 
ing novel  of 
a    dramatic 

era"—  soys 
New  York  Times 


^E  JL  I  *  *-** 


££     $%     £!=     $%     £&■     £%     ££     &z     £"*■     *f£     at     #fe     *«i 

*W-       -igf       «(*      i#      ■>#■      '*&      ttt       -«*■       -me       *tF      *#      ^F      5# 


«  e 


as  a  new  member 
of  The  Fiction  Book  Club 


[ y  i<»1V 


fgWXt&V-X* 


Yes,  as  a  special  introductory  gift 
for  becoming  a  new  member  of  The 
Fiction  Book  Club,  we  will  send  you 
absolutely  free — not  just  one— but 
BOTH  of  these  outstanding  best- 
sellers... specially  prepared  for  Club 
distribution  and  currently  selling  in 
the    publishers'   editions  for  $6.00! 

Both  Books— Yours  Free! 
This  is  a  mighty  expensive  offer,  but 
it's  the  best  way  we  know  to  prove 
to  you  what  wonderful  books  you 
will  be  offered  regularly  as  a  Club 
member— at  savings  up  to  $1.61  on 
each  book  you  select. 

Don't  Delay! 

Mail  Coupon  Today! 

Hurry!  Make  sure  that  you  get  your 

two   FREE    new   best-selling    novels! 


• 


TSsesis 


She  was  taught 

Uli  to  hate  all  men  .  . . 

all  the  time! 

Melissa  is  a  beautiful  woman  who  doesn't  know 
she's  beautiful— or  how  to  be  a  woman.  She's  the 
fascinating  heroine  of  this  newest  smash-hit  best- 
seller—yours FREE— together  with  "Drums  of 
Destiny"— yes,  BOTH  free  when  you  mail  coupon 


She'll  Durn  Into  Your  Heart 

She's  "Melissa"— by  Taylor  Caldwell— 
author   of    "This   Side   of    Innocence" 
Here's  the  hauntingly  different  story 
( of  a  strange  woman  and  a  stranger 
Ik  marriage.  Even  three  years  after 
her  wedding  night  she  is  still 
\  an  unkissed  bride!  Why  did 
this  strange  and  beauti- 
ful woman  hate  all  men 
0—  then  marry  the  one 
she  hated  most?  Was  it 
for  money— for  revenge 
-or  because  of  the  evil 
that  warped  her  every 
thought?  How  Melissa 
was  reborn— and  found 
happiness  in  a  love 
greater  than  the  sinis- 
ter spell  that  almost 
wrecked  her  life  makes 
an  unforgettable  novel. 


—22S8" 


"Melissa" 


should  equal 
success  of 
"THIS  SIDE  OF 
INNOCENCE" 

which  sold 
over  one  mil- 
lion copies  in 
one  year! 


,--  (Send  No  Money!  Mail  Coupon!)  --. 


106 


BOTH   FREE! 


DC-9 


"DRUMS  OF  DESTINY"  and  "MELISSA" 

The  FICTION  BOOK  CLUB  '  Dept.  345),  1 00  Sixth  Ave.,  N.  Y.  1 3,  N.  Y. 


I  want  to  take  advantage  of 
your  gift  offer,  to  send  me  FREE 
—BOTH  "Drums  of  Destiny" 
and  "Melissa."  At  the  same 
time  enroll  me  as  a  member  of 
The  Fiction  Book  Club  which 
entitles  mo  to  receive  your 
Ix-st-nelllng  selections  at  only 
•  1.39  (plus  a  few  rents  ship- 
ping)—* laving  up  to  $i.ei  a 

hook  from  the  retail  price  of 
the  publisher's  edition.  It  is 
under  itood,  however,  that  I  do 

not  bSVfl  to  BCC«pt  every  book 
offered— I  may  accept  or  reject 
selections  as  I  please;  so  send 
me   regularly    FREE  the   Club's 


ADVANCE,  In  order  that  I  may 
choose  from  more  than  one 
hundred  books  listed  In  the 
course  of  a  year,  the  six  I  agree 
to  purchase  at  only  $1  .39  each 
(plus  Shipping)  within  the  next 
twelve  months.  Since  this  am- 
azing offer  may  be  withdrawn 
at  any  time — rush  my  free 
copies  of  "Drums  of  Destiny" 
and  "Melissa"  and  begin  Club 
services  with  that  smash-hit 
new  best-seller,  "Such  As 
We,"  for  which  I  will  deposit 
with  postman  $1.39  plus  a  few 
cents  for  C.O.D,  charges. 


NAME 


Please  (Tint    Plainly 
ADDRESS 


CITY_ 


STATE 


Zone  No.  flf  any) 


OCCUPATION 

rSllffhtlytllffhor  In  Canada.  Afldrcss20«  King  St.  West,  Toronto) 


AGE 
,(if  under  21)_ 


Membership  is  FREE  in  The  FICTION  BOOK  CLUB 

. . .  and  you  get  all  these  Money-Saving  advantages,  too! ' 


You  will  be  sent  immediately 
FREE  your  copies  of  these  2  new 
best-sellers  when  you  mail  the 
coupon.  You'll  also  become  a 
member  of  The  Fiction  Book 
Club  with  your  choice  of  the 
Club's  monthly  best-seller  selec- 
tions and  you'll  get  these  four 
big  advantages,  too: 
I.  You  save  ui>  to  $1.61  on  every 
book!  Fiction  Book  Club  contracts 
for  big  special  editions  —  prints 
from  original  plates,  and  in  return 
for  mass  distribution,  authors  ac- 
cent lower  royalties.  These  savings 
are  passed  right  on  to  you.  You 
save  up  to  $1.61  on  every  book  you 
get.  And  you  get  two  current  best- 
sellers—two books  everybody's  talk- 
ing about— FREE  as  an  introductory 
gift  when  you  join! 


2.  You  get  outstanding  new  books! 

Selections  are  made  only  after  a 
careful  study  of  current  books  from 
all  publishers.  From  these  reports 
of  toprquality  novels  ($2.75  and 
$3.50  in  the  publisher's  retail  edi- 
tion) our  editors  select  the  best 
available  books  that  are  "the  cream 
of  the  crop."  Fiction  Book  Club 
selections  are  always  outstanding 
best-Bellers  . . .  books  by  leading  au- 
thors., .brand-new.  full-size,  beau- 
tiful books  you  will  be  proud  to  own. 

3.  You  pay  no  special  dues  or  fees! 
No  trick  obligation  clauses.  You 
simply  agree  to  accept  any  six  of 
the  twelve  outstanding  books  offered 
in  a  year.  You  do  not  have  to  accept 
every  book  offered— just  those  you 
decide  you  want  after  you  have  read  a 
detailed  description  well  in  advance. 


4.  You'll  find  plan  so  simple  and 
easy!  If  you  decide  you  don't  want 
the  book  simply  notify  us  not  to 
send  it.  Otherwise  simply  do  noth- 
ing, and  it  will  be  mailed  to  you. 
For  each  monthly  selection  YOU 
decide  you  want,  S'ou  pay  just  $1.39 
plus  a  few  cents  postage. 

SO  ACT  NOW! 

Get  your  FREE  copies  of  the  two 
sensational  best-sellers  described 
above  and  get  all  the  con- 
veniences and  savings  of  free 
Fiction  Book  Club  membership! 
But  hurry— offer  is  limited!  It's 
first  come  —  first  served.  Mail 
coupon  NOW  to  The  Fiction 
Book  Club,  100  Sixth  Ave., 
New  York  13,  New  York. 


She's  Rich,  Beautiful .  .  .  and  Damned! 

Even  at  21,  Elaine  Chickering  has  lived,  loved  and  lost  more 
than  most  women  In  a  lifetime!  What's  behind  her  reckless 
pursuit  of  pleasure— and  romance?  What  Is  the  scandal  that 
causes  her  to  be  expelled  from  a  fashionable  girls'  school? 
You'll  discover  the  answers— learn  how  her  power  over  men 
crowds  her  life  with  elopement,  divorce  and  tragedy  .  .  .  how 
she  goes  from  man  to  man  In  her  frenzied  search  for  love.  "Best 
Only  $1.39  to  Club  members  novel  of  its  kind  since  Nancy  Hale's  Trodigal  Woman'." 


firsf  Selection ! 

Intimate  story  of  a 

girl's  desperate  search 

for  amorous  excitement— 

"Such  as  We" 


MAIL  COUPON   NOW!    HURRY  ...  OFFER   LIMITED! 


Mine   is   the   one   and 


My  new  nail  polish  has  so  much  beauty  to  offer 
so  many  women.     You'll  be  amazed  to  see  how 
a  polish  selling  for  100  makes  fingertips  so 

lovely.     Plasteen,  my  exclusive  ingredient,  makes 
polish  flow  on  easier  and  dry  with  a  new  jewel-like 
brilliance.     No  "bubbles"!     You'll  be  amazed. 

My  polish  has  these  ^  advantages: 


2  No  "bubbles" 


I  Plasteen  to  help 
prevent  chipping 


# 


/ 


3  New,  jewel-like 
brilliance 


HELEN   NEUSHAEFER  . . .  making  her  shade  selections  for  Fall  and 
Winter  ...  in  harmony  with  the  season's  smart  costume  colors. 


0r}' 


4  Last  word  in 
"high-style"  shades 


«* 


5  Finer,  more  -pliable 
brush  gives 
neater  outlines 


NEWEST  OF  LIPSTICKS... 

You'll  like  the  smooth-creamy 
feel,  the  true-to-tone  colors, 
the  way  this  new  lipstick 
of  mine  stays  on  and  on!    j  (~\A 


NAIL      POLISH 

Neil  Rose  ...  a  featured  Fall  shade 
. . .  See  all  I  2  new  fashion  tones  of  rose  and 
red —  all  with  Plasteen  —  at  most  5  and 
I o's  and  drug  stores.  _ 

10* 

A.  Sartorius  &  Co.,  Inc.  •  College  Point,  N.  Y. 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AND  TELEVISION 


Janette  Davis 


ome  on  _  swpob 


the  Big  Moment's  waiting! 
Got  to  get  the  table  set 
with  that  new  chestful  of 
million-dollar  silverware  !" 

Know  why  it  looks  like  a 
million?  Because  it  bears 
those  two  silverwise  old 
names — 1881  Cj|?  Rogers  Cg? 
and  Oneida.  Naturally, 
the  pattern's  these  artists 
in  silver  turn  out  have 
authority,  grace,  style. 
And  don't  be  afraid  your 
1881  (§g   Rogers  <j|  will  wear 
out — your  set's  wear-areas 
are  heavily  reinforced  with 
solid  silver.  So,  set  the 
table  you've  dreamed  of, 
three  times  a  day!  Constant 
use  just  makes  this  silver- 
ware lovelier!  Choose  your 
pattern,  and  an  easy-payment 
plan  today.  5-piece  place 
setting,  $4.50.  Complete 
services  for  8  start  at 
$39.75.  No  federal  tax. 


1551 

2$ 'ROGERS  © 


•&£ 


««£- 


Tim  and  Tina,  just  found  out  their  new  silverware  has  arrived'    I 

i 


SILVERPLATE 


6y 


.Tor  young  people 


who  take  pride  in  living  nicely 


Pattern  shown  is  the  new  Plantation*   '..  *Tjrada'  Mark.   copyright,  1948,  Oneida,  Ltd 


Keeptfcur  hand?  evening-soft  all  chu  l/ong'-k 


~~Jhis>  fabulous  lotion  i?  double-beautii  magic 


h 


ere 


**. 


,M'A 


as  well a$  here...  % 


t  tard-at-work  and  "on  display,"  your 
-*-  -*•  hands  lead  a  double  life.  So — pamper 
them  with  the  double-beauty  magic  of 
Trushay. 

Trushay,  you  see,  is  first  of  all  a  velvet- 
soft  lotion — with  a  wondrous  touch  you've 
never  known  before.  A  luxury  lotion  for 


all  your  lotion  needs — a  joy  to  use  any 
time.  Every  fragrant,  peach-colored  drop 
is  so  rich,  your  hands  feel  softer  and 
smoother  instantly! 

Yet .  .  .  Trushay's  magic  doesn't  stop 
there.  It  also  brings  to  you  a  fabulous 
"beforehand"  extra! 


Smoothed  on  your  hands  before  doing 
dishes  or  light  laundry,  Trushay  protects 
them  even  in  hot,  soapy  water.  Guards 
them  from  drying  damage.  So  your  hands 
stay  evening-soft  all  day  long! 

Adopt  Trushay's  double-beauty  help — 
begin  today  to  use  Trushay! 


TRUSHAY 


A  PRODUCT  OF   BRISTOL-MYERS 


the  lotion  with  the  "beforehand" extra 


OCTOBER.    1948 


VOL.  30,  NO.  5 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AXI>  TELEVISION 


KEYSTONE 


"Colgate  Denial  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — ■ 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely'" 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Alwayt  ore 
COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 
offer  you  eof  and  hefore 
every  date 


Radio  Mirror  Second  Annual  Awards 23 

Remember  the  Silver-Masked  Tenor? by  Dwight  Weist  24 

That  Man  Named  Moore by  Howard  Sharpe  26 

It  Happened  on  Hint  Hunt by  Marjorie  Copperthite  28 

Come  and  Visit  Irene  Beasley by  Llewellyn  Miller  30 

Box   13 — a   Picture-Story 34 

Memo  to  County  Limerick by  Christopher  Lynch  38 

Take  Me  Out  to  the  Ball  Game!— In  Pictures 40 

Traveler  of  the  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  44 

Bride  and  Groom  Who  Were  Right  for  Each  Other by  John  Nelson  52 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful — Through  the  Years  in  Pictures 54 

Radio  Mirror  Quiz by  Bill  Cullen  3 

Facing  the  Music by  Duke  Ellington  10 

Harry   Wightman 12 

Collector's   Corner by   Thelonious    Monk  13 

What's  New  from  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Look  At  the  Records by  Joe  Martin  18 

Inside  Radio   64 

It's  Here ! 67 

Information   Booth .    ..  HO 

Slim  Schedule by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  6 

Between  the  Bookends by  Ted  Malone  42 

Food  and  Frolic by  Kate  Smith  62 

Hobbies  Help by  Terry  Burton  68 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 82 


Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 46 

Leave  It  to  the  Girls 48 


WMCA:   Symphony     Sid 4 

WFIL:   Every  woman's  Anice   Ives 8 

KDKA :  Network   Voice,   Hometown   Complex 16 

WBEN:  He  Looks  Like  A  Musician 20 

WJR:  Reporter    At    Large 50 


RADIO  MIRROR  READER  BONUS 


The  Life  of  Arthur  Godfrey — Novelette by  Ira  Knaster    58 

ON    THE    COVER:     Arthur    Godfrey,    Janette     Davis    and    Tony     Marvin; 
color   portraits   by    Ozzie   Sweet 


Editorial  Director 
FRED  It.   SAMMIS 

Managing  Editor 
EVELYN  L.  FIORE 


Editor 
DORIS    McFEKRAN 


Art  Director 
JACK   ZASORIN 

Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES  MALT 


Television  Research 

JOAN  MURPHY  LLOYD  TERU  GOTO 

Chicago   Office:   Editor.   HELEN  CAMBRIA    BOLSTAD 

Hollywood  Office:  Editor,   ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor.    FRANCES  MORRIN 


Staff  Photographers.   HYMIE  FINK,  STERLING  SMITH: 


Assistant.  BETTY  JO  RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  Dy  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS,  INC.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Advertising  Offices,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Hollywood— Beverly 
Hlllfl  Office:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills,  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice 
President;  Herhert  Drake,  vice  President;  Joseph  Schultz,  Vice  President;  S.  O.  Shapiro,  Vice  President;  Ernest  V. 
Hevn,  Vice  President;  Meyer  Dworkln,  Secretary  and  Treasurer;  Edward  F.  Lethen,  Advertising  Director.  Chicago 
Office:  22-1  North  La  Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gage,  Mgr.  San  Francisco  office:  1613  Russ  Building.  Joseph  M.  Dooher. 
Mil.  Los  Angeles  OnVc:  Sulle  1108,  649  Soulh  Olive  SI..  George  Weailierl.y,  MET.  Charles  O.  Terwillfger,  Jr.,  East- 
ern Advertising  Manager,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Reentered  as  Second  Class  matter  March  1,  1948, 
at  the  Post  office  at  New  York,  N.  Y.  under  the  Act  of  March  3.  1879.  Subscription  rates:  U.  S.  and  Possessions, 
Canada  and  Newfoundland,  82.50  per  year.  All  other  countries  $5.00  per  year.  Price  per  copy:  25c  In  the  United 
States  ond  Canada.  While  Manuscripts,  Photographs  and  Drawings  are  submitted  at  the  owner's  risk,  every  eflTort 
will  be  made  to  return  those  found  unavailable  if  accompanied  by  sufficient  first  class  postage  and  explicit  name  and 
address.  Contributors  are  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions;  otherwise  they 
are  taking  unnecesaarv  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  In  part  without 

OGrm  (Member  of  Macfadden  Women's  Croup) 

Copyright,   194B,  by  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.  All  rights  reserved  under  International  Copyright  Convention.  All 
rights  reserved   under  Pan-American  Copyright  Convention.      Todos  derechoa  reservados  Begun   La   Convenclon  Pan. 
anierlcana  de  Prnoledad  Llterarla  y  Artistica.  Title  trademark  registered  In  U.  S.  Patent  Office. 
Printed  In  U.   S.  A.  by  Art  Color  Printing  Co..  Dunellen.   N.   T. 


RADIO  MIRROR  QUIZ 


Bill   Cullen,   Guest 
,   Quizmaster,  is  M.C.  of 

Winner   Take   All 

Mondays  Through  Fridays, 

5:30  P.M.,  EST 

and    Hit    the    Jackpot, 

Tuesday,  9:30  P.  M.,  EST, 

on    CBS 


1.  Favorite  friend  of 
Charlie  McCarthy.Who 
is  she? 


2.  Judy  Canova  started 
out  to  be  (a)  an  opera 
singer  (b)  a  ventrilo- 
quist (c)  a  model. 


3.  Jack  Benny  was 
born  in  (a)  Waukegan 
(b)  St.  Joe  (c)  Chicago. 


4.  What  famous  radio 
singing  star  started  his 
career  as  a  cantor? 


5.  Walter  Winchell 
was  once  (a)  a  printer 
(b)  singing  usher  (c) 
criminal  investigator. 


iSlJ 


MY  FAVORITE  QUIZ  QUESTIONS: 

(a)  Who  was  William   Shakespeare's  wife? 

(b)  Which  travels  faster — a  bullet  or  sound? 

ANSWERS: 

puooas  d  |8aj  QOZ'Z  +n°SD  sso6  ||  -+3||nq  y    (q) 

Admdl|^d|_|    uuy    (d) 

jsijsn  6ui6u;s   '3 

uos|or  |v  > 

0&D3JIO    •£ 

jabuis   Djsdo   uy   '3 

UOpJO0   o+iuy   '| 


X  WW  Sit  out 


ik 


I'm  a  safety-first  giri  with  Mum 


As  a  skating  partner,  Beautiful— you  keep  the  boys 
going  around  in  circles . . .  around  you.  And  with  Mum 
for  protection  against  underarm  odor,  you'll  stay  nice 
to  be  near. 

So  never  trust  your  charm  to  anything  but  dependable 
Mum.  Remember,  your  bath  only  washes  away  past 
perspiration— but  Mum  prevents  risk  of  future  under- 
arm odor.  Get  Mum  today! 


Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


Mum 
Mum 
Mum 


safer  for  charm 


safer  for  skin 


safer  for  clothes 


Mum  checks  perspiration  odor,  protects 
your  daintiness  all  day  or  all  evening. 

Because  Mum  contains  no  harsh  or  irri- 
tating ingredients.  Snow-white  Mum  is 
gentle— harmless  to  skin. 

No  damaging  ingredients  in  Mum  to  rot 
or  discolor  fine  fabrics.  Economical  Mum 
doesn't  dry  out  in  the  jar.  Quick,  easy  to 
use,  even  after  you're  dressed. 


Platoons  of  be-bop  fans  drop  in  regularly  at  WMCA  studios  to  visit  Sid's  all-night,  all-frantic  show. 


Sid  defines  the  "new  sounds  in 
music  "as  "ultimate  modern  jazz." 


IT'S  A  LONG  WAY  from  Stravinsky  to  be- 
bop— or  is  it? 
"Not  if  you're  real  gone,"  says  Symphony 
Sid  (Sid  Torin),  that  wonderful,  wonderful  hep 
character  whose  new  WMCA  all-night,  all- 
frantic  show  is  the  most  serious  threat  to  sleep 
since  the  discovery  of  insomnia. 

Technically  speaking,  be-bop  has  been  de- 
scribed as  often-dissonant,  staccato  music  which 
seldom  follows  a  formal  pattern.  In  other 
words,  be-boppers  aren't  concerned  with  play- 
ing it  "straight."  And  Stravinsky,  a  real  "gone" 
composer  to  the  followers  of  the  latest  rhythm 
rage,   hates   musical   regimentation   too. 

Equipped  with  a  battery  of  twelve  telephones 
requiring  two  extra  all-night  operators,  Sid 
handles  an  average  of  2000  requests  for  records 
each  night  on  his  Midnight  to  Dawn  patrol. 

"We're  peddling  modern  jazz,"  explains  Sym- 
phony Sid,  "not  that  synthetic  commercial  stuff." 
He  means  the  music  of  Thelonious  Monk  (some- 
times called  the  father  of  be-bop),  the  "won- 
derful" Dizzy  Gillespie,  Tad  Dameron,  Sarah 
Vaughan  and  Illinois  Jacquet,  the  great  jazz- 


man who  recently  composed  a  "real  gone  side" 
called  "Symphony  In  Sid." 

Sid,  a  handsome  New  Yorker,  has  been  in 
radio  for  more  than  thirteen  years  although 
he's  still  in  his  early  thirties.  Born  and  brought 
up  on  New  York's  East  Side,  he  became  a  sales- 
man in  record  shops  after  graduating  from 
Thomas  Jefferson  High  School. 

Soon  he  owned  his  own  record  shop  on  42nd 
Street.  He  called  his  place  the  Symphony  Shop, 
and  one  of  his  best  customers  was  Station 
WBNX  in  the  Bronx.  One  day  the  general 
manager  offered  Torin  a  fifteen-minute  spot 
for  a  recorded  jazz  session.  Two  weeks  later 
Sid  sold  the  record  shop. 

After  three  and  a  half  years  on  WBNX,  Sid 
moved  to  WHOM  in  Jersey  City  where  he 
gained  thousands  of  rabid  followers  in  a  decade 
of  broadcasting.  Now  he's  in  the  "big  time" 
with  his  all-night  stint  on  America's  leading 
independent  station. 

In  addition  to  his  radio  activities,  Symphony 
Sid  is  m.c.  at  the  Royal  Roost,  Broadway's 
"Bop-era"  House. 


Never  Again! 


THIS  IS  HER  FIRST  DATE  with  him  .  .  .  and  it  will  be  her 
last.  When  the  picture  is  over  he  is  going  to  hustle 
her  home  faster  than  jet  propulsion.  And  she  won't 
know  why*! 

BEFORE  ANY  DATE  where  you  want  to  be  at  your  best, 
isn't  it  just  plain  common  sense  to  be  extra  careful 
about  your  breath?  You,  yourself,  may  not  realize 
when  it  is  off-color. 

AFTER  ALL,  THERE  IS  NOTHING  that  puts  romance  on  the 
run  like  a  case  of  halitosis*  (unpleasant  breath). 
Why  run  such  a  risk  when  Listerine  Antiseptic  pro- 
vides such  a  delightful,  extra  precaution? 

SIMPLY  RINSE  THE  MOUTH  with  Listerine  Antiseptic,  and, 
lo,  your  breath  is   sweeter,   fresher,  less  likely  to 


offend;  keeps  it  that  way,  too  .  .  .  not  for  minutes 
but  for  hours! 

SMART  PEOPLE,  popular  people  never,  never  omit 
Listerine  Antiseptic.  It's  an  extra  careful  precaution 
that-  often  spells  the  difference  between  popularity 
and  oblivion. 

WHILE  SOME  CASES  of  halitosis  are  of  systemic  origin, 
most  cases,  say  some  authorities,  are  due  to  the 
bacterial  fermentation  of  tiny  food  particles  clinging 
to  mouth  surfaces.  Listerine  Antiseptic  halts  such 
fermentation,  then  overcomes  the  odors  fermenta- 
tion causes.  Use  it  night  and  morning  and  before 
any  date,  business  or  social. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 


BEFORE  ANT  DATE    LISTERINE    ANTISEPTIC 


FOR    ORAL    HYGIENE 


P.S.   IT'S  NEW!    Have  you  tried  Listerine  TOOTH  PASTE,  the  MINTY  3-way  prescription  for  your  teeth? 


,99 


Yon  can 
.say  "yes 

to  Romance 


Veto  says  "no" 
to  Offending! 

Veto   lay*   "now-to   perspiration 

worry  and  odor!  Soft  as  a  caress  .  .  . 
exciting,  new,  Veto  is  Colgate's  wonderful 
cosmetic  deodorant.  Always  creamy  and 
smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you 
lovely  all  day!  Veto  stops  underarm  odor 
instantly,  checks  perspiration  effectively. 

Veto  nii.vn  "no"—  to  harming  Hkln 

and  iIoiIicn!  So  effective  ...  yet  so 
gentle — Colgate's  Veto  is  harmless  to  nor- 
mal skin.  Harmless,  too,  even  to  filmy, 
most  fragile  fabrics.  For  Veto  alone  con- 
tains Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredi- 
ent to  make  Veto  safer.  No  other  deodorant 
can  be  like  Veto! 

TRUST  ALWAYS  TO  VETO 

MP  YOU  VAJLUJB  YOUR  t  II  Ait  HI  I 


SCHEDULE 


By  Mary  Jane  Fulton 


Tc>nec6e  a  AcAedme  wibetu,  abjpo  C/taMo^d  did, 


ONE  who  knows  how  difficult  it  is  to 
carry  a  reducing  plan  through  to 
a  successful  finish  is  Jo  Stafford, 
lovely  feminine  singing  star  of  NBC's 
Supper  Club  program.  She  stands  5'  7" 
tall  in  her  stocking  feet.  A  couple  of 
years  ago  she  weighed  180  pounds.  Now 
she  tips  the  scales  at  a  neat  143  pounds. 

Her  incentive  for  losing  weight  was 
necessity.  In  spite  of  her  lovely  con- 
tralto voice,  every  time  she  sang  before 
an  audience  she  felt  self-conscious 
about  her  appearance.  Psychologically 
Jo  says,  this  wasn't  good  for  her,  any 
more  than  it  would  be  for  you  when  at- 
tention is  directed  your  way.  For  in- 
stead of  thinking  about  how  she  looked, 
she  should  have  been  giving  all  her  at- 
tention to  her  singing.  So  she  went  to 
her  doctor. 

In  six  months,  by  following  his  in- 
structions, she  acquired  a  lovely  figure. 
Now,  she  is  happy  to  say,  she  receives 
a  real  ovation,  and  an  occasional  whistle 
when  she  appears  on  stage,  instead  of 
the  former  polite  applause. 

After  giving  her  a  complete  physical 
examination,  Jo's  doctor  put  her  on  a 
high  protein  diet.  This  meant  cutting 
down  on  sweets,  starches  and  fats,  and 
eating  more  meat,  eggs,  fish,  fresh  vege- 
tables and  fruits.  She  had  been  used 
to  eating  two  meals  a  day,  and  any  foods 
she  wanted.  When  on  the  diet,  she  had 
to  eat  three  meals  daily.  But  they  were 
the  right  foods  to  take  off  weight  and 
keep  her  healthy.  Because  of  an  out- 
right dislike  for  them,  she  asked  her 


doctor  not  to  insist  that  she  also  do  ex- 
ercises. Jo  told  him  she  preferred  to 
get  her  exercise  by  walking,  swimming, 
and  playing  badminton.  Usually,  you 
know,  some  form  of  exercise  is  required, 
along  with  dieting,  so  that  the  muscles 
don't  become  flabby.  And  as  Jo  was 
getting  hers  in  her  own  way,  this  was, 
apparently,  all  right  with  her  wise 
doctor. 

Before  you  decide  to  reduce,  have 
your  physician  give  you  a  thorough  ex- 
amination. He  will  then  prescribe  for 
you,  just  as  Jo's  doctor  did  for  her. 
There  are  other  ways  to  reduce.  You 
can  enroll  in  a  salon  course.  A  good 
home  course  by  mail  outlines  a  diet, 
pictures  suggestions  for  fixing  tempting 
dishes  within  diet  requirements.  And 
there  are  good  books  telling  how  to 
whittle  off  inches  here  and  there.  If 
you'd  like  to  reduce  by  one  of  these 
methods,  confide  your  wish  to  your 
physician. 

Jo  points  out  that  eating  is  just  a 
habit.  She  has  always  been  a  great 
bread  eater.  Rich  foods  tasted  good  to 
her,  and  she  indulged  in  them  more 
than  she  should.  Now  she's  formed  the 
new  habit  of  not  wanting  .them,  except 
occasionally.  It  was  just~as  hard  for 
her  to  make  up  her  mind  to  stick  to 
her  dieting,  as  it  would  be  for  you.  But, 
once  you  do  make  up  your  mind,  you've 
acquired  a  willpower  that  will  win  out 
over  temptation.  You'll  find  that  you 
enjoy  being  a  martyr  for  a  very  good 
cause — yourself! 


RADIO     MIRROR     for     RETTER     LIVING 


THE  WINNER! 

bringing  a  New  Kind  of 
Beauty  to  your  skin 


WOODBURY 
POWDER! 


"More  warmth,  more  life 

in  Woodbury  shades!" 

—vows  Jeni  Freeland  of 

Knoxville,  Term.,  in  praise  of 

New  Woodbury  Powder. 





"Smoothest  look  my  skin 
has  ever  known!"  says 
Leona  Fredricks  of 
Miami  Beach,  Florida. 


voted  ^iaVOtite  l#*  ^oodb^.        a 
^eVtO^J     eie.tedj  oj4to 

4  out  o«  &V      Qtl  atv* ^       ^det. 
vet  a\Uead*?6  €nWoo<*ttfy     -  *< 


0vevaUV  ^e«)W0;^    see  *or 

Sa      Jorv'    ^  «7i0^y  •  '        1/fi  fa*5* 

vo^1;S^me  y 

\tfoodW    , 
pceV°»deU 


"I  never  used  to  wear  powder- 
hate  that  'made-up'  look.  But  Woodbury 
gives  skin  a  glow  that's  super!"  writes 
Kay  Crystal  of  Pelham  Manor,  N.  Y. 


TWICE  NEW! 

New  Secret  Ingredient  gives  a 
smooth-as-satin  finish  to  your  skin! 

New  Revolutionary  Process! 

Woodbury  "Super-Blender"  gives  warmest, 

liveliest  colors,  finest-ever  texture. 

6  exciting  shades — Get  New  Woodbury 
Powder  — in  the  new  "Venus"  box  — at  any 
cosmetic  counter.  Large  size  $1.00.  Medium  and 
"Purse"  sizes  30?  and  15<  (plus  tax) 


Anice  Ives'  annual  luncheons  attract  thousands  of  women;  her  radio  club  numbers  over  40,000  members. 


One  of  her  first 
acts  was  to  take 
the  program  from 
kitchen  to  parlor. 


LIKE  SO  many  others  in  the  field,  Anice  Ives — who's 
been  on  the  air  for  seventeen  years — got  her  radio 
start  by  accident  rather  than  design.  Her  successful 
record  over  almost  two  decades  of  broadcasting  proves 
that  the  WFIL  star  has  made  the  most  of  the  opportunity! 

The  dean  of  Philadelphia  women  commentators  was 
born  in  upstate  New  York.  She  became  a  Philadelphian 
when  she  married  Louis  Ancker,  one  of  the  legitimate 
theater's  busiest  and  most  capable  people.  Miss  Ives 
joined  her  husband  in  a  swing  of  the  nation's  theaters, 
acting  in  the  stock  companies  managed  by  him. 

In  1931,  the  Anckers  returned  to  Philadelphia,  where 
Mr.  Ancker  became  program  director  and  special  an- 
nouncer for  a  Quaker  City  radio  station.  When  that 
station's  home  economist  suddenly  was  taken  ill,  Miss 
Ives  drew  the  assignment  of  replacing  her. 

Aside  from  having  done  one  dramatic  bit  opposite  her 
husband,  Miss  Ives  had  had  no  previous  radio  experi- 
ence. She  did  have  one  thing,  however — the  successful 
broadcaster's  stock  in  trade,  a  truly  beautiful  speaking 
voice.  With  her  theatrical  background  and  that  soft, 
intimate  voice,  the  result  of  the  experiment  was  a  fore- 
gone conclusion.  Miss  Ives  was  in  radio  to  stay.  The 
Ives  radio  story  since  then  has  been  a  saga  of  success. 

One  of  her  first  acts  in  her  role  as  substitute  home 
economist — a  job  that  became  permanent — was  to  take 
the  program  out  of  the  kitchen  and  put  it  in  the  living 
room.  As  she  explains  it,  "People  need  food  for  their 
souls  as  much  as  they  need  food  for  their  stomachs." 
She  began  to  read  poems  on  the  show  and  to  chat  in- 
formally about  things  of  interest  to  women.  She  soft- 
pedalled  home  economics  and  placed  the  accent  on  social 
affairs.  In  her  first  year  of  broadcasting,  she  formed  her 
Everywoman's  Hour — the  first  "social  club  of  the  air" 
in  radio,  and  a  program  that  has  proved  to  be  a  very 


New  York  newspapers  credit  her  as  "one  of  the  few  women 
who  have  advanced  the  art  of  announcing  for  their  sex." 


popular  feature  with  Philadelphia  women  ever  since. 

Miss  Ives  gained  national  recognition  when  she  was 
selected  by  a  manufacturer  of  soaps  and  cosmetics  to  do 
all  their  commercials  and  to  act  as  beauty  consultant  on 
the  firm's  radio  programs.  For  seven  years  she  handled 
that  phase  of  the  sponsor's  programs,  appearing  with 
Paul  Whiteman,  Shep  Fields  and  other  stars  on  coast-to- 
coast  broadcasts,  commuting  between  New  York  and 
Philadelphia,  where  she  still  broadcast  her  own  local 
program.  New  York  newspapers  immediately  recognized 
her  talent,  calling  her  voice  "one  of  the  five  best  feminine 
voices  on  the  air"  and  crediting  her  as  "one  of  the  few 
women  who  have  advanced  the  art  of  announcing  and 
commenting  for  their  sex." 

Currently,  Miss  Ives  broadcasts  her  Everywoman's 
Hour  on  station  WFIL,  Philadelphia,  five  afternoons  a 
week.  She  is  now  in  her  eighth  year  of  broadcasting  for 
the  station.  Officer  or  member  of  eleven  different  wom- 
en's clubs,  she  heads  her  own  radio  club  which  numbers 
well  over  40,000  registered  members.  Her  annual  lunch- 
eons attract  thousands  of  Philadelphia  women. 

Busy  as  she  is,  Miss  Ives  still  finds  time  to  pursue  her 
chief  avocation — helping  underprivileged  children.  She 
has  received  numerous  citations  for  her  work  in  promot- 
ing various  endeavors  dedicated  to  helping  unfortunate 
children  in  this  country  and  abroad. 


the  spotlight 


is  on  the 


and 


tfiotm/. 


specially  designed  gift  watches  .  .  .  49.75  up  .  .  . 
inspired  by  the  "Bride  and  Groom"  Radio  Program 

They'll  dance  at  their  wedding,  and  the  spotlight  will  shine  brightly 
on  them!  This  is  their  happiest  hour — their  hour  to  remember! 
To  help  you  honor  the  wedding  couple  in  your  family  or 
circle  of  friends,  Gruen  presents  the  specially-designed  "Bride" 
and  the  "Groom,"  two  handsome  gift  watches,  priced  from 
$49.75  up.  Gruen,  America's  Choice  since  1  874.  Official 
timepiece  of  Pan  American  World  Airways.  The  Gruen  Watch 
Company,  Time  Hill,  Cincinnati  6,  Ohio.  In  Canada:  Toronto,  Ont. 
For  cherished  gifts,  consult  your  dealer. 


the  ^/fteajttm  watch 


Tune  in  on  the  "Bride  and  Groom"  Radio  Program 
broadcast  over  the  ABC  Network — Monday  thru  Friday. 


By 

DUKE  ELLINGTON 


Disc-jockey    Ellington    of    WESX,    Salem,    Mass., 
KING,  Seattle,  Wash.,  and  WBNY,  Buffalo,  N.  Y. 


Jo    Stafford's    first   N.   Y.   broadcast   in 


His   plane's   fine   points   are   demonstrated   to 
Tony  Lane  by  licensed  pilot  Vaughn  Monroe. 


Buddy  Chirk  dropped  in  for  a  chat  when  Guy 
Loinluirdo  opened  at  N.  Y.'s  Hotel  Roosevelt. 


10 


WHEN  Sarah  Vaughan  embarks  upon  her  nationwide 
concert  tour  during  the  Fall,  her  itinerary  will  in- 
clude a  date  in  Mexico  City  for  which  she'll  receive 
a  minimum  of  $2000  plus  a  percentage  of  the  total  re- 
ceipts during  her  appearance.  That,  to  me,  seems  to  be 
as  good  a  reason  as  I've  ever  heard  for  keeping  up  with 
your  vocal  lessons. 


In  answer  to  the  many  requests  from  his  fans,  Rex 
Stewart,  who  used  to  play  quite  a  bit  of  trumpet  in  my 
own  band,  is  now  playing  U.  S.  Army  Service  Clubs  in 
Germany. 


Handsome  young  Gordon  MacRae  seems  destined  for 
top  honors  in  all  fields  of  the  entertainment  business. 
His  first  movie  for  Warner  Bros.,  "The  Big  Punch,"  has 
received  lavish  praise  from  all  the  critics.  And  he  sings, 
too! 


Just  about  this  time  ten  years  ago,  constant  radio 
listening  would  have  bombarded  your  ears  with  a  song 
called  "Joseph  Joseph."     Remember? 


U01C/ 


Victor  Young,  pianist  Harry  Sukman,  singer  Gordon  MacRae,  all  of  ABC 
Texaco  Star  Theatre,  run  over  some  tunes  from  Young's  newest  album. 


Looking  for  Ella  Mae  Morse? 
Try  Guam,  in  the  South  Pacific. 


two  years — Dick  Haymes  was  her  guest. 


Sarah  Vaughan  has  a  $2000-plus- 
percentage  date  in  Mexico  City! 


When  Sammy  Kaye  was  presented  with  an  honorary 
membership  in  Sigma  Nu  recently,  it  marked  the  four- 
teenth college  fraternity  he  has  joined.  In  addition 
to  Theta  Chi,  to  which  he  belonged  at  Ohio  State  Uni- 
versity, Sammy  is  now  an  honorary  member  in  thirteen 
other  similar  organizations.  Who  said  that  being  a 
bandleader  is  easy  living?  Think  of  all  those  initiation 
ceremonies. 


Ella  Mae  Morse,  the  songstress  famous  as  the  "Cow- 
Cow  Boogie"  gal,  is  now  on  Guam  in  the  far  reaches  of 
the  South  Pacific,  where  her  husband,  a  Navy  medical 
officer  is  on  active  duty.  Needless  to  say,  Ella  Mae's 
musical  career  has  come  to  a  temporary  halt — at  least 
we  hope  it's  temporary. 


graphical  errors,  especially  those  in  local  papers  which 
he  reads  while  touring.  One  of  his  favorites  was  a 
social-events  report  which  ended,  "The  evening  was 
spent  in  an  infernal  (read  informal)  way,  a  television 
program  being  the  main  diversion." 


Bing  Crosby's  experiment  can  be  credited  for  this.  Der 
Bingle  proved  that  recording  with  Scotch  sound  record- 
ing tape  provides  the  highest  fidelity.  Now  Capitol 
Records  is  going  to  experiment  with  it,  too,  reasoning 
that  it  will  allow  backlog  recordings  on  tape,  eliminating 
storage  space  for  masters;  the  tape  can  be  kept  without 
danger  of  injuring  recorded  matter  or  its  fidelity;  it  will 
cut  down  on  the  difficulty  of  editing  and  patchwork;  and 
it  will  save  the  loss  of  throwing  away  bad  recordings, 
since  tape  can  be  erased  and  used  over  again. 


There's  only  one  non-musical  member  of  Guy  Lom- 
bardo's  family.  It's  Joseph,  who's  an  interior  decorator. 
Practical,  too — every  year  he  drags  in  the  green  stuff 
by  doing  over-  the  homes  of  his  brothers,  sisters  and 
parents! 


Another   Vaughn  Monroe   hobby   is  collecting   typo- 


Barry  Wood  is  giving  up  all  his  radio  assignments, 
except  The  Barry  Wood  Show,  transcribed  series  he  does 
with  Margaret  Whiting,  to  join  CBS  Television  as  a  pro- 
ducer-director-performer. His  first  job  is  to  build  a 
musical  talent  series  for  video.  Barry  is  quite  a  fellow, 
ready  to  take  on  all  kinds  of  jobs — master  of  ceremonies, 
baritone,  saxophonist,  recording  artist  and  even  small 
town  judge. 


11 


\'A 


Richard  Hudnut  Home  Permanent 


Tills  Neiv  Home  Wave  Keeps  Your  New  Short  Haircut  Salon-Sleek! 


Give  your  smart  new  short  coiffure 
just  enough  wave  for  body... just 
enough  curl  on  the  ends  to  keep  it  a 
sleek,  close  cap... with  the  new,  im- 
proved RICHARD  HUDNUT  HOME  PER- 
MANENT. Right  at  home... as  easily 
as  you  put  your  hair  up  in  curlers 
...you  can  give  yourself  this  soft, 
salon-type  permanent.  You  use  the 
same  type  of  preparations  and  the 
same  improved  cold  wave  process 
used  in  the  Richard  Hudnut  Fifth 


Avenue  Salon  for  expensive  perma- 
nents.  Save  money  and  tedious  hours 
at  the  hairdresser. ..try  this  glorious 
home  wave  today!  Price  $2.75;  refill 
without  rods,  $1.50  (all  prices  plus 
30<*  Federal  Tax). 


Saves  up  to  one-half 
usual  waving  time. 

One-third  more  waving 
lotion ...  more  penetrating, 
but  gentle  on  hairl 

Longer,  stronger  end-papers 
make  hair  tips  easier  to  handle. 

Double-strength  neutralizer 
anchors  wave  faster,  makes 
curl  stronger  for  longer. 

Improved  technique  gives 
deep,  soft  crown  wave... 
non-frizzy  ends. 

Only  home  permanent  kit 
to  include  reconditioning 
creme  rinse. 


*#    V  Two  lengths  of  rods.  Standard 
w       size  for  ringlet  ends;  extra- 
long  for  deep  crown  waves. 


FACING  THE   MUSIC 


Jl 


arri 


¥ 


Ian  t man 


ABC's  Music  Librarian 
oversees  21,000   discs. 


THERE  is  one  man  in  the  ABC  net- 
work who  almost  wishes  that  the 
Stop  The  Music  program  had  never 
gotten  in  front  of  a  microphone.  Noth- 
ing disrespectful  in  that  thought,  mind 
you;  but  keeping  track  of  a  library  of 
over  21,000  records,  200  record  labels, 
an  uncounted  number  of  musical  manu- 
scripts and  two  small  sons  is  job 
enough  for  any  one.  The  hundreds  of 
requests  coming  in  each  day  for  the 
names  of  the  various  mystery  tunes  is 
getting  close  to  the  bone  for  Harry  F. 
Wightman,   Music  Librarian  for  ABC. 

What  makes  a  music  librarian?  Har- 
ry Wightman  attended  Bucknell  Uni- 
versity and  studied  business  admin- 
istration, but  all  his  extra-curricular 
activities  centered  around  music.  He 
played  a  trumpet  for  about  eight  years 
and  French  horn  for  four  years.  After 
graduation  he  got  the  radio  "bug"  and 
took  a  job  as  a  page  boy  at  NBC.  Seven 
months  later  he  was  assigned  to  duties 
in  the  music  library.  In  1939,  Harry 
received  a  call  to  organize  and  set  up 
the  library  for  ABC. 

What  does  a  librarian  do?  The  best 
answer  is  to  quote  Harry: 

"Not  very  long  ago  in  the  ABC  Music 
Library,  the  phone  rang  and  a  distant 
female  voice  asked  how  many  sympho- 
nies Haydn  had  composed.  At  the  same 
time  there  was  a  man  standing  at  our 
counter  asking  for  a  honky-tonk  back- 
ground for  a  mystery  program;  an- 
other wanted  the  accompaniment  for 
an  aria,  while  on  the  way  to  a  studio 
were  3,695  orchestral  parts  for  just  one 
rehearsal  for  one  single  program.  There 
were  music  to  file,  records  to  catalogue, 
a  part  misplaced,  the  second  page  of 
the  bassoon  score  torn,  returned  rec- 
ords for  filing  and  the  inevitable  ques- 
tion, 'What's  The  Mystery  Tune?'  " 

Listening  to  every  record  issued  by 
every  company  has  spoiled  Harry 
Wightman  for  many  types  of  songs, 
artists  and  orchestras;  but  his  favorites 
are  still  the  classical  composers.  His 
personal  record  collection  consists  of 
over  500  discs,  all  either  symphonic  or 
collectors'  items  in  any  classification. 
But  his  tastes  do  not  control  the  tastes 
of  his  two  boys.  Three-year-old  Steve 
can  sing  "I'm  Looking  Over  A  Four 
Leaf  Clover"  in  perfect  tune,  while 
five-year-old  Jimmy  is  undecided 
between  Shostakovitch's  Fifth  or  Strav- 
insky's  Petrouchka. 


(collectors  (d 


orner 


BY  THELONIOUS  MONK 

(This  month's  guest  collector,  The- 
lonious  Monk,  is  certainly  the  most 
controversial  personality  to  have  come 
upon  the  musical  scene  in  the  last 
decade.  Credited  by  most  critics  as  the 
man  who  started  the  new  style  of  music 
known  as  "be-bop,"  Thelonious  Monk 
has  been  both  praised  and  pilloried  as 
the  "Genius  of  Bop."  No  one,  however, 
has  been  able  to  deny  that  "be-bop"  is 
making  a  tremendous  contribution  to 
modern  music.) 

THESE  days  any  sincere  devotee  of 
jazz  can  hardly  call  his  record  col- 
lection well-rounded  if  he  has  over- 
looked the  most  recent  and  radical 
form  of  "modern  progressive  music" 
which  has  come  to  be  known  as  "be- 
bop." 

Not  new  to  musicians,  "be-bop"  has 
taken  nine  years  to  get  any  attention 
of  the  general  public.  It  all  seems  to 
have  started  back  in  1939  when  some  of 
the  local  musicians  were  playing  with 
me  at  Minton's  Playhouse  in  New  York. 
We  unconsciously  created  a  new  form 
and  style  which  seems  to  have  influ- 
enced every  progressive  band  and 
group  in  the  country  today.  Chiefly 
through  records,  Dizzy  Gillespie  and 
Charlie  Parker  were  instrumental  in 
bringing  this  new  music  to  the  public. 
More  recently,  even  Claude  Thornhill's 
fine  dance  band  recorded  an  excellent 
version  of  "Anthropology"  for  Colum- 
bia. 

Fine  examples  of  the  Gillespie  groups 
can  be  heard  on  his  recordings  of  "I 
Can't  Get  Started,"  "Groovin'  High," 
and  "Hot  House."  Charlie  Parker  shines 
on  such  platters  as  "Yardbird  Suite," 
"Bird  Lore"  and  "Billie  Bounce." 

The  "be-bop"  influence  soon  spread 
to  the  vocalists,  too.  Look  for  record- 
ings made  by  Babs'  Three  Bips  And  A 
Bop.  That  vocal  group  was  outstanding 
on  "Oop-Bop-A-Da"  and  "Dob-Bla-Bli." 
The  great  Sarah  Vaughan  went  to 
"be-bop"  for  inspiration  on  "You're  Not 
The  Kind"  and  "If  You  Could  See  Me 
Now." 

For  my  own  contributions  to  your 
wax  collection,  there  are  four  sides 
that  have  been  issued  by  Blue  Note 
records.  The  tunes  are  all  original  and 
titled  "Thelonious,"  "Suburban  Eyes," 
"'Round  About  Midnight,"  and  "Well 
You  Needn't."  Listen  for  the  beat  in 
these  four  discs.  The  rhythm  section 
is  the  backbone  of  my  group.  If  the 
beat  is  right,  then  the  horns  can't  help 
but  play  the  music  right. 

And  if  any  of  these  records  will 
further  your  interest  in  the  new  "be- 
bop" form,  then  it  won't  be  long  before 
they  add  another  "B"  to  Barrelhouse, 
Boogie-Woogie  and  Blues.  Make  room 
for  Be-Bop. 


TWIN  CITIES  -famed  and 
friendly  rivals.  Minneapolis^, 
and  Saint  Pauty 


I  i  Hi 


"Why  live  anywhere  else?" 

-says  MINNESOTA! 

What  space— and  what  a  place!  Vacationland  is  right  at 
their  doorstep,  with  field  and  stream,  woods  and  lakes 
aplenty.  Almost  every  kind  of  business  is  here,  too — 
surrounded  by  prosperous  farm  and  dairyland.  Oppor- 
tunity in  every  direction!  No  wonder  there  are  so  few 
"former  Minnesotans"  in  other  states. 

Independent,  intelligent  and  able  people,  neighborly 
Minnesotans  enjoy— as  do  so  many  throughout  the  U.  S. 
—the  fine  flavor  of— 

Beech-Nut  Gum 


The  flavor  favorite 
everywhere 


in*"* 


Beech-Nut 
BEECHIES 

Candy 

Coated  Gum 

-good  too— , 


0 


**1 


-\;*"S 


STATE  CAPlTOL-in Saint Paul.seat  ;JL 
of  sound,  progressive  state  government. 


R 

M 

13 


Bride  and  Groom's  "three  Johns"  add  up  to  quite  a  family — Michael  Masterson,  1;  producer  John  Masterson;  Chris 
Nelson,  2;  M.C.John  Nelson;  Greg  Nelson,  also  2  (they're  twins)  ;  John  Reddy,  Jr.,  1;  writer  John  Reddy;  Suzy  Reddy,  5. 


Guest    Robert    Young    rehearses    for    a    Studio    One    broadcast 
with  producer  Fletcher  Markle,  actress  Mercedes  McCambridge. 


HERE'S  news  for  the  young  folks.  The  Borden 
Company,  through  its  County  Fair  program  on 
CBS  and  the  CBS  network,  will  sponsor  163 
teen-age  owned  and  operated  County  Fair  Corpora- 
tions under  the  Junior  Achievement  youth  business 
training  program. 

This  program  calls  for  the  setting  up  of  County 
Fair  Junior  Achievement  Companies  in  all  areas 
served  by  CBS.  Each  of  these  companies,  made  up  of 
boys  and  girls  between  the  ages  of  15  and  19,  is  to  put 
on  a  fair  during  the  week  of  October  23-30.  Financed 
through  their  own  efforts  and  run  as  a  business,  the 
companies  will  compete  against  each  other  for  val- 
uable merchandise  awards.  The  winning  company 
will  get  a  grand  award — the  County  Fair  program 
*brought  from  New  York  to  originate  in  their  own 
city.  The  young  people  can  use  the  program  to 
promote  a  community  project,  for  any  local  or 
national  charity,  or  for  any  similar  purpose. 

CBS  stations  working  with  Borden  Company  repre- 
sentatives will  take  the  lead  in  forming  these  com- 
panies. The  miniature  enterprises  are  to  be  organized 
in  September.  Groups  will  average  15  members, 
will  sell  stock  to  finance  their  "business"  and  do 
everything  in  strict  accordance  with  business  prac- 
tices. "County  Fair  Week,"  October  23-30,  is  the 
period   during   which   the   Fairs   are   to   take   place. 


14 


Dan    Dailey     (left)    and    Babe    Ru.h,    appearing    on    Louella 
Parsons'  ABC  show,  offered  a  masculine  viewpoint  on  makeup. 


Hi    Jinx    at    breakfast-time:      Jinx    Falkenburg    interviews 
Lucille  Ball  on  the  NBC  morning  Falkenburg-McCrary  show. 


Recent  co-stars  on  the  Screen  Guild  Players,   (CBS)   were  two 
who  take  their  acting  seriously:    Ida  Lupino,  Charles  Boyer. 


Reports  from  the  groups  must  be  received  by  the 
committee  of  judges  by  November  13.  Judging 
begins  on  November  20  and  the  winning  groups  are 
to  be  announced  on  the  County  Fair  broadcast  of 
November  27.  On  December  11,  County  Fair  will  be 
broadcast  from  the  city  which  has  provided  the 
winning  Junior  Achievement  group.    Get  busy,  kids. 

*  *         * 

NBC  has  come  up  with  its  own  competition  to  the 
CBS  Studio  One  stanza.  Radio  City  Playhouse, 
under  the  skillful  handling  of  a  newcomer  to  Amer- 
ican radio,  Harry  W.  Junkin,  bids  fair  to  keep 
Fletcher  Markle  on  his  toes,  too.  NBC  started  out 
with  the  intention  of  making  this  show  a  real 
theater  of  the  air  and  it  looks  as  though  that's  what 
it  will  be.  The  quality  of  the  plays  is  high  and  so  is 
that  of  the  acting.  Maybe  that's  because  the  policy 
behind  the  show  is  that  anyone  can  submit  plays 
and  they  are  brought  on  merit,  not  on  the  basis  of 
the  author's  reputation.  The  same  goes  for  the 
actors;  they  have  to  be  good,  not  necessarily 
glamorous  names.  If  you  like  your  drama  honest  and 
good,  listen  to  NBC,  Saturdays  at  10  P.M.  If  you 
like  what  you  hear,  take  the  trouble  to  let  the  net- 
work know  about  it. 

*  *         * 

The     buying    season     (Continued     on    page     17) 


By   DALE   BANKS 


15 


HOME  TOWN  COMPLEX 


Jeanne's  favorite  charity  is  the  Old  News  Boys'  Fund  for 
the  childrens'  Hospital  of  Pittsburgh.  Here  she  attends 
a  benefit,  accompanied  by  Bernie  Armstrong,  Bill  Hinds. 


A 

M 

16 


Pittsburgh  and  KDKA 
spell  home  to  Jeanne  Baxter;  no  offer 
is  tempting  enough  to  lure  her  away. 


THE  gal  with  the  network  voice — and  a  home- 
town complex — that's  Jeanne  Galbraith  Baxter, 
KDKA's  popular  song  stylist. 

Gifted  with  a  resonant,  dulcet  voice,  Jeanne 
has  been  singing  since  her  high  school  days,  and 
today  she's  a  radio  veteran  of  fifteen  years  as  a 
vocalist  at  KDKA  and  other  Pittsburgh  stations. 
She  also  sang  on  the  NBC  and  Columbia  net- 
works. All  of  which  explains  why  Miss  Baxter, 
year  in  and  year  out,  has  been  one  of  Pittsburgh 
radio's  foremost  girl  singers  of  popular  songs. 
Her  extensive  repertoire  of  current  and  old  time 
favorites  not  only  helps  her  in  her  radio  work, 
but  it  has  created  a  constant  demand  for  personal 
appearances  through  KDKA's  vast  listening  area. 

Jeanne  started  singing  professionally  with  her 
two  sisters.  Their  father  is  a  musician  and  it 
was  under  his  tutelage  that  the  three  girls  took 
to  the  airways.  She  became  a  soloist  when  her 
sisters  married  and  retired  from  professional  life. 
Though  she  is  now  married  too — she's  the  wife 
of  Fred  Baxter  of  the  W.  Earl  Bothwell  Advertis- 
ing Agency  and  the  mother  of  a  son — she  has 
continued  as  an  active  entertainer. 

Jeanne  has  been  featured  on  many  KDKA  pro- 
grams and  currently  is  the  feminine  star  of 
Bernie  Armstrong's  Friday  night  Duquesne  Show. 
Though  she  has  sung  in  New  York  and  has  had 
many  offers  to  join  famed  name  bands,  she  pre- 
fers to  stay  in  Pittsburgh  so  that  she  can  be  near 
her  family.  She  has  sung  with  Phil  Spitalny  and 
his  orchestra  and  made  recordings  with  Bernie 
Armstrong,  KDKA's  musical  director. 

Since  she  and  her  husband  moved  into  their 
new  home  in  Pittsburgh's  suburban  Rolling  Hills, 
Jeanne  has  developed  a  flair  for  community  ac- 
tivity and  has  been  closely  identified  with  educa- 
tional and  civic  programs.  She  has  also  taken  an 
active  part  in  the  social  life  of  Rolling  Hills  and 
its  neighboring  communities. 

And  she  has  great  plans  for  her  son,  Chipper, 
who  at  the  age  of  four  warbles  away  in  great 
style.  Some  day,  she  hopes,  there'll  be  another 
Baxter  among  Pittsburgh  radio  favorites. 


COAST  to   COAST 

(Continued  from  page   15) 


Actress  Jan  Miner  is  the  roman- 
tic lead  in  NBC's   Lora  Lawton. 


for  fall  radio  programs  has  been  very- 
late  this  year.  Usually  fall  shows 
are  signed,  sealed  and  delivered  by 
July  15,  but  this  summer  many  shows 
weren't  taken  off  the  hook  until 
way  in  August.  Seems  there  was 
a  tussle  between  economy-minded 
agencies  and  talent  which  was  holding 
out  for  high  prices. 

*  *         * 

Hey!  In  the  midst  of  all  the  talk 
about  retrenchment  a  new  sponsor  has 
created  a  furore  by  asking  a  top  radio 
writer  to  block  out  a  program  idea  and 
do  an  audition  script  on  a  show  with 
a  weekly  budget  of  $50,000! 

*  *         * 

Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes — Not  long 
ago,  Ralph  Edwards  had  a  birthday. 
One  of  the  guests  at  the  party  asked 
six-year-old  Christine  Edwards  who 
was  her  favorite  radio  star.  The  Truth 
or  Consequences  m.c.'s  daughter  an- 
swered, "Gene  Autry."  The  question 
was  reworded,  trying  to  get  the  child 
to  name  her  daddy.  Finally,  someone 
else  asked,  "What  does  your  daddy  do?" 
To  which  Chris  replied,  "I  really  don't 
know.    I  think  he  plays  games." 

*  *         * 

Talking  about  games,  here's  a  new 
twist  on  the  "giveaway"  shows.  Over 
a  local  station  in  New  York,  WNEW, 
Jack  Barry,  who  handles  Mutual's 
Juvenile  Jury  and  Life  Begins  at  80 
programs,  has  launched  a  show  called 
You  Can  Lose  Your  Shirt.  On  this 
show  contestants  can't  win  a  penny  and 
can  lose  a  hundred  dollars.  They  pay 
an  entry  fee  of  $100  and  have  to  answer 
four  questions  correctly  to  get  their 
hundred  bucks  back.  The  money  goes 
to  charity  and  should  the  contestant 
answer  all  questions  correctly  he  gets 
his  money  back  and  the  program's 
sponsor  dishes  out  the  $100.  Barry  is 
also  donating  his  salary  to  charity.    So 

nobody  wins. 

*  *         * 

If  present  plans  materialize,  Stop 
the  Music  will  be  televised  next  season. 
Other  plans  in  the  making  include  a 
syndicated  column,  a  motion  picture, 
a  record  album,  and  a  touring  road 
show,  all  based  on  the  radio  stanza. 
Spreading  it  all  over  the  place,  aren't 

they? 

*  *         * 

Radio's  ten-  (Continued  on  page  19) 


3  wcu  §x  a  W\fa&  ^<w^«. 
oft  8  a  eilocjfe  fa  ifee.  w\bvv\0wfl  • 


\% 


/•  "For  office  hours  1  wear  a  tailored 
suit  with  trim  jacket  and  widely  flared 
skirt,  set  off  with  gold  buttons,  pin  and 
earrings  and  sporting  a  separate  bright 
cummerbund.  And,  of  course,  I  rely  on 
new,  even  gentler,  even  more  effective 
Odorono  Cream.  Because  I  know  it  protects 
me  from  perspiration  and  offensive  odors  a 
full  24  hours." 

You'll  find  new  Odorono  so  safe  you 
can  use  it  right  after  shaving!  So  harmless 
to  fine  fabrics  .  .  .  protects  clothes  from 
stains  and  rotting!  So  creamy-smooth  too 
, . .  even  if  you  leave  the  cap  off  for  weeks! 


£»  "For  after  hours — Off  with  the  jacket, 
a  quick  change  to  bowling  shoes,  and  I'm 
right  down  the  alley  for  an  evening  of  fun. 
I'm  confident  of  my  charm  all  evening  too 
— thanks  to  new  Odorono  Cream.  Because 
the  Halgene  in  Odorono  gives  more  effective 
protection  than  any  deodorant  known." 

Now,  Odorono  Cream  brings  you  an  im- 
proved new  formula  .  .  .  even  gentler, 
even  more  effective  than  ever  before  .  .  . 
all  done  up  in  its  pretty,  bright  new  pack- 
age. Buy  some  today  and  see  if  you  don't 
find  this  the  most  completely  satisfying 
deodorant  you  have  ever  used. 


flfcty*  ^exs^oftcw  and 


(Now  in  25{  and  5(H  sizes,  plus  tax.) 


S^ffm^  ^tA  &tfk*j$uyb  I 


New,  non-coloring  'Vaseline' 
Eyebrow-Eyelash  Cream  helps 
smooth  unruly  brows — gives 
them  a  clean,  serene  line. 

Brush  lashes  up  and  out  with 
this  wonderful  new  cream — see 
how  lustrous,  how  long  they 
seem,  without  "made-up  look." 

For  a  dewy,  luminous,  dreamy- 
eyed  look,  add  a  subtle,  satiny 
touch  of  fragrant  Eyebrow- 
Eyelash  Cream  to  eyelids. 


18 


Spike  Jones'  latest  disc,  like 

all  the  others,  has  a  pair  of 

comical  labels. 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

BUDDY  CLARK  (Columbia) — Riding  higher  than  ever  after  teaming  with 
Doris  Day  for  a  hit  "Love  Somebody,"  Buddy  comes  through  again  with  a  fine 
job  on  a  truly  beautiful  ballad,  "Where  the  Flamingoes  Fly."  Mitchell  Ayres' 
background  consists  of  trumpet,  clarinet,  flute  and  strings.  The  reverse  side 
is  "On  The  Waterfall." 

ALBERT  AMMONS  (Mercury) — This  platter  is  proof  that  boogie-woogie 
wasn't  a  fad.  Though  the  eight-to-the-bar  craze  is  not  what  it  used  to  be, 
Albert  Amnions'  versions  of  "Bear  Den  Boogie"  and  "Tuxedo  Boogie"  will 
give  you  much  pleasure. 

GENE  KRUPA  (Columbia)— Much  like  the  Goodman  Trio  of  old,  this  is 
called  the  Gene  Krupa  Jazz  Trio.  Geney,  of  the  light  brown  drumsticks,  ex- 
cels on  "Body  and  Soul"  and  "Stompin'  At  The  Savoy." 

CHUBBY  JACKSON  (MGM)— To  the  uninitiated,  Chubby  plays  bass, 
wears  a  beard  and  is  known  as  the  "monster."  On  this  platter,  "L'Ana"  is 
be-bopish  in  style,  while  the  frivolous  bit  on  the  reverse  is  titled — "The  Happy 
Monster."   Both  are  fine  jazz. 

BARCLAY  ALLEN  (Capitol)— Another  Freddy  Martin  graduate,  Mr.  Allen 
maintains  the  style  he  used  so  successfully  when  with  the  Martin  band.  Backed 
by  a  rhythm  section,  he  plays  "It  Began  In  Havana"  and  "Nola." 

TOMMY  DORSEY  (RCA  Victor)— This  disc  is  one  of  the  best  TD  has  made 
in  quite  some  time.  We  prefer  "Let  Me  Call  You  Sweetheart"  with  a  Stuart 
Foster  and  chorus  vocal.  You  may  prefer  listening  to  Gordon  Polk  sing 
"Walk  It  Off." 

RAY  BAUDUC  (Capitol) — If  you  are  not  familiar  with  the  Dixieland  or 
two-beat  school  of  jazz,  then  get  to  hear  this  one.  If  you  are  familiar  with  the 
style,  then  the  best  recommendation  for  this  record  is  the  following  list  of 
musicians  who  made  the  disc  with  Ray:  Eddie  Miller,  Nate  Kazebier,  Matty 
Matlock,   Brad   Gowans,   Stan   Wrightsman,   Nappy   Lamare   and   Morty   Corb. 

JOHNNY  DESMOND  (MGM)— A  recent  addition  to  this  label,  Johnny 
makes  an  auspicious  debut  with  "P.  S.  I  Love  You"  and  "I  Wonder  Where  My 
Baby  Is  Tonight."  The  former,  you  are  right,  is  the  oldie  that  you  remember 
way  back  when . 

SPIKE  JONES  (RCA  Victor) — Your  favorite  disc-jockey  has  probably  worn 
out  three  records  playing  this  one,  by  this  time  you've  heard  it  and  laughed 
with  it  many  a  time,  but  it's  almost  as  much  fun  buying  a  Spike  Jones  record 
just  to  read  the  label  as  there  is  in  listening.  This  label  says  that  "I'm  Getting 
Sentimental  Over  You"  has  a  vocal  refrain  by  "The  Barefooted  Pennsylvanians; 
credits:  Sir  Frederick  Gas,  Dick  Morgan  and  George  Rock."  "I  Kiss  Your 
Hand  Madame,"  insists  that  the  vocal  is  by  Paul  Judson  and  the  Ben  Ghost 
Singers. 

ALBUM    ARTISTRY 

AMBROSE  HORS  D'OEUVRES  (London)— Bert  Ambrose  had  to  go  to 
England  many  years  ago  before  the  American  public  began  to  realize  his  tal- 
ents. This  album  contains  a  collection  of  eight  of  the  most  famous  and  most 
admired  Ambrose  selections.  You'll  particularly  like  the  title  tune  and 
"B'Wanga." 

ANDRE  PREVIN  AT  THE  PIANO  (RCA  Victor)— The  19-year-old  French- 
man,  who  is  writing  musical  scores  for  Hollywood  films,  is  one  of  the  very 
best  piano  technicians  around.  This  set  contains  such  fine  songs  as  "But  Not 
For  Me,"  "Mad  About  The  Boy,"  "Just  One  Of  Those  Things,"  and  "Should  I." 


FACING  the  MUSIC 


COAST  to   COAST 

(Continued  from  page  17) 

year-old  Norma  Jean  Nilson,  who  plays 
"Cookie  Bumstead"  on  the  Blondie 
program,  has  been  a  good  luck  charm 
for  the  King  Brothers,  well  known 
Hollywood  independent  producers. 
She's  had  a  part  in  every  picture 
they've  made  in  the  past  five  years. 
The  King  Brothers  feel  sure  that 
Norma  Jean  is  their  good  fairy,  be- 
cause right  from  the  beginning  every 
picture  she  was  in  has  paid  off. 

*  *         * 

The  night  before  Sammy  Kaye's 
singer  and  saxophonist,  Chubby  Silvers, 
left  Los  Angeles  for  New  York,  his 
auto  license  plates  were  stolen.  In  a 
rush  to  reach  New  York,  Chubby  left 
without  getting  new  plates.  On  his 
way  across  the  country,  he  was  stopped 
more  than  50  times  for  driving  without 
plates  and  only  credentials  proving  he 
was  an  honorary  member  of  the  Los 
Angeles  Police  Department  saved  him 
from  stiff  fines.  The  payoff  lies  in  the 
fact  that  Chubby  had  been  made  a 
volunteer  L.A.  cop  only  two  days  be- 
fore he  left  the  West  Coast. 

*  *         * 

Have  you  noticed  how  the  midwest 
seems  to  be  "the  lucky  area"  as  far  as 
radio's  biggest  prizes  are  concerned? 
It  was  a  Chicago  woman  who  won  the 
"Walking  Man"  contest.  Now  a  Cleve- 
land, Ohio,  youngster  named  Kenneth 
Friedley  has  won  thousands  of  dollars 
in  prizes  by  identifying  Cheyenne  as 
the  city  which  changed  its  name  to 
"Lone  Ranger  Frontier  Town"  in  ob- 
servance of  the  Lone  Ranger's  fifteenth 
and  widely-celebrated  radio  anniver- 
sary. 

*  *        * 

When  Bill  Lawrence  worked  as  di- 
alogue director  for  Republic's  "The 
Plunderers,"  he  used  an  old  radio 
technique  and  recorded  all  speeches 
on  tape,  which  permitted  playbacks 
for  criticism  and  correction  before 
filming.  Now,  other  producers  are 
seriously  thinking  of  taking  up  this 
technique  because  it  cuts  production 
time  and  cost. 

*  *         * 

Reports  indicate  that  Philip  Morris, 
contrary  to  the  current  trend  in  radio, 
will  increase  its  spending  this  fall. 
And,  happy  day,  they  will  skip  the 
giveaway  gimmick  for  straight  enter- 
tainment. 

*  *         * 

Plucky  Susan  Peters,  who  made  her 
movie  comeback  in  a  wheelchair,  is  now 
branching  out  in  radio.  She's  cut  an 
audition  platter  for  a  half  hour  show 
called  "Book  Store  Girl." 


If  present  plans  materialize  for  the 
Front  Page  show,  starring  Dick  Powell, 
to  be  televised,  Producer  Don  Sharpe 
will  take  the  show  to  New  York,  where 
the  city  room  of  one  of  the  Manhattan 
newspapers  will  be  used  as  background. 
*         *         * 

Shades  of  the  Past!  You  know  there's 
been  a  lot  of  turning  back,  recently. 
Movie  companies  are  re-releasing  a  lot 
of  oldies,  magazines  and  newspapers 
here  and  there  are  reprinting  the 
stories  of  famous  writers  like  O.  Henry 
and  Ring  Lardner.  Now,  radio's  at 
it.  Chandu,  which  was  first  heard  on 
the  Pacific  Coast  back  in  the  days 
of  crystal    (Continued  on  Page  91) 


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19 


Whenever  you  hear  good  music 
on  Buffalo's  WBEN,  you  know  that  the  baton 
is  in  the  hands  of  Max  Miller,  the  station's  Musical  Director. 


VERSATILE  is  the  word  for  maestro  Max  Miller, 
musical  director  of  WBEN,  Buffalo.  The  black- 
haired  violinist,  who  really  looks  like  a  musician, 
is  accomplished  in  the  various  fields  of  symphony,  con- 
cert, radioT  night  club,  and  theater  music. 

He  directs  the  orchestra  on  the  WBEN  Bandbox  show 
five  evenings  a  week.  He  plays  the  violin  with  the  trio 
on  the  Early  Date  at  Hengerer's  show  five  mornings  a 
week.  He  is  concertmaster  of  the  Buffalo  Philharmonic 
Orchestra.  He  also  has  appeared  as  concert  soloist  with 
the  Philharmonic  and  has  directed  several  of  its  pop 
concerts.  Max  also  features  his  "gypsy"  violin  on  the 
air  during  the  Bandbox  program  a  few  evenings  a  week. 

Max  was  a  boy  prodigy  on  the  violin  and  won  many 
city  and  state  honors  while  in  grade  school.  At  the  age 
of  nine,  he  began  his  radio  career  with  his  own  solo 
program  on  Buffalo  stations,  and  at  thirteen  he  won  the 
national  gold  medal  awarded  by  the  National  Federation 
of  Music  Clubs.  A  native  Buffalonian,  he  won  scholar- 
ships to  the  Eastman  School  of  Music  at  Rochester  and 
Curtis  Institute  at  Philadelphia. 

While  attending  East  High  School,  Buffalo,  Max  was 
forced  to  make  a  difficult  decision.  "I  always  loved 
sports  almost  as  well  as  music,"  as  he  tells  the  story, 
"and  I  had  the  idea  that  a  musician  should  protect  his 
hands.    So  I  decided  to  go  light  on  sports." 

Max's  big  love  was  baseball,  and  although  he  re- 
luctantly gave  up  the  opportunity  to  pitch  for  the  high 
school  nine,  he  did  pitch  indoor  baseball  with  one  of 
the  outstanding  teams  in  the  American  Legion-Buffalo 
Evening  News  leagues.  He  gained  the  reputation  of 
being  one  of  the  best  indoor  baseball  pitchers  in  the 
Buffalo   area. 

After  leaving  high  school,  Max  was  featured  for  ten 
years  as  violin  soloist  in  Shea's  Buffalo  Theater  or- 
chestra. He  also  found  time  to  tour  the  East  as  soloist 
in  recitals  and  frequently  directed  orchestras  in  night 
clubs.  While  at  the  theater,  he  also  pitched  for  the 
orchestra's  indoor  baseball  team  in  a  musicians'  league. 

His  younger  brother,  Harry,  is  the  staff  pianist  in  the 


Violin   prodigy   at   nine,   Max   has 
mastered    many    fields    of    music. 

WBEN  orchestra  and  also  has  appeared  as  soloist  on  the 
station.  Their  father,  who  was  born  in  Russia,  was  an 
expert  in  native  Russian  dances  and  the  boys  inherited 
his  great  love  of  rhythm. 

Max's  most  recent  serious  venture  was  as  conductor 
of  the  Buffalo  Philharmonic  at  one  of  its  summer  pop 
concerts.  He  is  best-known  nationally  as  the  orchestra 
director  on  the  recent  NBC  network  program  titled, 
"Your  Host  is  Buffalo." 

Max's  wife  Sylvia  is  an  accomplished  singer,  although 
she  prefers  to  let  the  professional  spotlight  fall  on  her 
talented  husband.  They  have  a  daughter,  Sharon  Lynn, 
five  years  old,  and  a  son,  Jeffrey  David,  ten  months  old. 
Max  is  teaching  Sharon  the'  violin  and  says  she  shows 
great  musical  promise. 


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Glamour-wise  shades!  Ten  of  them— for 
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COLOK-KEYED  CUTEX  LIPSTICKS,  TOO! 

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for  your  lips.  Both  polish  and  lipstick  available  in  a  special  dressing  table 
package.  Large-size  Lipstick  alone,  4%  plus  tax. 


THE   SECOND    ANNUA! 


BADIO  MIRROR 


I  AST  year  at  this  time,  Radio  Mirror  Magazine  inaugurated  an  entirely  new  kind 
of  radio  poll — the  Radio  Mirror  Awards — designed  to  discover  the  preferences 
of  the  nation's  radio  listening  public. 

Frankly,  it  was  an  experiment.  In  proof  that  it  was  a  successful  one,  we  announce 
the  Second  Annual  Radio  Mirror  Awards,  no  longer  an  experiment  but  an  estab- 
lished institution,  a  regular  part — and  a  very  important  one — of  the  yearly  schedule 
of  our  magazine. 

We  know  now  what  last  year  we  had  only  hoped  to  be  the  case:  that  radio  listeners 
throughout  the  country  are  grateful  for  this,  their  only  opportunity  on  a  nation- 
wide basis,  to  make  known  their  likes  and  dislikes,  interests  and  tastes,  in  radio 
listening  fare. 

There  is  no  other  institution  like  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards.  Each  year  there 
are  many  radio  polls — polls  of  radio  editors,  columnists,  critics.  But  only  through 
the  Radio  Mirror  Awards  may  the  listeners  themselves,  who  have  no  interest  at 
heart  but  the  interest  of  good  listening,  have  their  say.  Radio  Mirror  believes  that 
the  listeners  are  the  most  important  people  in  the  whole  of  the  very  big  business 
of  radio;  through  the  Awards,  listeners  are  invited  to  voice  their  opinions — the 
opinions  which  have  the  best  right  of  all  to  be  heard. 

In  the  coming  November  issue,  the  first  ballot  in  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards  for 
1948  will  be  printed,  on  which  reader-listeners  will  be  asked  to  vote  for  their 
favorite  radio  personalities.  In  the  December  issue  will  appear  the  second  ballot, 
offering  listeners  the  opportunity  to  vote  for  their  favorite  radio  programs.  When 
these  two  sets  of  ballots  have  been  counted,  the  resulting  tabulation  will  form 
the  basis  for  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards  for  1948,  to  be  presented  to  the  top-ranking 
performers  and  programs  next  Spring. 

The  November  and  December  issues  of  Radio  Mirror  Magazine  will  be,  then,  the 
most  important  issues  of  the  year  to  you,  the  radio  listener  who,  rather  than  simply 
applauding  your  favorite  programs  and  criticizing  those  you  don't  like,  really  want 
to  do  something  about  getting  from  radio  the  kind  and  quality  of  program  you 
enjoy.  The  thing  you  can  do  is  to  cast  your  votes  for  your  favorites  on  the  ballots 
in  the  next  two  issues  of  Radio  Mirror.   Make  your  voice  heard! 


23 


HEY  all  come  onto  the  stage  of  the  CBS  playhouse 
where  we  broadcast  We,  the  People  every  Tuesday 
night.  The  famous  and  the  obscure,  the  rich  and  the 
poor — prizefighters,  shoe -shine  boys,  actors  and  ac- 
tresses, generals,  judges,  doctors,  panhandlers  from  city 
streets,  gamblers,  waitresses,  opera  stars,  salesmen, 
miners,  elevator  operators,  every  sort  of  person  you 
can  imagine.  That's  why  it  is  such  fun  to  be  this  show's 
master  of  ceremonies,  as  I  am.  It  is  one  job  of  which 
the  old  saying  is  true:  "You  meet  such  interesting 
people." 

But  every  now  and  then  one  face  stands  out  from  this 
parade  of  personalities;  one  story  strikes  right  down  to 
the  bottom  of  your  heart.  This  is  that  kind  of  story — 
a  story  of  success  and  failure,  of  hope  lost  and  then 
found  again. 

Perhaps  you  were  listening  a  few  weeks  ago  when 
two  of  the  guests  on  We,  the  People  were  a  man  named 
Joe  White  and  his  son  Bobby.  Perhaps  you  heard  what 
Joe  said  on  the  air.   That  was  part  of  his  story,  but  it 


wasn't  all,  because  Joe  is  not  the  sort  of  man  who  will- 
ingly looks  backward  to  the  dark  times  that  have  passed. 
Joe's  eyes  are  fixed  unwaveringly  on  the  future  now, 
and  it  would  have  been  physically  impossible  for  him  to 
re-live,  for  the  listening  millions  on  a  nationwide  net- 
work, the  fear  and  discouragement  he  lived  through  a 
few  years  ago.  It  would  have  seemed  to  him  like  asking 
for  sympathy,  for  pity — and  Joe  never  did  need  those. 
On  the  contrary! 

It  isn't  likely  you  recognize  the  name  of  Joe  White 
unless  you  were  listening  to  We,  the  People,  on  the  night 
he  was  its  guest.  You  might — if  you  were  old  enough 
to  be  a  radio  fan  in  the  nineteen-twenties  and  nineteen- 
thirties — know  him  better  as  The  Silver-Masked  Tenor. 
Under  that  name,  Joe  was  one  of  the  first  of  radio's 
great  singers  of  popular  songs.  A  muscular,  handsome 
young  Irishman,  he  had  a  tenor  voice  of  magic  sweet- 
ness and  appeal,  and  every  week  that  voice  was  heard 
on  millions  of  sets  tuned  in  from  Maine  to  California. 

Even  then,  in  those  early  days  of  radio,  he  was  a  radio 


It's   legend   in   the   White  family   that   each   generation's 
fifth   child  will  sing.    Both  Joe  and  Bobby  were  No.  5. 


6H161ilD6r 


By  DWIGHI 


Bobby,    shown   below   with    Msgr.   Fulton    Sheen,   is   a    student 
at    St.    Jerome's    Parochial    School,    keeps    his    averages    high. 


■■*.*,> 

1 

1 

■  4fl 

1 

** 

!* 

HtJh   ■  ~~°  "j^vK 

Dwiijht    Weist    is    m.c.    of   We,    the    People,    which   it 
heard  every  Tuesday  night  at  9  EST,  on  CBS  stations. 


24 


veteran.  He'd  made  his  first  Broadcast  in  1921,  into  a 
"tomato-can"  microphone  in  a  Newark  studio  where  a 
sheet  of  plate-glass  separated  the  performers  from  any 
onlookers  who  might  come  into  the  studio  for  curiosity's 
sake.  He  had  become  fascinated  by  this  new  thing, 
radio,  and  he  sang  over  the  New  York  stations  WJZ, 
WEAF,  and  WOR  at  a  time  when  the  networks  of 
which  they  were  to  be  the  key  stations  were  just  be- 
ginning to  be  dreamed  about. 

The  silver  mask  was  an  accident.  At  WEAF,  Joe  had 
just  finished  a  program  and  was  on  his  way  home  when 
a  distracted  program  director  rushed  out  of  another 
studio.  The  star  of  his  show  hadn't  appeared,  and  the 
program  was  about  to  go  on  the  air.  He  grabbed  Joe's 
arm  and  hustled  him  into  the  studio.  "Sing,  Joe,  sing!" 
were  the  only  instructions  he  had  time  to  give.  But  they 
were  all  Joe  needed.   He  sang. 

After  his  number  the  announcer  stepped  to  the  mike. 
The  producer  had  neglected  to  tell  him  Joe's  name,  but 
he  had  to  say  something.    He   (Continued  on  page  75) 


■~? 


WEIS1 


Spotlighted  by  We,  the 


People:  Joe  White,  whose  singing 


son  may  reach  the  heights 


on  which,  in  radio's  early  days, 


the  Silver-Masked  Tenor  dwelt 


When  Bobby  and  his  father 

appeared  on  We,  the  People,  Dwight 

Weist  introduced  them  to 

actress  Margaret  O'Brien,  a  fellow  guest. 


« 


I 

■ 

25 


Garry    Moore    thought    radio    was    waiting    for    him.     It    took    him    a    while    to 


By  HOWARD   SHARPE 


THE  day  had  been  typical  of  all  the  days  Garry 
Moore  had  spent  since  he'd  decided  to  take  his 

Take  It  Or  Leave  It  show  to  New  York.  He  had 
come  in  at  four  in  the  morning  after  a  long  session 
at  Eddie  Condon's  Village  Dixieland  bistro,  had  a 
cold  shower  and  a  pot  of  black  coffee,  kept  three 
appointments  in  the  forenoon,  one  at  lunch,  two  in 
the  afternoon,  and  now  was  preparing  to  meet  a 
USO  gang  for  a  trip  to  a  veterans'  hospital.  The 
phone  rang  in  his  Gotham  Hotel  suite. 

It  was  the  Coast  calling.  There  was  only  one 
person  in  the  radio  field,  the  NBC  executive  at  the 
other  end  said,  who  could  take  over  the  Tom  Brene- 
man  show,  Breakfast  In  Hollywood.  Did  Garry  feel 
he  wanted  to  tackle  it? 

In  Radio  Mirror  last  month,  Garry  himself  de- 
scribed his  nattered — and  frightened — reaction. 

Tom  Breneman,  until  his  death  a  few  months  ago, 
was  one  of  the  most  beloved  figures  in  radio,  and 
one  of  the  most  popular.  To  attempt  to  step  into  his 
shoes  would  be  a  monumental  task. 

On  the  plane  flying  West  the  next  evening  Garry 
said  to  Nell,  his  wife,  "Well,  why  should  I  step  into 
Breneman's  shoes?  He  had  a  personality  uniquely 
his  own,  and  I  think  people  would  resent  my  trying 
to  ape  him  even  if  I  were  ham  enough  to  do  it.  It 
certainly  wouldn't  be  fair  to  Tom  and  his  memory, 
and  I  don't  propose  to  submerge  my  own  character, 
which  heaven  knows  is  the  antithesis  of  his.  I've 
got  to  work  it  some  other  way." 

"But  the  Breneman  show,"  Nell  pointed  out,  "fol- 
lows a  pattern  that  everyone's  used  to.  All  the 
ladies  show  up  at  the  restaurant,  you  kid  them 
along,  everyone  stooges  for  everyone  else,  and  the 
laughs  are  on  the  house.  All  very,  very  homey. 
Will  they  let  you  change  that?" 

With  a  sudden  gleam  in  his  eye  Garry  asked,  "Do 
you  remember  Club  Matinee?" 

"Could  I  forget  it?"  Club  Matinee,  over  the  Blue 
Network  some  years  ago,  was  a  sustaining  show 
originated,  produced  and  written  by  Garry  and  was 
pointed  to  with  considerable  pride  by  the  network 
as  their  contribution  to  the  higher  sort  of  humor 
and  entertainment  in  the  field  of  radio. 


"I  am  thinking,"  said  Garry,  "that  very  gradually 
— but  not  too  gradually — the  mood  of  Breakfast  In 
Hollywood  might  change  its  personality  to  match 
the  personality  of  its  new  m.c.  And  that  a  kind  of 
merger  of  the  Breneman  idea  and  the  Club  Matinee 
idea  might  not  be  a  bad  thing.  .  .  ." 

Garry  Moore  has  been  thinking  a  little  too  hard 
and  too  fast  for  the  good  of  his  blood  pressure  since 
he  was  a  kid  in  Baltimore  and  decided  that  man 
was  now  ready  to  listen  to  the  radio.  During  his 
last  year  in  high  school  his  busy,  fertile  mind  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  giving  listeners  a  little  delicious 
horror  over  the  airlanes  every  evening,  and  a  local 
station  took  him  on.  By  the  time  he  was  nineteen 
he  figured  he  was  ready  for  New  York  and  the 
big  time. 

So  he  went  to  the  metropolis  and,  no  piker  he, 
auditioned  for  the  guest  spot  on  the  Fred  Allen 
show.  They  said,  "We'll  call  you  when  we  need 
you."  He  thought  they  meant  it.  For  three  days  he 
did  not  leave  his  hotel  room  (on  a  shaft)  at  the 
Shelton.  Then  he  called  the  station  and  asked  what 
the  delay  was  all  about. 

"Look,  Buster,"  they  began — and  gave  him  the 
facts  of  life. 

After  he  had  called  Baltimore  long  distance,  and 
ascertained  that — with  a  few  reservations — the  sta- 
tion would  take  him  back,  Garry  lay  in  his  bed 
at  the  hotel  and  tried  to  sleep.  Sleep  evaded  him. 
The  picture  of  the  next  day's  auditions  was  in  his 
mind,  and  since  it  was  a  brash  young  nineteen- 
year-old  mind  it  refused  to  give  up. 

Two  and  a  half  hours  later  he  leaped  out  of  bed. 
He  dressed  in  three  minutes  flat  and  went  charging 
out  of  the  hotel.  On  Third  Avenue,  under  the  L, 
he  pried  up  a  manhole  cover  and  took  it  back  to 
his  room,  thoughtless  of  the  taxis,  dogs  and  chil- 
dren who  might  stumble  into  the  uncovered  sewer; 
thereafter,  until  four  in  the  morning  and  from  eight 
until  noon,  he  was  very  busy  collecting  things. 

At  2:30  P.M.,  unabashed  as  only  youth  can  be  in 
such  circumstances,  he  arrived  at  the  audition  bear- 
ing a  step-ladder,  a  sledge  hammer,  a  coil  of  rope, 
the  manhole   cover   and    (Continued   on  page   78) 


Garry  Moore  is  m.c.  of  the  Breakfast  in  Hollywood  program  (ABC,  Mon.-Fri.,  11  A.M.  EST)  and  of  Take  It  or  Leave  It  (NBC,  Sun.,  10  P.M.  EST). 


26 


learn  the  facts — and   by  then   it   was! 


Biggest  thrill  of  all  was  being 
asked  to  take  Tom 
Breneman's    place.    It    was    the 
biggest  problem,  too. 
Garry  solved  it,  as  always,  by 
instinct  plus  intelligence. 


J*W 


Sv&uf  tune  'TKn*.  @ofifaent6ite'&  *vcidi&&zu4: 
"7(fe  now  MitftcA  e^ou. . . "  t/ie,  UoJU  ttenvoutfy 

(UAuid  6&i.  'pot.  one  cu^on^ett<i6(e  day.  tfo 
%e&t  e£  t&at  tertUttce  tunned  out  fo  6c 

fan  own    UviHj  whh  in  TOtofanqtOH.  &-  &■ 


| 

*-f 

y  1 

mf^* 

H 

■ 

T*. 

> 

Y' 

•f 

16-year-old  Andrew  wa6  in  on 

the  plans,  but  kept  them  all 
secret  from  his  mother — "so 

she'd   have  a   perfect  surprise." 


It  Happened  0 


n 


BY  MARJORIE 


MINE,  ALL  MINE!  A  brand  new  Ford  V-8 
deluxe  sedan  .  .  .  except  that,  six  hours 
after  winning  the  handsome  car  via  CBS's 
Hint  Hunt  jingle  contest,  I  sold  it  and  ear- 
marked the  proceeds  for  medical  treatment  so 
that  one  day,  God  willing,  I  may  no  longer  need 
this  wheel-chair. 

Despite  the  shadow  cast  over  our  household 
by  my  affliction,  which  struck  without  warning 
in  1936,  we  who  occupy  this  Washington,  D.  C. 
apartment  usually  manage  to  keep  in  fairly 
good  spirits.  More  often  than  not  there's 
hearty  laughter  resounding  through  these  four 
rooms  .  .  .  laughter  sparked  by  the  naturally 
buoyant  humor  of  my  husky  16-year-old  son, 
Andrew. 

However,  a  new  high  in  happy  atmosphere 
and  excitement  was  reached  on  the  lucky  day, 
not  many  weeks  ago.  I'm  really  thankful  that 
a  weak  heart  isn't  part  of  my  ailment,  for  that 
momentous  Monday  was  keynoted  by  suspense. 

Actually,  the  suspense  set  in  three  days 
earlier,  on  Friday,  when  my  mother,  Mrs. 
Eunice  Crittenden,  was  away  working  at  her 

Hint  Hunt  is  hear*  off  the  CBS  network, 


Seconds  after  her  name  -was  announced  as  a  Hint  Hunt  winner  Mrs.  Copperthite 
found  that  the  program  had  moved  into  her  living  room,  with  WTOP's  Glenn 
Taylor,  sponsor's  representative  John   Meyer — and   photographers   by   the   dozen. 


Engineer  Roy  Bechtol,  "WTOP  producer  Larry  Becker- 
man,  announcer  Glenn  Taylor,  plus  equipment,  waited 
for  cue  in  the  basement  of  Mrs.  Copperthite's  building. 


Hint  Hunt 


COPPERTHITE 


office  in  downtown  Washington.  Andrew  was 
attending  school  and  only  my  great- aunt,  Mrs. 
Josephine  Whitcraft,  who  is  the  fourth  member 
of  our  household,  was  at  home  with  me.  I  had 
not  yet  risen  ...  in  fact,  rarely  do  I  leave  my 
specially- rigged  invalid's  bed  until  about  noon- 
time. The  door  buzzer  sounded  and  Aunt 
Josephine  answered  it.  I  heard  muffled  voices 
in  the  living  room.  Presently  Aunt  Josephine 
came  in,  her  lovable,  normally  calm  features 
wrinkled  in  an  expression  of  puzzlement. 

"Marjorie,"  she  whispered,  "there's  a  Mr. 
John  Meyer  out  there.  Says  he's  the  Washing- 
ton representative  of  Armour  and  Company." 

For  a  moment  my  expression  must  have 
appeared  quite  as  puzzled  as  Aunty's  .  .  .  then 
I  remembered  the  jingles  I'd  submitted  to  Hint 
Hunt  not  three  weeks  previous.  With  lively 
visions  of  a  cash  prize — maybe  even  the  fifty  - 
dollar  one — being  ceremoniously  handed  to  me, 
I  tidied  up  in  record  time  and,  helped  by  Aunt 
Josephine,  switched  from  bed  to  wheel-chair. 

My  caller  was  a  genial  gentleman;  portly, 
dignified — and  cryptic!    After  a  few  preliminary 

Monday  through  Friday  afternoons  at  4  EST. 


questions  aimed  at  verifying  that  I  was  really 
the  Marjorie  Copperthite  who  submitted  the 
jingles,  Mr.  Meyer  smiled  and  said,  "I  don't 
want  to  get  you  all  up  in  the  air,  Mrs.  Copper- 
thite, but  I  have  an  idea  you've  won  a  prize." 

As  to  how  much  of  a  prize,  the  emissary  from 
Hint  Hunt  would  drop  nary  a  hint.  After  he'd 
left  us,  Aunt  Josephine  fairly  babbled  over  all 
the  possibilities.  This  was  no  mere  five  or  ten 
dollar  prize,  I  argued.  This  time,  I'd  hit  the 
jackpot  with  fifty  dollars  .  .  .  else  why  would 
they  send  a  personal  representative? 

In  the  midst  of  our  conjectures,  another  de- 
velopment unfolded.  I  received  a  post-card  in 
the  morning's  mail.  It  came  from  an  old  friend 
who  proudly  wrote  that  she  had  won  a  fifty- 
dollar  prize  from  Hint  Hunt.  Spurred  by 
curiosity,  I  picked  up  the  telephone  and  called 
the  lucky  gal.  When  I  inquired  whether  she. 
too,  had  received  a  personal  visit  from  the  spon- 
sors of  that  program,  she  replied,  "Gosh,  no.  The 
check  for  fifty  came  by  mail." 

I  wondered:  why  this  special  treatment?  Why 
didn't  they  just  mail   (Continued  on  page  73) 


29 


n 


,  one  UM^yvjettaUt  day-  *&* 


'  6en, 


■uat  9^  tiat  Ae*t€Hc*  twuted  out  U  ic 

ten  «*«    CcacHf  -uhhh  in  TVa&HQto*-  &•  & 


old  Andrew  wo.  in  .... 
ttii'  plant,  but  kept  them  all 
I   from  hia  mother— "to 
ie'rl   have  a   perfect   MirpriBC* 


Second,  after  her  name  wa>  announrcd  „  a  Hint  Hum  winner  Mr*.  Copperthit 
found  that  the  program  had  moved  into  her  living  room.  will.  WTOl-.  Glen 
Taylor.   sp„„s„r-s    representative   John    Meyer-  and    pholo.raphcr.    by    the    dor,-, 

Engineer  Roy  Berhlol.  V7T0F  producer  UrrN  Becker- 
man,  announcer  Glenn  Taylor,  plus  equipment,  waited 
for  cue  in  the  basement  of  Mrs.  Coppetlhilo'i  building. 


It  Happened  0 


n 


BY   MAEJORIE 


MINE,  ALL  MINE!  A  brand  new  Ford  V-8 
deluxe  sedan,  .  .  .  except  that,  six  hours 
after  winning  the  handsome  car  via  CBS's 
Hint  Hunt  jingle  contest,  I  sold  it  and  ear- 
marked the  proceeds  for  medical  treatment  so 
that  one  day,  God  willing,  I  may  no  longer  need 
this  wheel-chair. 

Despite  the  shadow  cast  over  our  household 
by  my  affliction,  which  struck  without  warning 
in  1936,  we  who  occupy  this  Washington,  D.  C. 
apartment  usually  manage  to  keep  in  fairly 
good  spirits.  More  often  than  not  there's 
hearty  laughter  resounding  through  these  four 
rooms  .  .  .  laughter  sparked  by  the  naturally 
buoyant  humor  of  my  husky  16-year-old  son, 
Andrew. 

However,  a  new  high  in  happy  atmosphere 
and  excitement  was  reached  on  the  lucky  day, 
not  many  weeks  ago.  I'm  really  thankful  that 
a  weak  heart  isn't  part  of  my  ailment,  for  that 
momentous  Monday  was  keynoted  by  suspense. 
Actually,  the  suspense  set  in  three  days 
earlier,  on  Friday,  when  my  mother,  Mrs. 
Eunice  Crittenden,  was  away  working  at  her 

Hint  Hunt  in-  h«.rd  oir  the  C&S  M» 


Hint  Hunt 


COPPERTHITE 


office  in  downtown  Washington.  Andrew  was 
attending  school  and  only  my  great-aunt,  Mrs. 
Josephine  Whitcraft,  who  is  the  fourth  member 
of  our  household,  was  at  home  with  me.  I  had 
not  yet  risen  ...  in  fact,  rarely  do  I  leave  my 
specially-rigged  invalid's  bed  until  about  noon- 
time. The  door  buzzer  sounded  and  Aunt 
Josephine  answered  it.  I  heard  muffled  voices 
in  the  living  room.  Presently  Aunt  Josephine 
came  in,  her  lovable,  normally  calm  features 
wrinkled  in  an  expression  of  puzzlement. 

"Marjorie,"  she  whispered,  "there's  a  Mr. 
John  Meyer  out  there.  Says  he's  the  Washing- 
ton representative  of  Armour  and  Company." 

For  a  moment  my  expression  must  have 
appeared  quite  as  puzzled  as  Aunty's  .  .  .  then 
I  remembered  the  jingles  I'd  submitted  to  Hint 
Hunt  not  three  weeks  previous.  With  lively 
visions  of  a  cash  prize — maybe  even  the  fifty- 
dollar  one — being  ceremoniously  handed  to  me, 
I  tidied  up  in  record  time  and,  helped  by  Aunt 
Josephine,  switched  from  bed  to  wheel-chair. 

My  caller  was  a  genial  gentleman;  portly, 
dignified — and  cryptic!    After  a  few  preliminary 

V|°"<J«v  Aroutf,  Fr.rJ.y  .|,erfloon,  .«  4  EST. 


questions  aimed  at  verifying  that  I  was  really 
the  Marjorie  Copperthite  who  submitted  tin- 
jingles,  Mr.  Meyer  smiled  and  said,  "I  don't 
want  to  get  you  all  up  in  the  air,  Mrs.  Copper- 
thite, but  I  have  an  idea  you've  won  a  prize  " 

As  to  how  much  of  a  prize,  the  emissary  from 
Hint  HUnt  would  drop  nary  a  hint.  After  he'd 
left  us,  Aunt  Josephine  fairly  babbled  over  all 
the  possibilities.  This  was  no  mere  five  or  ten 
dollar  prize,  I  argued.  This  time,  I'd  hit  the 
jackpot  with  fifty  dollars  .  .  .  else  why  would 
they  send  a  personal  representative? 

In  the  midst  of  our  conjectures,  another  de- 
velopment unfolded.  I  received  a  post-card  in 
the  morning's  mail.  It  came  from  an  old  friend 
who  proudly  wrote  that  she  had  won  a  fifty- 
dollar  prize  from  Hint  Hunt.  Spurred  by 
curiosity,  I  picked  up  the  telephone  ana  called 
the  lucky  gai.  When  I  inquired  whether  she, 
too,  had  received  a  personal  visit  from  the  spon- 
sors of  that  program,  she  replied,  "Gosh,  no.  The 
check  for  fifty  came  by  mail." 

I  wondered:  why  this  special  treatment?  Why 
didn't  they  just  mail  (Continued  on  page  7.1) 


Like  most  New  Yorkers,  Irene  conies 
from  somewhere  else.   But  she  has  made 
herself  a  home  among  the  skyscrapers 

By  LLEWELLYN  MILLER 


Irene  came  to  New  York  to  sing  southern  songs,  but  she 
got  a  program  idea,  called  it  Grand  Slam  .  .  .  and  it  was. 


"TIHIS  IS  ridiculous!"  said  Irene  Beasley.  "Spring 

I  fever  in  the  spring  is  only  to  be  expected.  But 
spring  fever  in  August — in  October — in  Jan- 
uary— what  is  wrong  with  me?" 

Something  was  very  wrong.  There  was  no 
denying  that.  Not  with  her  career.  It  had  been  a 
happy  succession  of  engagements  ever  since  Victor 
had  brought  her  to  New  York  to  make  recordings 
of  southern  songs.  She  had  plenty  of  friends,  lots 
of  beaux  and  a  pretty  apartment  that  looked  north 
over  the  dramatic  towers  of  Manhattan  from  the 
smart  midtown  east  side. 

"Aren't  you  lucky  to  have  a  lease  on  this  perfect 
place!"  her  friends  said  enviously. 

"Yes  .  .  ."  Irene  answered  without  conviction 


30 


fi  n 


T  II 


IS  K  A  S II Y 


Coffee    for    three — Irene    pours    for    Dwight    Weist,    who's    part    of    Grand    Slam,    and    Mrs.    Weist — in    the    living 
room,  where  deep  green  walls  make  a  perfect  frame  for   the  small,  qniet  conversational  parties  Irene  likes  to   give. 


At  first  Irene  couldn't  find  a  place  in  the  sun — her 
apartment  faced  north.  But  a  quick  change  gave 
her  southern  exposure,  and  with  Anna  (opposite  page) 
in  charge,  the  place  is  a  haven  of  comfort 
for     Irene     and     her     apartment-mate     Janis     Andre. 


because  every  time  she  went  home  to  that  su- 
premely desirable  apartment  she  found  herself  in 
the  grip  of  an  impulse  to  get  away  from  it  as 
quickly  as  she  could.  And  she  found  herself  enter- 
taining the  wildly  impractical  thought,  "If  I  could 
only  turn  this  building  around  .  .  ." 

This  emotional  problem  was  solved,  not  by  visits 
to  a  psychiatrist,  but  by  the  simpler  expedient  of 
moving  to  the  south  side  of  the  building  where 
floods  of  sunlight  poured  in  all  day  long. 

Sunlight  and  air  are  a  passion  with  the  girl  who 
has  made  a  star  of  herself  under  show  business's 
synthetic  suns.  She  is  completely  happy  at  work 
in  the  spotlights  of  night  clubs,  of  vaudeville  and 
musical   comedy,    and   in    the   brilliant    flood    of 


k 


> 


P4 


On  free  days,  Irene  heads  for  Long  Island,  and  water. 
If  she  and  Janis  Andre  (below)  have  family  finances 
to    check,    they    do    it    over    lunch    at    the    beach    club. 


\^^<?#cgs  otto'    ^£riu~ 


indirect  light  that  bathes  her  radio  theater.  But, 
once  away  from  her  professional  enterprises,  she 
seeks  sun  and  air — at  home,  in  her  car,  or  at  the 
beach  club  that  is  home  away  from  home  for  her 
during  summer  weekends. 

Janis  Andre,  the  dancer  and  radio  actress,  shares 
the  apartment  in  town  and  is  responsible  for  its 
decoration.  She  also  is  from  the  south,  and  the 
families  were  friends  though  the  girls  did  not  know 
each  other  well  until  both  were  booked  on  the  same 
vaudeville  tour.  They  joined  forces  when  they 
returned  to  New  York. 

"We  wanted  two  bedrooms  when  I  moved,  but 
there  was  not  a  chance  with  the  way  the  housing 
situation  is  in  New  York.  I  was  lucky  to  be  able 
to  switch  to  the  sunny  side,"  says  Irene.  "So  Janis 
concentrated  on  giving  the  rooms  we  had  the  feeling 
of  space." 

Wedgewood  green — a  deep  quiet  shade — on  living 
room  and  foyer  walls  makes  the  heart  of  the  house 
a  cool,  airy  cave  high  above  the  hot  town  in  the 
summer,  and  a  spacious,  sun-splashed  retreat  in  the 
winter. 

The  kitchen,  domain  of  Anna  who  has  ruled  it  for 
the  last  four  years,  is  cheerful  white — no  competition 
from  color  there  to  the  perfect  beige  of  the  crust 
of  her  famous  biscuits,  the  pale  gold  of  her  southern 
chicken,  the  rich  brown  of  her  incomparable  Swiss 
Steak.    (Anna's  Swiss  Steak  recipe  is  on  page  87  ) 

Sprigged  wallpaper  in  the  bedroom,  four-poster 
beds,  ruffled  curtains  and  a  hand-knitted  counter- 
pane worthy  of  a  museum  are  a  contrast  to  the  more 
formal  living  room  and  add  to  the  effect  of  easy, 
comfortable  space.  A  closet-lined  corridor,  an  alcove 
with  a  desk  that  doubles  as  office  and  sideboard,  and 
a  formal  little  foyer  complete  the  background  for 
the  two  actresses  and  for  a  colony  of  canaries  num- 
bering four  at  the  last  census. 

"Bease,"  as  her  friends  call  her,  is  quite  the  last 
person  .in  all  of  radio  who  might  be  expected  to 
keep  canaries.  Somehow  bird-watching  does  not 
go  with  the  tall,  chic,  vivid,  vivacious  beauty  whose 
executive  abilities  have  made  her  producer,  direc- 
tor, star  and  master  of  ceremonies  of  her  own 
program. 

Bease  is  the  first  to  admit  that  she  was  vastly 
taken  aback  two  Christmases  ago  when  the  doorbell 
rang  and  one  small  perfect  yellow  bird  was  delivered 
in  a  minute  golden  cage.  Her  program,  Grand  Slam, 
was  barely  three  months  old,  and  she  was  working 
ten,  twelve,  fourteen  hours  a  day  to  get  it  under 
control.  In  addition  there  was  the  usual  stream  of 
friends  who  wanted  to  give  parties  to  celebrate  her 
success,  beaux  who  wanted  to  share  theater  tickets. 
Every  spare  moment  was  beleaguered  by  a  dozen 
demands  on  her  attention. 

"This  is  all  I  need — a  bird  to  take  care  of!"  she 
thought,  depositing  Pete's  cage  on  the  sunny 
window-sill  without  any  out-pouring  of  affection 
whatever. 

He  was  automatically  named  "Pete"  because  all 
of  her  pets  when  she  was  a  child  shared  that  name, 
but  before  she  quite  knew  how  it  happened  he  had 
won  for  himself  the  name  of  "Petie,"  was  sporting 

Irene  Beasley  and  Grand  Slam  are  heard 


IRENE  BEAti LEY 


around  in  a  new  and  far  more  commodious  cage, 
and  was  getting  fresh  water  in  the  morning  before 
Irene  had  her  own  coffee. 

Today  she  speaks  of  him  in  the  unabashed  lan- 
guage of  love. 

"Watching  Petie  and  his  gang  has  been  my  salva- 
tion a  hundred  times  when  I  was  too  tired  to  speak," 
she  says.  "So  much  goes  on,  and  on  such  a  high 
emotional  level!" 

The  first  thing  that  went  on  was  that  Petie  moulted 
and  lost  his  song.  Irene  rushed  delicacies  to  him 
which  he  ate  in  morose  silence.  He  grew  sleek  and 
quite  stout,  but  music  was  no  longer  in  him. 

"He  is  lonesome,"  decided  Irene,  and  she  found 
him  an  enchanting  little  bride  of  just  the  right  color 
for  $2.98.  "Females  are  inexpensive — when  it  comes 
to  birds,"  she  explains. 

Patsy  fell  wildly  in  love  with  Petie  at  first  sight, 
but  Petie  hated  her  from  the  start.  While  Patsy 
occupied  herself  with  building  a  nest  as  a  delicate 
hint  that  she  was  willing,  Petie  ruffled  his  feathers 
and  endured  her  blandishments  in  stony   silence. 

"Little  Patsy  and  her  nest  were  too  pathetic,"  says 
Irene.  "There  was  nothing  for  me,  who  hadn't 
wanted  any  canaries  in  the  first  place,  but  to  go 
back  to  the  pet  shop  and  get  her  a  husband — name 
of  Schmoe.  Pretty  soon  Patsy  had  four  eggs  and 
was  wearing  the  settled  look  of  the  happily  married. 
And  when  the  babies  hatched,  Petie  burst  into  song! 
He  instantly  became  the  indulgent  uncle,  and  could 
not  do  enough  for  them.  We  kept  one — Trilby — and 
Petie  leads  him  in  song  the  minute  Anna  turns  on 
my  show.  I  do  not  flatter  myself  that  it  is  my  voice 
he  likes.  It  is  just  the  music.  But  he  does  not  sing 
all  the  way  through  any  other  show!" 

If  you  were  to  visit  Irene  at  about  7:30  A.M. 
(which  would  be  very  unwise  of  you — "Woe  betide 
anyone  who  calls  me  before  I  have  my  coffee,"  she 
says)— -you  would  find  her  sitting  in  the  sun  on  the 
combination  steps  and  stool  in  her  kitchen  sipping 
coffee  and  knocking  down  the  challenges  of  the  day 
like  so  many  tenpins  in  her  mind. 

"That  is  the  time  I  get  my  clearest  thinking  done," 
she  says.  "Things  that  worried  me  the  night  before 
seem  to  have  found  their  answers  during  the  night, 
and  I  am  all  set  by  the  time  I  start  for  the  studio." 

If  the  weather  is  good,  she  strolls  the  few  blocks 
across  town  to  the  shining  plate  glass  and  chromium 
entrance  to  CBS  where  the  staff  is  ready  for  full 
rehearsal  of  songs  and  features  of  the  show  that  is 
to  go  on  at  11:30  EST. 

The  theater  fills  to  capacity  half  an  hour  before 
she  goes  on  the  air,  and  this  warm-up  period  is  a 
show  in  itself-  After  a  fight  lunch,  Irene  goes  back 
to  the  office  to  crowd  the  full  day's  work,  usually 
done  by  a  producer,  into  the  afternoon.  She  finishes 
about  seven.  By  that  time  she  is  happily  tired  and 
likes  best  of  all  to  go  home  to  Anna's  cooking. 
Frequently  there  are  guests  but  rarely  more  than 
three.  She  hates  big  parties.  When  she  dines  out 
she  likes  the  quieter  cafes  where  fine  food  and  low 
music  are  the  rule. 

Her  hours  of  work  and  those  of  Janis  Andre  do 
not  coincide,  but  they  make  (Continued  on  page  85) 

Monday  through  Fridty  at  11 :30  A.  M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


Petie  began  it;  after  him  came  all  the  other  canaries 
who  now  share  the  Beasley-Andre  quarters.  Below,  a 
script   sneaks   into   a   holiday;    but   that's    life   in   radio. 


•    • 


NINE  O'CLOCK 


ALAN  LADD 
•ft  Dan  Holiday 


AND  ALLS  WRONG 


2.'  Here  is  the  shop — dark,  crowded,  somehow  sinister  for 
the  clocks  that  fill  it  are  all  very  old.  And  presently  Dan 
cocks  an  ear  and  hears  .  .  .  only  silence.  All  of  the  clocks 
are  set  at  nine  o'clock,  and  all  of  them  have  stopped! 
How  in  the  world  is  he  to  decide  which  of  the 
clocks 


1.  To  Dan  Holiday,  writer— and  adventurer— comes  a 
letter  strangely  worded.  Secretary  Suzy  listens  as  he 
reads  aloud  directions  to  go  to  a  certain  antique  shop  and 
pick  up  a  particular  clock:  one  that  has  stopped  at  nine! 
Bat  adventure  is  Dan's  business;  he  gets  his  hat  and  goes. 


ADVENTURE  wanted.  Will  go 
any  place,  do  anything.  Write 

to  Box  13" This  ad  runs 

regularly  in  the  classified  section 
of  the  Star-Times,  and  brings  to 
the  desk  of  writer  Dan  Holiday 
exactly  what  he  is  looking  for — 
adventure.  Intelligent,  capable 
and  curious,  Dan's  excursions  into 
other  people's  troubles  have 
many  times  brought  him  close  to 
danger;  but  he  knows  how  to 
take  care  of  himself.  If,  occasion- 
ally, he  finds  himself  slightly  in- 
volved with  the  police — well, 
Dan's  always  on  the  right  side  of 
that  situation,  as  Lieutenant 
Kling  well  knows! 


Box  13.  starring  Alan  Ladd  as  Oan  Holi- 
day, is  heard  Wednesday  nights  at  9:30 
on  WOR,  and  on  local  stations  from  coast 
to     coast.       Sylvia     Picker     plays     Su2jy. 


3.  With  nobody  around  to  answer  his  questions,  Dan 
characteristically  decides  to  investigate.  Cautiously— for 
Dan  is  too  experienced  not  to  realize  that  he  has  been 
lured  into  a  threatening  situation — he  begins  to  explore 
the  dusty  stockrooms  at  the  back  of  the  mysterious  shop. 


35 


_ 


BOX  13... 


4.  Suddenly  he  stumbles,  and  draws  back.  At  his 
feet  is  the  crumpled-op  body  of  an  elderly  man, 
from  whose  hand  Dan  gently  takes  a  scrap  of  paper. 
Pondering  the  paper's  message — "nine  o'clock" — 
Dan  is  off  guard  long  enough  for  a  heavy 
antique     candlestick     to     dp     its     crushing     work. 


5.  When  Dan  revives,  he  faces  a  stranger  who  in- 
troduces himself  as  the  owner  of  the  shop.  "But  I 
thought  he  was  the  owner,"  Dan  says.  "Who?"  asks 
the  man,  •  and  Dan  turns  to  find  that  the 
body  has  vanished.  He  is  suspicious  of  the 
stranger,  but  cannot  be  sure  the  man  is  an  imposter. 


7.  With  the  "owner,"  Dan  re-investigales  the  shop, 
only  to  find  that  now  all  the  clocks  are  running — and 
all  show  different  times.  None  of  them  shows  nine 
o'clock.  However,  on  one  of  the  dusty  counters  Dan 
finds  a  round,  clean  spot.  Something  that  stood  there 
has  been  recently  removed.  Perhaps  .  .  .  the  clock? 


8.  Dan  raises  his  eyes  from  his  discovery — and  finds 
himself  facing  the  "owner's"  gun.  But  a  quick  ma- 
neuver changes  the  picture,  puts  the  gun  in  Dan's 
hand  with  the  cowering  impostor  at  his  mercy.  Now 
Dan  knows  the  missing  clock  must  be  valuable,  for 
by  giving  up  his  search  the  man  might  have  escaped. 


36 


NINE    O'CLOCK   AND    ALL'S   WRONG 


6.  Still,  Dan  decides,  no  bona  fide  dealer  in  valuable  curios  would  leave  his  shop  untended  and  unlocked. 
Picking  up  an  enameled  vase,  he  remarks  "This  is  a  handsome  piece;  16th-century  Florentine,  isn't  it?" 
"Why,  yes,"  says  the  stranger.  Then  Dan  turns  it  in  his  hand  and  says  coolly,  "Maybe  not,  though.  It  looks 
more  like  18th-century  French."  Confused,  the  stranger   turns  away  from  the  accusing  look  in  Dan's  eyes. 


9.  Dan  deduces,  from  the  fact  that  the  bogus  owner 
remained  on  the  premises  after  murdering  the  real 
owner  and  striking  Dan,  that  the  clock  must  still  be 
there  too.  After  strenuous  search,  he  finds  it  .  .  .  and 
finds,  too,  a  fortune  of  jewels  hidden  inside  it.  That's 
why  it  had  been  worth  murder  to  the  fake  owner! 


10.  To  a  bewildered  Suzy,  Dan  explains:  two  people 
knew  of  the  fortune  in  the  clock:  his  client,  and 
the  bogus  "owner."  Dan  arrived  too  late  to 
prevent  the  murder  of  the  real  owner,  too 
soon  to  allow  the  fake  owner  to  get  away 
with  the  jewels.    Now,  the  criminals  have  lost  out. 


37 


T 


* 


* 


To  let  the  neighbors  know 

how  the  yonngest  Lynch  boy — 

that's  Christopher — is  getting  on 


* 


'I 


I!  NEVER  kissed  the  Blarney  Stone,  but  I  think 
I'm  the  luckiest  Irishman  I  know.  I'm  the 
"Minstrel  Boy"  on  your  fine  American  pro- 
gram the  Voice  of  Firestone  Hour  and  on  (Co- 
lumbia Concerts — and  I've  just  bought  a  house 
in  America  for  my  family  and  me — and  after 
two  short  years  in  your  country,  I'm  beginning 
to  feel  quite  a  bit  American! 

Not  that  you'd  ever  guess  it  if  you  listened 
outside  our  house  ■  at  Valley  Stream,  Long 
Island,  near  New  York  City.  Of  course  thef 
house  looks  American:  it's  of  stone  and  woodj 
two  stories  high  and  with  a  deeply  eaved  roof.| 
But  the  sounds  coming  out  of  it  are  pure  Irish 
.  .  .  since  I  practice  five  hours  every  day,  at 
almost  any  time  you  could  hear  me  roaring  out 
my  two  favorite  tunes,  "Down  by  the  Glenside," 
or  "All  in  an  April  Evening."  If  you  saw  me 
through  the  windows  you  might  get  quite  a 
shock — for  I'm  afraid  I  don't  look  like  the  classic 
Irish  tenor  of  tradition  at  all. 

No,  I  stand  in  the  music  room  behind  my 
accompanist,  facing  the  great  picture  I  have  of 
Ireland's  fine  singer  John  McCormack — whose 
protege,  I  am  proud  to  say,  I  am.  But  you'd 
probably  be  quite  dejected  once  you  shifted 
your  attention  from  Mr.  McCormack's  fine  face 
to  me.  For  I  usually  practice  with  my  collar 
off — I  wear  detachable  ones — and  I  gesture  with 
a  coke  bottle  which  I  drink  from  in  between 
bars.  Or  else  I  wave  the  core  of  an  apple  I  just 
finished  eating.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  a  piece  of 
apple  is  usually  tucked  in  my  cheek  while  I 
sing! 

However,  if  this  picture  of  a  tenor  is  sadden- 
ing, a  peek  into  the  living  room  next  door  to 
the  music  room  would  cheer  you  up  no  end.. 
For  there  are  the  three  lights  of  my  life:  my 
lovely  Irish  wife  Dympna,  my  handsome  laddie 
Brian,  and  my  tiny  lass  Marese — together  with 
the  Irish  nurse  Miss  Fitzgerald,  who  is  still  so 
befuddled  by  America  that  she  won't  take  a 
day  off.  (Whenever  she  does,  she  gets  lost!) 
Yes,  it's  a  nice  family  scene,  and  in  a  nice 
setting.  We  bought  the  furniture  with  the  house, 
but  our  own  mementoes  are  around  to  make  it 
Irish — the  crucifix  that  has  been  in  my  wife's 


Hear  Christopher  Lynch  on  the  Voice 
of  Firestone,  Monday  nights  at  8:30 
EST,  on  stations  of  the  NBC  network. 


family  for  years,  and  the  firearms  and  pictures 
of  horses  that  I  brought  with  me  from  Ireland. 
You'd  think,  looking  at  all  this,  that  we'd  ad- 
justed ourselves  well  to  America.  And  so  we 
have.  But  less  than  two  years  ago,  when  we 
arrived,  things  were  far  different! 

I'll  never  forget  my  first  Christmas  in  your 
enormous  country.  That  was  Christmas  almost 
two  years  ago,  and  Dympna  and  I  had  only 
arrived  three  months  earlier.  We  were  then 
staying  in  a  New  York  hotel,  so  when  Christ- 
mas time  came  I  forced  myself  to  go  out  and 
be  buffeted  around  in  the  pack  of  people  on 
Fifth  Avenue.  But  only  for  a  couple  of  hours. 
I  couldn't  get  near  a  counter  for  the  crowds, 
and  the  more  stores  I  went  into  the  further 
away  I  was  from  buying  my  wife's  Christmas 
present.  So  I  finally  thought,  "Ah!  The  corner 
drug  store  near  our  hotel!  American  drug 
stores  have  everything  one  would  want,  any- 
way!" 

All  invigorated  by   (Continued  on  page  88) 


Valley     Stream     is     his     home,     American     radio     his 
outlet,     but     Christopher     is     still     an     Irish     singer. 


39 


V 


Red  Barber,  1.,  anil  Connie  Desmond 
—together,     Mr.     Dodger     to     fans. 


Tmmt 


Tired  of  baseball?  Not  the 
Barber  and  Desmond  families!  It's 
as  much  a  part,  as  important 
a  part,  of  their  lives  as  eating 


Sarah  Barber  practices  with  Mother,  but 
her   thoughts   are   definitely   elsewhere. 

WHENEVER  and  wherever  there's  a  Brooklyn 
Dodgers'  baseball  game,  Red  Barber  and  Connie 
Desmond  are  on  hand  to  bring  radio  listening 
fans  at  home  a  play-by-play  description.  And  when- 
ever and  wherever  there's  Red  and  Connie,  the  Bar- 
ber and  Desmond  wives  and  children  are  on  hand, 
too — no  baseball  widows  and  orphans  they! 

During  the  season  the  Desmonds  and  the  Barbers 
eat,  breathe  and  live  baseball,  and  when  there's  no 
game  to  give  them  a  common  interest,  a  warm 
friendship  serves  just  as  well.  The  women  are 
friends  of  long  standing — they  shop  together,  are 
frequent  visitors  at  each  other's  homes,  act  as  un- 
official godmothers  to  each  other's  children — which 
often  means  unexpected  presents  for  Kathy  and  Jim 
Desmond  and  Sarah  Barber.  The  children  have  as 
active  an  interest  in  baseball  as  their  parents.  That 
picture  of  Sarah  Barber  practicing  piano,  for  in- 
stance: it's  deceptive.  She's  probably  wondering 
how  soon  she  can  get  away  and  resume  baseball 
practice  with  the  neighborhood  boys! 

Of  course,  the  Barbers  and  the  Desmonds  are  all 
interested  in  other  sports  as  well,  just  as  the  heads 
of  the  families  are — especially  the  Barbers,  for  Red 
is  year-around  Director  of  Sports  for  CBS. 


u 


Mother's  reading  is  fine  with  the  young 
Desmonds — when    there's    no    baseball! 


\i& 


A    fortifying    pie-game 


Will  it  go  foul?    Baseball's  serious, 
if  your  name  is  Desmond  or  Barber! 


The  day's  big  thrill — autographs  all 
around  from  Dodger  star  Hermanski. 


41 


T 


tykwiewt 


Tired  of  baseball?  Not  the 
Barber  and  Desmond  families!  It's 
as  much  a  part,  as  important 
a  part,  of  their  lives  as  eating 


Sarah  Barber  practices  with  Mother,  but 
her   thoughts   are   definitely  elsewhere. 

WHENEVER  and  wherever  there's  a  Brooklyn 
Dodgers'  baseball  game,  Red  Barber  and  Connie 
Desmond  are  on  hand  to  bring  radio  listening 
fans  at  home  a  play-by-play  description.  And  when- 
ever and  wherever  there's  Red  and  Connie,  the  Bar- 
ber and  Desmond  wives  and  children  are  on  hand, 
too — no  baseball  widows  and  orphans  they! 

During  the  season  the  Desmonds  and  the  Barbers 
eat,  breathe  and  live  baseball,  and  when  there's  no 
game  to  give  them  a  common  interest,  a  warm 
friendship  serves  just  as  well.  The  women  are 
friends  of  long  standing — they  shop  together,  are 
frequent  visitors  at  each  other's  homes,  act  as. un- 
official godmothers  to  each  other's  children — which 
often  means  unexpected  presents  for  Kathy  and  Jim 
Desmond  and  Sarah  Barber.  The  children  have  as 
active  an  interest  in  baseball  as  their  parents.  That 
picture  of  Sarah  Barber  practicing  piano,  for  in- 
stance: it's  deceptive.  She's  probably  wondering 
how  soon  she  can  get  away  and  resume  baseball 
practice  with  the  neighborhood  boys! 

Of  course,  the  Barbers  and  the  Desmonds  are  all 
interested  in  other  sports  as  well,  just  as  the  heads 
of  the  families  are — especially  the  Barbers,  for  Red 
is  year-around  Director  of  Sports  for  CBS. 


Mother's  reading  is  fine  with  the  young 
Desmonds — when    there's    no    baseball ! 


A    fortifying    P»P* 


mack  at  the  Press  Club 


Will  it  go  foul?    Baseball'*  serious, 
if  your  name  is  Desmond  or  Barber! 


The  day's  big  thrill — autographs  all 
around  from  Dodger  star  Hermaniiki. 


*^ftl 


Radio  Mirror's  Best  Poem  of  the  Month 

MY  WISH  FOR  YOU 

The  best  I  wish  for  you  is  not  the  wealth 
That  men  may  store  against  a  rainy  day; 
Time  is  a  thief  most  cunning  in  his  stealth 
Who  will  but  doom  your  riches  to  decay. 
I  would  not  wish  for  you  the  proudest  name 
That  man  can  cry  aloud,  to  curse  or  bless. 
Nor  would  I  wish  you  any  meed  of  fame 
Lest  fame  departing  leave  you  loneliness. 

This  is  my  deepest  wish — that  you  may  know 
The  warm,  true  comradeship  that  satisfies 
The  seeking  heart  and  sets  the  mind  aglow — 
A  bright  communion,  eloquent  and  wise. 
The  best  I  wish  you  is  a  steadfast  friend 
To  wdlk  beside  you  till  the  journey's  end. 

— Sydney  King  Russell 


*ii^l  I 


SHH '.  .  .  HH  .  .  . 

She  looks  beneath  her  bed  before  retiring, 
Draws  all  the  shades  and  closes  tight  the 

house. 
Makes  certain  the  shotgun  is  cocked  for 

firing 
And  sets  a  trap  for  some  intruding  mouse'. 

Then,  turning  out  all  lights,  and.  snuffing 
.    candles, 

(Her  breath  held  in  as  if  afraid  to  sneeze,) 
She  walks  to  a  dark  room  on  padded  sandals 
And  listens  to  the  program:    "Quiet 
Please  .  .  ." 

— Rosa  Zagnoni  Marinoni 


RADIO  MIRROR   WILL  PAY 


for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a 
reader.  Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other 
original  poem  used  on  the  Between  the  Bookends 
pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  and 
address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42, 
N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed,  every 
effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry 
for  Radio  Mirror's  Bookends  pages. 


TO  W, 

Oh,  long  ago  I  put  your  love  away 
At  though  it  were  a  jewel,  lost  to  sight 
Deep  in  a  hidden  corner  of  my  heart, 
And  yet  the  memory  is  warm  and  bright. 

All  through  the  long  green  days  of  Spring 
It  lies  in  wraithlike  mist . . .  obscure  ... 

remote  . . . 
But  when  October  flames,  I  lift  it  out 
And  wear  its  scarlet  splendor  at  my  throat. 
—Jean  Walter 


Verses  for  October,  to  catch  the  last  brilliant 


■ 


*■■ 


<•    "t 

'•-    "  ' 

.  tt*t/ 


*  '•  J 


IN  BOLD  RELIEF 
Sundays,  from  ether  days,  are  different, 
They  seem  ta  stand  out  en  the  calendar;  ■ 
Brighter  than  week-days,  and  more  slowly 

spent, 
As  things  of  value  usually  are. 
At  first  this  was  the  day  when  I  could  wear 
My  "best  dress,"  and  could  go  to  Sunday 

school. 
And  later  it  was  welcomed,  foul  or  fair, 
As  holiday,  freed  from  scholastic  rule. 
Then  that  first  row  of  numbers  seemed  to 

shout 
"This  is  the  day  he  comes  to  see  me!"  .  . . 

Now— 
There  is  no  reason  why  they  should  stand 

out 
From  any  hum-drum  week-day,  yet  some- 
how 
Because  of  other  days  and  moons  and 

stars- 
All  Sundays  shine  a  bit  on  calendars. 
— Isla  Paschal  Richardson 


I  HAD  FORGOTTEN 

d  forgotten  it  could  be  like  this; 
poet's  rhyme  .  .  .  soft  spoken 
words  that  sing 

Of  silken  rhapsodies  ...  a  breath- 
less kiss  .  .  . 

A  night  that  lingers  with  remember- 
ing. 

I  had  forgotten  that  my  heart  could 
beat 

Like   dark   men's   drums  beneath   a 
restless  moon, 

And  then  you  came  and  breathed  a 
dream  complete 

With  stars  and  laughter  drugged 
with  madness.    Soon 

Again  I  shall  know  music  rich 
beyond 

The  hour  .  .  .  and  peace,  like  rain, 
typing  welcome 

Upon  my  roof.  A  clear  but. vagabond 

Perfection  shimmers  and  the  pendu- 
lum 

Of  love  becomes  the  cycle  of  a  sigh. 

I  said  I  had  forgotten — but  had  I? 
— Ruby  Diehr 

WBmBBSSSBmmS^tBBSmSSm 


FARM  WIFE 

There  are  so  many  things  that  I'd  be  saying 
If  you  could  hear  my  heart  'way  out  of  doors; 
I  think  of  how  I  love  you,  while  you're  haying, 
Or  plowing  fields,  or  doing  evening  chores. 

And  after  choretime,  when  you  come  in  weary, 
I  think  of  tender  things  I'd  like  to  say, 
But  I  just  say,  "The  fire  feels  mighty  cheery." 
Or,  "My!  it's  been  just  like  a  summer's  day." 

My  heart  knows  all  the  love  words  poets  treasure 
But  I  can't  seem  to  say  them,  though  I  try, 
So  when  I  love  you  more  than  I  can  measure, 
I  scrub  the  floor,  or  bake  an  apple  pie.. 

— Marylu  Terral  Jeans 


SHOCK 
In  all  of  life's  emergencies 
One  shock  I  label  GOOD 
The  time  the  local  plumber  came 
The 'day  he  said  he  would. 

—Helena  K.  Beacham 


AUTUMN  NIGHT 
In  whirring  flight 

A   frightened   quail 
Shatters  the  stillness 

Along  the  trail. 
The  weeds  grow  high 

Where    our    path    once    led; 
The    orchard   is    barren — 

The  grass  is  dead    .    .    . 

But  my  thoughts   of   you 

Are  living  things, — 
Shining   moths 

With  eternal  wings. 
Blazing  a  pathway 

Of  clean,  white  light 
Through  the  shadowed  hours 

Of  an  autumn  night. 

— Rowena    Che: 


flaring  of  color  before  the  world  turns  white 


4 


nun 


APOLOGY  IN  AUTUMN 
Forgive  my  heart  for  so  much  golden 

weather, 
For  moon-mist   and   a'  river   full   of 

stars ; 
For    small    leaf-secrets   and    a    red- 
wing's feather; 
A  gypsy  camp  and  fiddles   and 

guitars. 
Forgive  my  heart  for  so  much  Indian 

summer, 
'     For  fields  moon-eyed  with  pumpkins 

and  with  squashes; 
For  listening  to  the  weather's  tree- 
top  drummer 
While  walking  you  in  rain  without 

galoshes. 
Forgive  my  heart  for  so  much 

autumn  hunger — 
(I   love  you  but  I  love   the  season 

too) ; 
For  feeling  gayer,  giddier  and 

younger 
Than  I  have  any  right  or  reason  to. 
Forgive  me  and  I  promise  to  be 

sober 
And    sane    and    sweet    again — after 

October. 

— Cosette  Middleton 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  program  Monday 
through  Friday  mornings  at 
11:45  EST  on  ABC  stations. 


.^m 


~ML' 


»  •»■ 


HM 


KADIO   MIRROR   WILL  PAY  $50 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a 
reader.  Five  dollars  will  be  paid  for  each  other 
original  poem  used  on  the  Between  the  Bookends 
pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  and 
address  to  Ted  Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42, 
N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  enclosed,  every 
effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts. 
This  is  not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry 
for  Radio  Mirror's  Bookends  pages. 


Radio  Mirror'*  Sett  Poem  of  the  Month 

MY  WISH  FOR  YOU 
The  best  I  wish  lor  you  is  not  the  wealth 
That  men  may  store  against  a  rainy  day; 
Time  Is  a  thief  most  cunning  in  his  stealth 
Who  will  but  doom  your  riches  to  decay 
I  would  not  wish  for  you  the  proudest  name 
That  man  can  cry  aloud,  to  curse  or  bless 
Nor  would  I  wish  you  any  meed  of  fame ' 
Lest  tamo  departing  leave  you  loneliness 

This  is  my  deepest  wish— that  you  may  ]tnow 
The  warm,  true  comradeship  that  satisfies 
^        The  seeking  heart  and  sets  the  mind  aglow 
A  bright  communion,  eloquent  and  wise.       "~* 
The  best  I  wish  you  is  a  steadfast  friend 
To  walk  beside  you  till  the  journeys  end 

—Sydney  King  Russell 


SHH  .  .  .  HH  .  .  . 

She  looks  beneath  her  bed  before  retiring 
Draws  all  the  shades  and  closes  tight  the 

house. 
Makes  certain  the  shotgun  is  cocked  for 

firing 
And  sets  a  trap  for  some  intruding  mouse'. 

Then,  turning  out  all  lights,  and 

candles, 
{Her  breath  held  in  as  if  afraid  to  sneezej 
She  walks  to  a  dark  room  on  padded  sandals 
And  listens  to  the  program:    "Qui  i 


—Rosa  Zagnoni  Marinoni 


TO  W. 


Oh,  long  "go  I  put  your  love  away 
At  though  It  were  a  jewel,  lest  to  sight 
Deep  In  a  hidden  corner  of  my  heart. 
And  yet  the  memory  It  warm  and  bright. 

Alt  through  the  long  green  days  of  Spring 
II  lies  in  wrorthllke   mist  . , .  obscure  ,  . . 

But  when  October  flames,  I  lift  It  out 
And  wear  Its  scarlet  splendor  at  my  throat. 
—Jean  Walter 


Verses  for  October,  to   catch  the  last  brilliant 


A 


IN  BOLD  RELIEF 

Sundays,  from  other  days,  are  different. 
They  seem  to  stand  out  on  the  calendar; 
Brighter  than  week-days,  and  more  slowly 

spent. 
As  things  of  value  usually  are. 
At  first  this  was  the  day  when  I  could  wear 
My  "best  dress,"  and  could  go  to  Sunday 

school. 
And  later  it  wot  welcomed,  foul  or  fair. 
As  holiday,  freed  from  scholastic  rule. 
Then  thai  first  row  of  numbers  seemed  to 

shout 
"This  Is  the  day  ha  comes  to  see  me!"  . . . 

Now — 
There  Is  no  reason  why  they  should  stand 

out 
From  any  hum-drum  week-day,  yet  some- 
how 
Because  of  olher  days  and  moons  and 

stars- 
All  Sundays  shine  a  bit  on  calendars. 
— Isla  Paschal  Richardson 


I  HAD  FORGOTTEN 

I  had  forgotten  it  could  be  like  this; 

A  poet's  rhyme  .  .  .  soft  spoken 
words  that  sing 

Of  silken  rhapsodies  ...  a  breath- 
less kiss  .  .  . 

A  night  that  lingers  with  remember- 
ing. 

I  had  forgotten  that  my  heart  could 
beat 

Like  dark   men's  drums  beneath   a 
restless  moon, 

And  then  you  came  and  breathed  a 
dream  complete 

With  stars  and  laughter  drugged 
with  madness.    Soon 

Again   1   shall  know   music  rich 
beyond 

The  hour  .  .  .  and  peace,  like  rain, 
typing  welcome 

Upon  my  roof.  A  clear  but. vagabond 

Perfection  shimmers  and  the  pendu- 
lum 
Of  love  becomes  the  cycle  of  a  sigh. 
1  said  I  had  forgotten— but  had  I? 
— Ruby  Diehr 


T,  FARM  WIFE 

My  hean_k.nc.ws  all  ,he  love  words  pot*  treasure 
«ut  1  can  t  seem  to  say  them,  though  I  try 

i  n  nil.  the  floor,  or  bake  an  apple  pie. 

— Marylu  Terral  Jeans 


SHOCK 

In  oil  of  life's  emergencies 
One  shock  I  label  GOOD 
The  Hme  the  local  plumber  came 
The  day  he  said  he  would. 

— Helena  K.  Beacham 


AUTUMN  NIGHT 
In  whirring  flight 

A  frightened  quail 
Shatters  the  stillness 

Along  the  trail. 
The  weeds  grow  high 

Where    our    path    once    led; 
The    orchard    is    barren — 

The  gross  is  dead    .    .    . 

But  my   thoughts  of  you 

Are  living  things, — 
Shining    moths 

With  eternal  wings, 
Blazing  a  pathway 

Of  clean,  white  light 
Through  the  shadowed  hours 

Of  an  autumn  night. 

— Rowena   Cheney 


flaring  of   color   before   the   world    turns   white 


APOLOGY  IN  AUTUMN 

Forgive  my  heart  for  so  much  gulden 

weather, 
For  moon-mist  and  .i  river  full  of 

stars; 
For    small    leaf-secrets   nnd    a    red- 
feather; 
A   gypsy   camp  and  fiddles  and 

guitars, 
Forgive  my  bean  for  so  much  Indian 

summer. 
For  fields  moon-eyed  with  pumpkins 

and  with  squashes  | 

For  listening  to  the  weather's  tree- 
top  drummer 

While  walking  you  in  rain  without 
galoshes. 

Forgive    my   heart    for   so   much 

autumn  hunger — 
ll    love    you    but    I    love    the 

loo); 
For  feeling  gayer,  giddier  and 

younger 
Than  I  have  any  right  or  reason  to. 
forgive  me  and   I   promise   to   be 

sober 

And  sane  and  sweet  again-  -after 
October. 

OSette  Middlelori 


Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Ma  lone'*  program  Monday 
through  Friday  mornings  ul 
11:45  EST  on  ABC  station*,. 


^*V 


By 
TOMMY 

BARTLETT 

Tommy  Bartle tt  is  m.c. 
of  Welcome  Travelers, 
heard  at  12  Noon  on 
ABC  network  stations. 


OTHER  members  of  Elsie  Voight's  family 
grow  roots.  They  own  houses,  rear 
children,  establish  bank  accounts  and 
identify  themselves  with  a  single  commu- 
nity, says  our  Traveler  of  the  Month. 

But  Elsie  Voight  calls  the  world  her 
home,  her  skill  as  a  linguist,  accountant 
and  stenographer  her  wealth,  and  the  peo- 
ple of  every  land  her  brothers. 

We  were  flattered  when  she  made  Wel- 
come Travelers  her  first  stop  on  returning 
from  a  trip  which  had  taken  her  to  China 
as  field  auditor  for  UNRRA,  and  which  had 
circled  the  globe  before  it  ended.  She  was 
bound  for  her  parents'  residence  at  Home- 
wood,  Illinois. 

There  was  a  temptation,  that  day,  to 
spend  the  whole  program  interviewing 
Elsie,  for  her  addresses  during  the  past 
twenty  years  have  read  like  the  index  to 
an  atlas.  Bogota  .  .  .  Chungking  .  .  .  Jo- 
hannesburg .  .  .  Peiping  .  .  .  Quito  .  .  . 
Zambesi  River. 

Driven  by  a  burning  desire  to  know  the 
face  of  the  earth  as  others  know  a  small 
town,  she  stays  in  one  city  only  long  enough 
to  earn  passage  to  the  next  destination.  She 
fills  two  bags  with  a  suit,  a  pair  of  slacks, 
a  lot  of  blouses,  two  sweaters,  a  long-sleeved 
black  street  dress,  a  short-sleeved  black 
afternoon  dress  and  a  black  lace  formal, 
and  she's  ready  for  anything  from  crossing 
a  jungle  on  foot  to  presiding  as  hostess  at 
the  captain's  table  on  a  big  liner. 

What's  more,  she  has  that  gift,  usually 
found  only  among  the  top  wire  service 
correspondents,  of  arriving  in  a  city  just  at 
the  moment  it  becomes  important  in  world 
news. 

Slender,  soft-voiced  Elsie  Voight  told  me, 
"Tommy,  it  was  the  depression  that  turned 


me  into  a  world  traveler.   I  couldn't  find  a 
job  here,  so  I  went  abroad." 

She  started  at  the  beginning,  and  told  me" 
her  springboard  to  adventure  had  been  a 
trip  to  Minneapolis — 500  miles  away — just 
after  she  was  graduated  from  Chicago's 
Hyde  Park  high  school.  She  had  once  had 
a  vacation  job  as  bookkeeper  at  the  YMCA 
college  and  camp  at  Lake  Geneva,  Wiscon- 
sin, so  on  arrival  at  Minneapolis,  it  was 
natural  she  should  ask  the  Y  for  work.  To 
explore  the  area  thoroughly,  '  she  also 
worked  at  the  St.  Paul  Y.  Next  jump  was' 
San  Francisco  and  Los  Angeles.  She  had 
her  eye  on  Honolulu,  but  her  family  ob- 
jected and  she  returned  home. 

The  boom  of  the  twenties  was  well  under 
way,  and  Elsie  soon  saw  it  from  the  vantage 
point  of  one  of  the  nation's  leading  law 
firms  located  at  the  corner  of  Nassau  and 
Wall  Street,  in  the  heart  of  New  York's 
financial  section.  Big-name  clients  made 
news  every  day  on  the  stock  market.  Elsie 
liked  being  backstage  at  the  greatest  drama 
of  that  decade. 

She  spent  every  leisure  moment  sight- 
seeing. After  a .  year,  she  felt  she  knew 
New  York  well  enough,  and  more  sights 
lay  beyond  its  harbor.  She  went  to  Ber- 
muda first,  then  to  England,  Belgium, 
Holland,  Germany  and  France. 

Returning  to  Chicago,  she  stayed  long 
enough  to  add  Northwestern  University 
credits  to  those  she  had  previously  acquired 
at  the  University  of  Chicago,  University  of 
California,  and  New  York  University,  tak- 
ing a  bachelor's  degree  in  accounting  in 
1928. 

Then  came  the  crash.  "That  deflated  the 
market  value  of  my  new  diploma  just  as 
surely  as  it  burst  the  bubble  of  the  real 


<tJAe  tfwvil ~  cl'zyflamo  cfcio-  amcteA  mib  foa/imtwh  &6fa==Hile&we  aw-  wmmfsdae 


44 


estate  firm  for  which  I  worked,"  Elsie  ex- 
plained. "I  scrambled  for  jobs.  Annual  cuts 
replaced  annual  raises,  and  I  could  see  no 
reason  for  remaining  in  Chicago." 

There  were  those  in  our  Welcome  Trav- 
elers audience  who  knew  exactly  what  she 
meant.  You  could  tell  by  their  expressions 
they  remembered  those  days  too  well. 

Elsie  started  saving  money  for  passage. 
Since  her  regular  position  paid  eight  dol- 
lars a  week,  she  found  an  additional  evening 
job  to  increase  her  income.  When  her  little 
hoard  of  dollars  equalled  the  price  of  a 
one-way  ticket  to  Honolulu,  she  set  out. 
She  had  many  jobs  during  her  two  years 
in  Hawaii.  She  recalls  that  when  she  ap- 
plied for  one,  a  man  inquired,  "Why  did 
you  leave  the  States?" 

"Because  there  was  a  depression,"  Elsie 
replied  promptly. 

"What,"  asked  the  man,  "do  you  think 
we're  having  here?" 

But  depression  or  no  depression,  Elsie 
found  firms  that  needed  letters  written  and 
books  kept.  Salaries  were  small,  but  even- 
tually she  saved  enough  for  a  one-way  fare 
to  Manila.  She  wanted  to  go  to  China,  but 
with  only  sufficient  money  for  one-way 
passage,  she  had  to  buy  her  ticket  to  an 
American  port  to  obtain  a  visa. 

That  visa,  however,  permitted  her  to  stop 
off  at  Japan.  It  was  a  fairyland  place  in 
those  days,  she  remembers.  A  little  island, 
little  people  and  small  prices  when  one 
toured  the  country  third  class  and  stopped 
at  native  inns.  And  their  ferocious  dream 
of  world  power  was  covered  up  by  tidy 
little  manners.    ■ 

Best  of  all,  it  was  just  a  short  distance 
to  Shanghai  where  she  became  secretary  to 
the  president  of  the  (Continued  on  page   92) 


y, 


Elsie  Voight  is  wearing 
her  treasures:  Chinese 
robe,  Brazilian  rings, 
bracelets  from  Trinidad. 


5* 


//* 


^, 


.«• 


*V 


1 


\  bfacmav  AeofUe 


U$ 


Th  COAST 


Shave  Cogan  and  Johnny  Desmond  in  a  dressy  number  for  Face 
the  Music,  their  Mon.  through  Fri.  CBS-TV  show,  7:15  P.M.  EST. 


On  Swing  Into  Sports  (WABD,  Mondays  at  8  P.M.  EST),  Chuck 
Tranum  and  Johnny  Farrell  okay  Wendy  Barrie's  follow  through. 


Ben  Crauer  conducts  an  alert  panel  of  participants  in  his   Amer- 
icana quii,  heard  and  seen  on  WNBT,  Mondays  at  8:30  P.M.  EST. 


Playing  Rube  Goldberg's  Drawing  Game,  along  with  the  vide 


DUMONT  is  conducting  an  interesting  show  over 
WABD  in  New  York  and  WNHC-TV  in  New 
Haven,  Connecticut.  It's  called  Key  to  Missing 
Persons  and  is  aired  on  Sundays  from  6  to  6:30 
P.M.  The  star  of  the  program  is  Archdale  J.  Jones, 
expert  in  the  work  of  re-uniting  people  long  sep- 
arated. Most  of  the  cases  dealt  with  on  the  series 
do  not  involve  crime  or  felony,  and  are  not  the 
kind  which  normally  come  under  police  jurisdic- 
tion. 


Colonel  Stoopnagle,  long  a  radio  favorite,  made 
his  television  debut  with  a  show  called  Colonel 
Stoopnagle's  Stoop.  Said  stoop  gave  the  irrepres- 
sible Colonel  a  meeting  place  for  a  wide  variety  of 
characters  with  whom  he  could  exchange  his  pecu- 
liar brand  of  wacky  chatter.  Television  gives  him 
the  opportunity  to  demonstrate  his  famous  "in- 
ventions" as  well  as  talk  about  them. 
♦        *        * 

Anyone  who  doubts  that  1948  was  television's 
year  to  howl — take  note  that  on  October  1st  pre- 
mium time  (6  to  10:30  at  night)  will  be  $1,000  an 


RADIO 


MIRROR 


\ 


kome  audience  (WPIX,  Tnes.,  8  P.M.  EST),  a  breathless  quartet. 


hour  over  the  NBC  television  network.    It  was 
only  $400  an  hour  a  year  ago! 

*  *        * 

Credit  Adelaide  Hawley  (whom  we  wrote  about 
in  the  August  issue)  and  her  Fashions  on  Parade 
video  show  for  bringing  Procter  and  Gamble,  one 
of  the  five  largest  advertisers  in  America,  to  tele- 
vision. P  &  G  signed  a  49- week  contract  to  start  at 
the  end  of  July,  and  have  been  advertising  Prell 
and  Ivory  Snow.  Video  needs  more  companies 
that  have  large  advertising  budgets,  so  that  pro- 
grams can  improve  more  rapidly. 

*  *        * 

One  exciting  television  possibility,  still  in  the  ex- 
perimental stage,  is  "Stratovision"  or  television  re- 
layed from  an  airplane — five  miles  up.  The  plane 
circles  and  picks  up  a  program  transmitted  from  a 
ground  station;  it  then  relays  that  program  to 
televiewers  on  the  ground  within  an  area  400  miles 
in  diameter.  Since  television  now  can  only  be 
thrown  50  miles,  stratovision  is  revolutionary. 

*  *         * 

Elsa  Maxwell,  world-    (Continued  on  page  97) 


STAN  SHAW,  whose  Milk- 
man's Matinee  is  a  radio 
standby,  now  goes  into 
WPIX  television  with  an- 
other disc  show,  Record 
Rendezvous  (7: 05  P.M.  EST, 
Mon.-Wed.-Fri.).  He  calls 
it  a  "record  variety  show 
with  live  guest  stars,",  and 
says  his  tele-hours  are  the 
hardest  he's  ever  worked 
since  entering  radio  in  1925. 
Stan's  forty-ish,  married  to 
a  lovely  ex-model. 


JOHNNIE    STEARNS 

writes,  directs,  produces,  acts 
in  husband-and-wife  show 
Mary  Kay  and  Johnnie,  on 
WARD  Tues.,  7:15  P.M. 
EST.  Rent  on  acting,  he 
rushed  to  Hollywood  after 
his  Roston  schooldays,  to 
find  that  his  resemblance 
to  (a)  Lloyd  Nolan  and  (b) 
Humphrey  Rogart  stood  in 
the  way  of  any  real  success 
there.  Rack  in- the  East,  he 
hit  Rroadway  with  parts  in 
"One  Touch  of  Venus,"  "On 
The  Town,"  "Are  You  With 
It?"  And  he  did  better  in 
Eastern-made  movies,  get- 
ting involved  one  way  or 
another  in  "Roomerang," 
"Kiss  of  Death,"  "Carnegie 
Hall,"  "Miracle  on  34th 
Street,"  "Portrait  of  Jenny" 
— all  made  in  New  York. 


AL  SCHACHT,  as  Clown 
Prince  of  Raseball,  has  per- 
formed before  sixty  million 
people  in  forty  years,  ex- 
pects to  double  that  on  tele 
through  The  Al  Schacht 
Show  (WNRT,  five  minutes 
before  every  Giants  base- 
ball game  from  Polo 
Grounds).  He  has  clowned 
at  most  World  Series  games 
since  1921,  written  two 
books-.  Al  Schacht  owns  a 
new  52nd  Street  restaurant. 


IRENE  MURPHY,  only  23, 
boasts  more  video  hours 
than  any  girl  in  the  busi- 
ness. (It's  characteristic  of 
the  infant  industry  that  its 
veterans  should  be  young- 
sters in  their  20s!)  Starting 
with  WARD's  Cash  and 
Carry,  she .  transferred  last 
year  to  RCA-Television 
Caravan,  which  introduced 
television  to  large  depart- 
ment stores  across  the 
country.  Pretty,  brown- 
haired  "Murph"  is  busy 
packaging  her  own  video 
program,  readying  it  for  a 
debut  which  should  be  tak- 
ing place  early  in  the  very 
important   coming  season. 


T   E   L   E   V   I    S   I 


EC    T   I    0    N 


» 


».  *  4 


-77*  ^U? 


Shnyc  Cogan  and  Johnny  Desmond  in  a  dressy  number  for  Face 
the  Music,  their  Mon.  through  Fri.  CBS-TV  show,  7:15  P.M.  EST. 


On  Swing  Into  Sports   (WABD,  Mondays  at  8  P.M.  EST),  Chuck 
Tranuni  and  Johnny  Farrell  okay  Wendy  Barrie's  follow  through. 

___________ 


1/5 


in  TELEVISION 


Playing  Rnbe  Goldberg^  Drawing  Game,  along  with  the  rii    .home  audience  (WPIX,  Tues.,  8  P.M.  EST),  a  b 


DUMONT  is  conducting  an  interesting  show  over 
WABD  in  New  York  and  WNHC-TV  in  New 
Haven,  Connecticut.  It's  called  Key  to  Missing 
Persons  and  is  aired  on  Sundays  from  6  to  6:30 
P.M.  The  star  of  the  program  is  ArchdaJe  J.  Jones, 
expert  in  the  work  of  re-uniting  people  long  sep- 
arated. Most  of  the  cases  dealt  with  on  the  series 
do  not  involve  crime  or  felony,  and  are  not  the 
kind  which  normally  come  under  police  jurisdic- 
tion. 

*  •        * 

Colonel  Stoopnagle,  long  a  radio  favorite,  made 
his  television  debut  with  a  show  called  Colonel 
Stoopnagle's  Stoop.  Said  stoop  gave  the  irrepres- 
sible Colonel  a  meeting  place  for  a  wide  variety  of 
characters  with  whom  he  could  exchange  his  pecu- 
liar brand  of  wacky  chatter.  Television  gives  him 
the  opportunity  to  demonstrate  his  famous  "in- 
ventions" as  well  as  talk  about  them. 

*  *        * 

Anyone  who  doubts  that  1948  was  television's 
year  to  howl— take  note  that  on  October  1st  pre- 
mium time  (6  to  10:30  al  night)  will  be  $1,000  an 


hour  over  the  NBC  television  network.    It  was 
only  $400  an  hour  a  year  ago! 

Credit  Adelaide  Hawley  (whom  we  wrote  about 
in  the  August  issue)  and  her  Fashions  on  Parade 
video  show  for  bringing  Procter  and  Gamble,  one 
of  the  five  largest  advertisers  in  America,  to  tele- 
vision. P  &  G  signed  a  49-week  contract  to  start  at 
the  end  of  July,  and  have  been  advertising  Prell 
and  Ivory  Snow.  Video  needs  more  companies 
that  have  large  advertising  budgets,  so  that  pro- 
grams can  improve  more  rapidly. 

*  *         • 

One  exciting  television  possibility,  still  in  the  ex- 
perimental stage,  is  "Stratovision"  or  television  re- 
layed from  an  airplane — five  miles  up.  The  plane 
circles  and  picks  up  a  program  transmitted  from  a 
ground  station;  it  then  relays  that  program  to 
televiewers  on  the  ground  within  an  area  400  miles 
in  diameter.  Since  television  now  can  only  be 
thrown  50  miles,  stratovision  is  revolutionary. 

*  »         * 

Elsa  Maxwell,  world-   (Continued  on  page  97) 


STAN  SHAW,  whose  Milk- 
man's Matinee  is  a  radio 
standby,  now  goes  into 
WPIX  television  with  an- 
other disc  show,  Record 
Rendezvous  (7:05  P.M.  EST, 
Mon.-Wed.-Fri.).  He  calls 
it  a  "record  variety  show 
with  live  guest  stars/'  and 
says  his  tele-hours  are  the 
hardest  he's  ever  worked 
since  entering  radio  in  1925. 
Stan's  forty-ish,  married  to 
a  lovely  ex-model. 


JOHNNIE  STEARNS 
writes,  directs,  produces,  acts 
in  husband-and-wife  show 
Mary  Kay  and  Johnnie,  on 
WABD  Tues.,  7:15  P.M. 
EST.  Bent  on  acting,  he 
rushed  to  Hollywood  after 
his  Boston  schooldays,  to 
find  that  his  resemblance 
to  (a)  Lloyd  Nolan  and  (b) 
Humphrey  Bogart  stood  in 
the  way  of  any  real  success 
there.  Back  in- the  East,  he 
hit  Broadway  with  parts  in 
"One  Touch  of  Venus,"  "On 
The  Town."  "Are  You  With 
It?"  And  he  did  better  in 
Eastern-made  movies,  get- 
ting involved  one  way  or 
another  in  "Boomerang," 
"Kiss  of  Death,"  "Carnegie 
Hall,"  "Miracle  on  34th 
Street,"  "Portrait  of  Jenny" 
—all  made   in   New   York. 


AL  SCHACHT,  as  Clown 
Prince  of  Baseball,  has  per- 
formed before  sixty  million 
people  in  forty  years,  ex- 
pects to  double  that  on  tele 
through  The  Al  Schacht 
Show  (WNBT,  five  minutes 
before  every  Giants  base- 
ball game  from  Polo 
Grounds).  He  has  clowned 
at  most  World  Series  games 
since  1921,  written  two 
book*  Al  Schacht  owns  a 
new  52nd  Street  restaurant 


IRENE  MURPHY,  only  23. 
boasts  more  video  hour* 
than  any  girl  in  the  busi- 
ness. (It's  characteristic  of 
the  infant  industry  that  its 
veterans  should  be  young- 
sters in  their  20s!)  Starting 
with  WABD*s  Cash  and 
Carry,  she.  transferred  last 
year  to  RCA-Televlsion 
Caravan,  which  introduced 
television  to  large  depart- 
ment stores  across  the 
country.  Pretty,  brown- 
haired  "Murpb"  ia  busy 
packaging  her  owi 
program,  readying 
debut  which  should  be  tak- 
ing place  early  m  the  very 
important  ooming 


Ben  Grauer  conducts  an  alert  panel  of  participants  in  bis  Amer-^ 
icana  quia,  heard  and  seen  on  WNBT,  Mondays  at  8:30  P.M.  EST. 


T        S\         KT 


i?    r    t    t    n    N 


1.  Luncheon  at  Lucey's  in  Hollywood  preceded  tele- 
debut  on  Mutual  of  "Leave  It."  Constance  Bennett 
and  fluffy  Miss  Prudence  sat  between  guest  Walter 
O'Keefe  and   (r.)    MBS  exec.  Lewis  Allen  Weiss. 


5.  As  female  guest-of-the-day  Ann  Rutherford  pre- 
pares for  her  ordeal  by  television,  she's  watched 
critically  by  Don  Lee  makeup  expert  J.  Grant  Wil- 
son (standing),  and  with  awe  by  Mike  Frankovich. 


mve 


2.  Seated  far  left,  Robin  Chandler,  a  permanent 
"Girl";  far  right,  Constance  Moore.  Standing,  psy- 
choanalyst Dr.  J.  W.  Gregory;  Vanessa  Brown; 
Charles  Korvin;  Ann  Rutherford;  Ruth  Warrick. 


6.  First  up  to  congratulate  Robin  Chandler  after 
the  broadcast  was  comedian  Joe  E.  Brown,  still 
laughing.  The  program's  point  is  that  the  "Girls" 
are  not  only  beautiful — but  bright  as  new  pennies'. 


3,  In  spite  of  crash,  actress  Vanessa  Brown  did  get 
to  sit  down.  But  she  had  to  get  up  again  to  get 
to  tele-studio  on  time.  As  in  radio,  "Leave  It" 
has  permanent  panel  plus  male  and  female  guest. 


4.  Unkind  video  lights  make  small  amount  of  gild- 
ing necessary  even  for  Chandler  and  Bennett,  though 
they  are  about  as  telegenic  as  humankind  can  be. 
Brown   lipstick   is    gruesome    but   necessary   touch. 


BUD    GUEST'S    stock    answer    to    the    question, 
"Where  do  you  get  all  the  material  for  your 
program?"  is  an  understated,  "I  just  report  the 
news  nobody  else  wants." 

An    experienced    radioman    once    appropriately . 
added,  "Yeah,  nobody  but  the  listeners — thousands 
of  them!" 

For  Bud  Guest,  WJR's  Reporter-at-large,  with 
his  inconsequential  news  items  "that  nobody  wants," 
is,  a  pillar  of  Hooper  audience  strength  in  The 
Goodwill  Station  50,000-watt  line-up. 

It's  a  natural  flair  Bud  has  for  sunny  items.  He 
is  the  son  of  poet-philosopher  Edgar  A.  Guest, 
whose  homespun  verses  have  brought  many  a  smile 
to  the  most  downtrodden  and  tugged  at  the  heart- 
strings of  the  most  cynical. 

Bud  doesn't  take  to  iambic  meters  and  such,  but 
he  shows  in  other  ways  the  influence  of  his  early 
environment.  He  puts  into  prose  and  narration 
many  of  the  cheery  philosophies  his  world-famous 
dad  put  into  poetry. 

It's  a  little  difficult  to  describe  Bud's  Reporter-at- 
Large  program.  Over  the  past  two  and  a  half  years 
since  his  return  from  the  Navy,  he  has  explored 
such  subjects  as  the  best  way  to  cure  hiccups,  how 
to  get  a  bat  out  of  a  summer  cottage,  the  private 
life  of  a  platypus,  the  history  of  the  goldfish,  how  to 
be  comfortable  while  taking  a  rocket  trip  to  the 
moon,  and  how  to  understand  what  your  patients 
are  saying  to  you  should  you  ever  become  a  dentist. 

Bud  recently  became  involved  with  unusual 
epitaphs.  It  started  innocently  enough.  The  news 
wires  carried  an  item  quoting  an  English  clergyman 
to  the  effect  that  our  generation  had  become  a 
humorless  lot  when  it  came  to  writing  epitaphs. 
Our  ancestors  did  a  lot  better  at  it;  they  were  not 
content  merely  to  list  the  deceased's  name,  along 
with  the  dates  of  birth  and  death.  They  told  some- 
thing about  the  person  occupying  the  plot  of  land 
beneath  the  stone. 

Bud  agreed  with  the  clergyman  over  the  air,  and 
called  for  an  improvement  in  present-day  epitaphs. 
The  call  was  heard,  apparently,  by  an  enormous 
number  of  people  who  specialize  in  epitaph-col- 
lecting, for  samples  of  this  high  art  came  to  Guest's 
desk  for  weeks.  Of  all  the  sample  epitaphs  his 
listeners  supplied  he  likes  these  for  reasons  of  style, 
incisiveness,  and  ingenuity: 

"Here  lies  a  man  whose  crown  was  won, 

By  blowing  down  an  empty  gun. 

No  sooner  down  the  gun  he  blew 

Than  up  the  golden  stairs  he  flew." 
Bud  contends  that  such  an  epitaph  tells  the  com- 
plete  story   of   what   happened   to   the   gentleman 
resting  beneath  the  marker. 

But  the  one  that  he  prefers  above  all  others,  pri- 
marily because  the  author  displayed  more  than  the 
usual  amount  of  inventiveness  in  constructing  the 
rhyme,  concerns  the  sad  passing  of  one  Susan  Low- 
der.    It  goes  like  this: 

"Here  lies  the  body  of  Susan  Lowder 
Who  burst  while  drinking  a  Seidlitz  Powder. 
Called  from  this  world  to  her  heavenly  rest 
She  should  have  waited  till  it  effervesced." 


WJR's     Bud     Guest    reports    the 

news    nobody    wants — -nobody,    that    is, 

except  thousands   of   radio   listeners 


Happily  married,  Bud  is  the  father  of  three  chil- 
dren, Edgar  A.  Guest,  III,  nine;  Ellen  Elizabeth 
Guest,  seven,  and  Jane  Maynard  Guest,  three.  They 
live  in  Detroit  on  the  second  fairway  of  the  Detroit 
Golf  Club. 

Despite  his  poor  eyesight,  Bud  was  an  officer- 
instructor  in  aerial  gunnery  in  the  Navy  during  the 
war.  Before  that,  as  city  editor  of  the  Detroit  Free 
Press,  he  became  impressed  with  the  popularity  of 
humorous  fillers  with  newspaper  readers.  Then  too, 
Bud  has  a  great  personal  penchant  for  laughs  in  the 
news.  With  the  rest  of  the  world  taking  such  a  dim 
yiew  of  life,  he  feels  there  ought  to  be  a  spot  on 
radio  where  light-hearted  trivia  gets  a  chance. 
That's  the  spot  he's  made  for  himself,  with  th$ 
"news  nobody  wants" — to  which  thousands  listen. 


50 


Poet-philosopher  Edgar  A.  Guest  uained  his  iufant  son  Edgar  Jr. — hut  Junior  became  "Bud"  the  day  after 
he  was  born.  Paralleling  his  father's  habit  of  looking  on  the  cheerful  side  of  things,  Bud  decided  to  concentrate, 
as  a  reporter,  on  the  small  humorous  items  which  more  "serious"  commentators  customarily  throw  away.  Via 
WJR,    he's    found    a    lot    of    listeners    who    agree    with    him    that    there's    a    place    in    radio    for    trivia. 


51 


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I      .  ».     ,  ,    '      .    .,  '           '                ..."      ''  -'      '•     iff**"  -»■—■«•      «•-•-.  •     *■■  »••     ..••     -«.        ^    -«.    ■*■ 

*• <  ,      «...       ",  .     ,  ■•-»-•  ^ "V^-Vv" — ••-..,  .  


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l"::..:  ::.-.,.■*■  -  .    ■  ■•;.  »;    '*;v  :*„  *.."AJ.  ..'.".•  .  ■■..-: .-»■  *- .  '."-.r^-r 


......         •■  •»•., 


V-;-'.   •;'.".     '  ••••  •■•   -•  •'     /S  '■•   •■         '.  '  --■  •*  '•  •/•  ' 

'.  : ■  .••.■"T.  ••.•..  *  -  •  <    ■         •  ....       -  •  ■••  •  •    ,-,*  • 

...    . ••     .      .  . .   .  —  t  ..       ■    .    ■  - •     •   •  • . •   ••  •   : .   .        '  *■ .     . 


thanked  Roberta  Roberts  of  the  Bride  and  Groom 
office  with   a   kiee  "because -she'd  heen^so  ...nice.     . 


«• . 


1  - 


••  *•"• 


ONLY  a  few  blocks  separate  the  Bride 
and  Groom  studios  on  Wilshire 
Boulevard  from  the  fabulous  "Strip" 
on  Sunset  Boulevard,  where  are  located 
the  famed  restaurants  and  night-clubs 
that  figure  prominently  in  so  many 
Hollywood  legends.  And  yet,  despite 
the  fact  that  we'll  soon  be  starting  our 
fourth  year  on  the  air,  there  have  been 
only  two  or  three  Bride  and  Groom 
couples  chosen  from  the  hundreds  of 
people  whose  lives  are  connected  with 
that  famous  "Sunset  Strip." 

There  is  an  understandable  reason  for 
that.  For  one  thing,  we  have  deliber- 
ately avoided  choosing  couples  who 
were  already  front-page  celebrities.  We 
wanted  our  couples  to  represent  the  sort 
of  love  stories  lived  by  the  type  of  boy 
and  girl  that  we  all  know  in  our  own 
lives.  Too,  there  was  the  fact  that  Holly- 
wood romances  often  receive  such  sen- 
sational publicity  that  there  is  likely  to 
be  a  question  as  to  the  sincerity  of  any 
movie-town  marriage.  We  knew  that 
such  publicity  had  often  been  without 
the  slightest  justification,  but  we  didn't 
want  even  the  shadow  of  a  question  to 
arise  about  a  Bride  and  Groom  couple. 
After  all,  we're  mighty  proud  that  our 
couples  have  established  a  new  national 
record  in  proving  they  were  sincere 
when  they  made  their  marriage  vows." 
That  was  why  (Continued  on  page  70) 


*    « 
•    -    •»  -w.  1 
.    .- ... 

»   -*■  -•  .  . 
—  •- 

.    -    • 


•".Ray — to   whom  everything  seemed   absolutely  perfect — was 


Bride  ~ai»d    Groom,    -with    John    Ntkon    M.m.c,    i«    heard 
Monday  through  Friday  at  Z: JO  P.M.,  EST,  on  ABC  •t.Uon.. 

•  .  ...... 


^^M 


;»: 


PER. 

•     Ray  v&in'l  left   oat   wWr  bride-kissing 


*     ,     .'.'■..■.,      '.,:",:';';  '".'.^■'-""•'•"1-;:'-''-    --"»'••"'     '  roond.  As  singer  Jack   MeElroy  sainted   Mary,  R,,     .  ""^ Z^""1 

-"'"'.•*','  ^  *•        ""  '  ,.■  .    -  ■       ^     ,',  •  ',,.'..'.     (  fc  -\     *•■ 

."'.''      ■'•"  .    Mary    Gilmore'a   wedding    party    is    looking    at    .***_"        -'»"'.".      .*  .'        .',  -   -'    '. 

one    of   the:    things    that '  make  -""this    boy-meets-      , 
*V  girl-in-rjo^ywopd^  slpry^sd  "unnsual:  "ifie"  wed-  ,  ! 

^-'""W  r'D!  ">«'  almost-  Mopped  :the.  wedding;   ,' 


!  "thanked  Roberta  Roberts  of  the  Bride  and  .Groom  " 
'  afice  with   a   kies  -**r»ecanjie--.  she'd  Tleen'so  .^nice,'*    . 


ONLY  a  few  blocks  separate  the  Bride 
and  Groom  studios  on  Wilshire 
Boulevard  from  the  fabulous  "Strip" 
on  Sunset  Boulevard,  where  are  located 
the  famed  restaurants  and  night-dubs 
that  figure  prominently  in  so  many 
Hollywood  legends.  And  yet,  despite 
the  fact  that  we'll  soon  be  starting  our 
fourth  year  on  the  air,  there  have  been 
only  two  or  three  Bride  and  Groom 
couples  chosen  from  the  hundreds  of 
people  whose  lives  are  connected  with 
that  famous  "Sunset  Strip." 

There  is  an  understandable  reason  for 
that.  For  one  thing,  we  have  deliber- 
ately avoided  choosing  couples  who 
were  already  front-page  celebrities.  We 
wanted  our  couples  to  represent  the  sort 
of  love  stories  lived  by  the  type  of  boy 
and  girl  that  we  all  know  in  our  own 
lives.  Too,  there  was  the  fact  that  Holly- 
wood romances  often  receive  such  sen- 
sational publicity  that  there  is  likely  to 
be  a  question  as  to  the  sincerity  of  any 
movie-town  marriage.  We  knew  that 
such  publicity  had  often  been  without 
the  slightest  justification,  but  we  didn't 
want  even  the  shadow  of  a  question  to 
arise  about  a  Bride  and  Groom  couple. 
After  all,  we're  mighty  proud  that  our 
couples  have  established  a  new  national 
record  in  proving  they  were  sincere 
when  they  made  their  marriage  vows." 
That  was  why  (Continued  on  page  70) 


By.  jo,rii;  X£.l$.o-n;:  : >,.i.'..: 


'  Ray— to  whom  everything  seemed  abaolotely  perfect— waa      ' 
surprised  when  Mary's  mother  found' a   fold  .ant   of  place. 


" 


baaV~'e*»i    Gloom.    »ith    JoEo    No»    aa'aa.c!,    I,    baud 
»~Ut  uJaa^t   Friday  •■  1:X  r  J».,  EST,  a.  ABC  t.lloi... 


THROUGH  THE  YEARS  WITH 


■ 


fy 


^K  tSmmmJ^m^* 

$  •♦ 


The  story  of  Chichi— from  her  eventful  meeting  with  Papa  David,  long  ago,  up  to  the  present  day 


1.  David  Solomon  was  a  lonely  man  until  that  night,  many  years  ago,  when  Chichi  blundered  into  his  "Slightly  Read  Book  Shop" 
.  .  .  and  his  life.  Locked  out  of  her  sordid  tenement  home  by  the  woman  who  had  raised  her,  the  frightened,  defiant  Chichi,  little 
more  than  a  child,  ran  into  the  Book  Shop  for  shelter.  But  she  found  much  more  than  that:  a  permanent  home,  a  lovable,  wise 
old  man  to  whom  she  rapidly  became  as  close  as  a  daughter,  and  the  inspiration  to  transform  herself  into  a  worthwhile  human  being. 


FOR  many  years,  Papa  David's 
"Slightly  Read  Book  Shop"  has 
been  a  source  of  far  more  than 
second-hand  books.  Shrewd  and 
tolerant,  with  an  unshakable  faith 
in  humankind,  Papa  David  has  led 
many  others  to  an  understanding  of 
his  personal  creed — belief  in  the  in- 
trinsic beauty  of  life.  To  Chichi,  his 
protegee,  the  faces  in  Papa  David's 
album  are  well  known;  but  to  writer 
Douglas  Norman,  who  has  only  re- 
recently  found  his  way  to  the  Book 
Shop,  everything  about  it  is  new  and 
fascinating — particularly  the  people 
from  whom  it  takes  its  personality. 


"LIFE  CAN  BE  BEAUTIFUL"  CAST  MEMBERS 

Papa  David  played  by Ralph  l.orke 

Cbirhi Alice  Rriabrart 

I>oucla»  Norman Sidney  Smith 

Toby  Neloon Carl  Eaatman 

Dr.  Mark  bam Chart**  Webaler 

Nellie  Clea-oo Elh«l  Ow« 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by 
Carl  Bixby  and  Don  Becker,  is  heard 
on  NBC  every  Monday  through  Fri- 
day, at  12  noon,  PST;  1  P.M.  MST; 
2  P.M.  CST;  3  P.M.  EST. 


2.  Papa  David  arranged  living  space  for  Chichi  at  the 
rear  of  the  shop,  and  set  her  to  dusting  the  books.  He 
watched  with  satisfaction  as  she  began  to  realise  that 
between  the  covers  of  those  worn-out  books,  whole  worlds 
of  knowledge  and  beauty  were  waiting  to  be  discovered. 


55 


THROUGH     THE     YEARS     WITH 


3.  Chichi  was  still  friendly  with  her  old  companion, 
Toby  Nelson,  who  objected  violently  to  his  friend's 
new  way  of  life — not  to  Papa  David,  but  to 
the  fact  that  the  Book  Shop's  living  quarters 
were    also     sheltering     crippled     Stephen     Hamilton. 


4.  As  Chichi  bloomed  under  Papa  David's  care, 
Nellie,  the  woman  who  claimed  to  be  her  mother, 
tried  to  regain  Chichi's  confidence  by  telling  her 
the  truth  about  her  parents:  both  were  dead.  "After 
all,"     Nellie     emphasized,     "I     brought     you     up." 


7.  At  this  opportune  time,  self-seeking  Nellie  re- 
appeared, "mothered"  Chichi,  and  was  able  to  enlist 
her  aid  in  operating  a  disreputable  hotel.  When 
Chichi  realized  what  was  going  on,  she  exerted  her- 
self to  reform  both  the  hotel  and,  temporarily,  Nellie. 


8.  It  was  at  the  Gleason  Hotel  that  Chichi  met  and 
fought  with  writer  Douglas  Norman.  Her  misunder- 
standing of  him  turned  to  hatred  when  she  realized 
that  if  it  had  not  been  for  his  search  for  material, 
Stephen's  duplicity  might  never  have  come  to  light. 


56 


6M\j 


fofMtfjUl 


5.  When  Chichi  met  young  Barry  Markham,  playboy 
son  of  famous  Dr.  Bertram  Markham,  she  was  thrilled 
by  his  attention — until  Dr.  Markham  came  to  "rescue" 
his  son  from  the  girl  he  thought  predatory.  Con- 
flict became  affection  as  he  learned  to  know  Chichi. 


6.  Though  Dr.  Markham  now  tried  to  promote  the 
romance  between  Barry  and  Chichi,  she  finally  mar- 
ried Stephen.  Happiness  was  brief.  Stephen  died  sud- 
denly, and  bitterness  succeeded  grief  when  Chichi 
learned   Stephen   had  been   dishonest   and   unfaithful. 


9.  But  quarreling  was 
suspended  when  Doug- 
las, after  a  dangerous 
eye  injury,  was  moved 
at  Dr.  Markham's  re- 
quest into  the  office  and 
flat  adjoining  the  Book 
Shop.  Moved  by  emo- 
tions she  herself  could 
not  define,  Chichi  vol- 
unteered to  take  care 
of  Douglas  and  to  act 
as  his  secretary. 


RADIO 
MIRROR 
READER 
BOMS 


V 


TIE  IIFE  OF 


With  Godfrey  (far  left)  on  his  10:30  A.  M.  show:  assistant  Mugs  Richardson;  writer  Chuck  Horner;  secretary  Mimi 
Ross;  writer  Hank  Miles;  Archie  Bleyer  standing  before  his  orchestra;  at  right  of  guitarist,  producer  Will  Roland; 
at    mike,    far    right,    announcer    Tony    Marvin,     vocalist    Janette     Davis;    behind    them,    the    Mariners    Quartet. 


ARTHUR  GODFREY'S  story  is  a  strange  saga 
of  journeys  over  the  Seven  Seas,  of  vagrant 
wanderings  across  our  continent,  of  itinerant 
jobs  in  offices,  kitchens,  coal  mines,  vaudeville 
houses  and  factories. 

It  is  a  chronicle  that  borders  on  the  fabulous 
and  there  are  still  people  who  doubt  that  so  many 
things  could  have  happened  to  any  one  man  in 
such  a  short  span  of  years.  But  the  story  is  a  true 
one  and,  if  anything,  it  is  less  challenging  to  the 
imagination  than  the  glittering  facts  of  his  present- 
day  success. 

Sailor,  salesman,  coal  miner,  room  clerk,  chauf- 
feur, chef,  vagabond,  vaudevillian  .  .  .  radio  ama- 
teur to  radio  personality  extraordinary — he  might 


never  have  embarked  on  such  a  checkered  career 
were  it  not  for  the  special  circumstances  of  his 
young  boyhood. 

Radio's  famous  redhead  was  born  on  August  31, 
1903,  to  Kathryn  and  Arthur  Hanbury  Godfrey 
who  lived  at  Amsterdam  Avenue  and  112th  Street 
in  New  York  City.  Two  years  later,  the  Godfreys 
moved  from  crowded  Manhattan  to  rural  Has- 
brouck  Heights  in  New  Jersey.  It  was  a  tiny  town 
which  only  recently  had  persuaded  the  Erie  Rail- 
road to  make  regular  passenger  and  freight  stops 
there.  Horse-drawn  buggies  clop-clopped  down 
its  dusty,  tree-shaded  main  street.  The  earthy 
smell  of  livery  stables  was  a  commonplace  thing 
and  the  most  violent  sounds  heard  were  the  occa- 


! 


Hear  Arthur  Godfrey  on  CHS,  Monday  thronfrh  Friday  at  6  to  7:45  A.  M.,  10:30  to  11:30  4.M.,  and  Monday  nighta  at  8:30  EST. 


./ 


Red  Godfrey's  story  is  a  fairy 
tale  with  a  difference.     It's  not  only 


wonderful  .   .   .  it's     true,     too 


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. 

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s 

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I 

Come  weekends,  Arthur  is  likely  to  take  to 
the  water  with  as  many  sea-going  friends  as 
his  sloop  can  carry.  Singer  Janette  Davis,  a  good 
sailor,  comes  along  as  one  of  the  redhead's  party. 


By  IRA  KNASTER 


This   is   the   Godfrey  who   was   known  to    Bal- 
timore   listeners,    some    years    ago,    as    "Red." 


sional  hoot  of  a  train  whistle  or  the  jolly  clang  of 
a  blacksmith's  anvil. 

It  was  a  pleasant,  picturesque  environment  .  .  . 
but  Arthur  was  still  too  young  for  any  of  it  to 
register  on  his  mind.  A  couple  of  years  later, 
though,  when  he  was  nearing  his  fourth  birthday, 
a  vivid  incident  did  leave  its  mark. 

"It's  my  earliest  recollection,"  he  says.  "It 
seems  I  got  lost  in  a  meadow.  I  remember  that 
one  minute  everything  was  safe  and  familiar. 
Then,  before  I  knew  it,  this  tall  grass  began  closing 
in  on  me.  I  started  to  run.  The  grass  got  taller 
and  thicker  and  I  got  more  and  more  panicky. 
I  must  have  thrashed  around  in  that  maze  for 
only  a  minute  but  it  felt  like  a  year.     I  blubbered 


and  screamed  and  suddenly  mother  was  standing 
there,  smiling.  She  had  a  hard  time  convincing 
me  that  I'd  got  lost  only  about  twenty  feet  away 
from  our  front  porch." 

Fortunately,  Arthur's  childhood  misadventure 
didn't  leave  him  with  any  unhealthy  fear  of  the 
great  outdoors.  Actually,  the  opposite  is  true  .  .  . 
so  very  true  that,  reminiscing  about  him,  J.  Earle 
Thomson,  Arthur's  old  school  principal,  recalls 
him  as  "the  Daniel  Boone  of  Teterboro." 

In  the  period  when  Arthur  was  eleven  or  twelve 
years  old,  a  tremendous,  swampy  bottomland 
sprawled  at  the  foot  of  the  ridge  on  which  Has- 
brouck  Heights  was  settled.  This  was  Teterboro, 
a    marshland     pocked     with     bog-holes,    stagnant 


59 


THE  LIFE  of  ARTHUR  GODFREY 


pools,  grassy  hummocks  and  a  criss-cross  of  dank  water- 
ways and  brackish  streams.  Old  men  would  come  down 
to  this  mosquito-infested  place  with  spades  and  cut' out 
blocks  of  decayed  vegetation  called  peat.  In  season,  great 
flocks  of  wild  ducks  would  darken  the  sky  .  .  .  and  the 
sharp  bark  of  shotguns  would  fill  the  air. 

Teterboro  swamp  was  Arthur's  Shangri-la,  his  play- 
ground. In  it,  along  with  Allan  Vannoti,  tomboy  Molly 
Moran  and  other  companions,  he  fished,  crabbed,  hunted 
for  birds'  nests  and  sailed  home-made  boats.  Best  of  all 
were  the  hours  spent  in  trapping  muskrats.  If,  now  and 
then,  one  of  the  crude  traps  snared  a  muskrat,  its  dark  pelt 
could  be  sold  for  a  few  welcome  dollars. 

One  of  his  chums  owned  a  keen  rifle  that  never  failed 
to  bring  a  glint  of  envy  to  Arthur's  blue  eyes.  It  would 
have  been  swell  bagging  muskrats  with  a  rifle  like  that  but 
they  cost  money  .  .  .  more  money  than  he  dared  to  mention 
in  the  Godfrey  household  those  days. 

Only  eleven  years  old,  but  already  Arthur  was  conscious 
of  the  meaning  of  money.  Day  after  day,  his  awareness 
of  it  came  from  spoken  and  unspoken  references  to  it  at 
home.  Arthur  now  had  sisters  and  brothers  .  .  .  Kathryn, 
Charles,  Robert  and  Gene.  It  was  a  large  family  to  feed 
and  many  times  the  worry  of  it  was  written  in  mother's 
eyes. 

Mother  .  .  .  with  her  tall,  slender  figure  and -her  lovely 
auburn  hair — a  magnetic  personality,  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors said.  Every  ounce  of  her  patience  and  love  went  into 
the  rearing  of  this  family  and  still,  with  an  intense  kind 
of  pride,  she  would  find  time  for  community  activities. 
There  was  the  church  choir.  There  were  the  meetings  of 
The  Woman's  Club  of  which  she  was  a  charter  member. 

There  were  discussions  at  the  Shakespeare  Club  and, 
every  so  often,  a  trip  by  ferry  to  New  York  for  some 
performance  of  "Hamlet"  or  "Othello."  Mother  took  part 
in  these  cultural  events  ...   as  often  as  her  dwindling 


60 


Sailor,  salesman,  chauffeur,  chef  .  .  .  Godfrey  has 
not  forgotten  the  knocking-around  he   once  took. 


Margaret  "Mugs"  Richardson  is  head  of  the  small 
army  of  assistants  who  expedite  Godfrey's  shows. 


means  permitted.  The  occasions  became  fewer  and  fewer. 
As  for  Dad,  outwardly  his  dapper  appearance  bespoke 
self-assurance  and  security.  Still  in  his  prime,  a  fine  fig- 
ure of  a  man  with  fair  complexion,  alert,  intelligent  eyes 
set  in  handsome  features,  he  was  every  inch  the  gentleman. 
His  vocabulary  was  remarkably  extensive  and  his  manner 
of  speech  was  precise  and  in  keeping  with  his  English 
education. 

DUT  Dad  indulged  in  fewer  witticisms  than  he  used 
to  .  .  .  laughed  less  frequently,  less  heartily.  He  talked 
only  occasionally  about  the  fascinating  work  he  had  done 
as  feature  writer  for  national  magazines,  as  editor  of  trade 
papers  and  periodicals  that  dealt  with  horse-breeding  and 
horse  shows.  He'd  been  an  acknowledged  expert  on  those 
subjects.  Sometimes  there  would  be  a  special  ring  in  his 
voice  as  he  told  stories  about  the  glamorous  people  he'd 
seen  and  met  while  working  as  publicist  for  millionaire 
Vanderbilt's  racing  interests. 

But  an  important  change  had  taken  place.  Exactly 
what  this  change  was,  Arthur  didn't  know,  except  that  it 
was  linked  to  the  atmosphere  at  home.  Dimly,  he  realized 
that  it  had  something  to  do  with  horses  and  money  and 
laughter  at  the  dinner  table.  It  had  something  to  do  with 
the  grim,  resigned  look  that  came  over  Dad's  face  when- 
ever one  of  those  new-fangled  "horseless  buggies"  chugged 
into  view. 

And  so,  with  the  coming  of  his  school  vacation,  young 
Arthur  Godfrey  elected  not  to  laze  in  the  summer  sun. 
Instead,  he  traipsed  down  to  Ehler's  grocery  store  and 
offered  his  services  for  whatever  wage  Mr.  Ehler  deemed 
worth-while.  Small  fry  weren't  much  good  behind  the 
counter,  so  a  post  was  found  for  him  as  assistant  in  charge 
of  deliveries.  That  arrangement  was  okay  with  Arthur 
because,  like  his  father,  he  loved  being  near  horses  .  .  .  and 
the  Ehler  deliveries  were  made  via  one-horse-power 
wagon.  It  was  a  prospering  establishment  and  orders  had  to 
be  taken  to  customers  who  lived  all  over  the  neighboring 
countryside.  Arthur  liked  moving  about  and  meeting  folks 
.  .  .  and  besides,  he  was  able  to  come  home  on  Saturday 
nights  with  a  fistful  of  silver. 

There  were  other  summers  and  other  jobs.  There  were 


THE  LIFE  of  ARTHUR  GODFREY 


jobs  he  worked  at  in  after-school  hours.  There  was  the 
newspaper  route  he  shared  with  Ralph  Chandless  and  the 
job  of  driving  Schaeffer's  bakery  wagon. 

He  was  growing  up,  taking  on  man-sized  responsibilities. 
But  the  kid  had  his  off  moments,  too.  For  example,  the 
several  occasions  when  he  was  supposed  to  be  exercising 
Mr.  Schaeffer's  horse  and  when,  instead,  he  was  seen 
riding  the  nag  bareback  down  some  otherwise  quiet  resi- 
dential street — charging  hell-for-leather  past  the  house  of 
some  pretty  girl  he  was  trying  to  impress. 

'T'HEN,  there  was  the  matter  of  Mrs.  Goodrich's  Thursday 
afternoon  card  party,  a  social  institution  in  Hasbrouck 
Heights.  It  was  Mrs.  Goodrich's  custom  to  serve  the  ladies 
cold  refreshments  in  summertime.  This  was  August  and 
she  had  ordered  three  quarts  of  ice  cream  from  John  Fer- 
rari's Sweet  Shoppe,  young  Godfrey's  current  place  of 
employment.  At  3  P.M.,  promptly  as  instructed,  Mr.  Fer- 
rari had  the  cold  refreshment  packed  and  in  Arthur's 
hands  for  delivery.  At  3: 45  P.M.,  Ferrari's  prized  customer 
telephoned  and,  in  tones  several  degrees  chillier  than  any 
ice  cream,  demanded  to  know  why  it  hadn't  arrived. 
Frantically,  Ferrari  dashed  outside.  The  first  thing  he 
saw  was  Arthur  and  a  couple  of  other  kids  crouched  over 
a  hot  game  of  marbles  .  .  .  and  three  quarts  of  hot  ice 
cream  oozing  off  the  curbstone. 

However,  those  departures  from  good  behavior  were 
very  rare.  Ask  John  Ferrari  today  and  he'll  tell  you 
emphatically  that  "Arthur  was  a  fine  lad.  If  he  earned  a 
two-bit  tip  I  happen  to  know  that  he'd  turn  it  over  to  his 
mother.  And  when  she  let  him  have  the  nickel  for  ice 
cream,  he'd  come  into  my  place  like  the  happiest  youngster 
alive." 

In  that  period,  just  prior  to  the  first  World  War,  im- 
portant social  changes  were  taking  place  in  America  .  .  . 
changes   brought   about  by   the   appearance   of   two   new 


developments — the  flivver  and  the  flickers.  Already  it  was 
apparent  that  the  increasing  numbers  of  automobiles  were 
having  an  adverse  effect  on  the  elder  Godfrey's  fortunes. 
As  for  the  movies,  they,  oddly  enough,  provided  a  means 
of  livelihood  for  Mrs.  Godfrey. 

Hasbrouck  Heights'  sole  movie  emporium  may  have 
been  named  the  usual  Bijou,  or  Palace,  or  Cameo.  No  one 
seems  to  recall  just  what  its  proper  name  was,  but  every- 
one does  remember  it  as  "the  monkey-house."  It  probably 
earned  that  label  because  of  wild  monkey-shines  indulged 
in  by  the  town's  teen-age  set.  "The  Perils  of  Pauline," 
the  Mack  Sennett  Comedies,  the  Theda  Bara  heart-throb- 
bers,  the  Vitagraph  epics  and  all  the  Charlie  Chaplin  films 
paraded  across  its  silver  screen. 

Seated  at  the  piano  down  front,  playing  mood  music  for 
all  those  silent  flickers,  was  Arthur  Godfrey's  mother.  It 
was  work  that  utilized  her  musical  talent.  It  was  work 
that  meant  income,  however  meager. 

The  Black  Tom  explosion,  booming  within  earshot  of 
Hasbrouck  Heights  .  .  .  unrestricted  U-boat  warfare  in  the 
Atlantic  .  .  .  our  declaration  of  a  state  of  war  against 
Germany  .  .  .  Wilson's  Fourteen  Points  of  Peace  .  .  .  Battle 
of  the  Somme  .  .  .  Battle  of  the  Meuse-Argonne.  .  .  . 

Against  the  background  of  those  troubling  world  events, 
Arthur  progressed  from  grammar  school  to  high  school. 
He  was  a  good  student,  neither  brilliant  nor  mediocre. 
He  became  known  as  a  chronic  yawner  in  morning 
classes,  just  as  he  is  today  during  his  early  morning 
broadcasts.  He  had  a  special  aptitude  for  mathematics. 
Geography  captured  his  imagination  although  there  were 
several  instances  when  his  open  geography  book  was 
used  to  shield  some  novel  of  high  adventure.  In  one 
biology  class,  Arthur  amazed  his  teacher  and  fellow 
students  by  accurately  identifying  several  species  of 
bird-life,  topping  off  his  talk  with  an  enlightening  dis- 
course on  nesting  characteristics   (Continued  on  page  96) 


Mary  and  Arthur  can  ride  over  quite  a  bit  of  Virginia  without  leaving  their  own  land,  of  which  there's  800  acres. 


61 


PARTY  FOOD  SHOULD 


BENW 


^  &QQD  ™  L°0K  AT  AS  ,T  IS  TO  £Ar, 


ONCE  a  year  it's  fitting  for  ghosts  to  stalk  your 
table.  Heap  goblins  on  to  the  sandwich  platter 
with  funny  face  cut-outs.  Cut  circles  from 
Boston  brown  bread.  In  half  of  them  snip  out  eyes 
and  mouth.  Spread  the  remaining  slices  with  a 
contrasting  colored  filling.  A  good  yellow  pimiento 
cheese  mixture  is  good  with  brown  bread.  Choose 
ham  or  tongue  or  a  jelly  for  the  white  ones.  Let 
ghosts  walk  on  the  sandwich  platter  by  stuffing 
celery  stalks  with  cream  cheese,  using  leafy  celery 
ends  for  the  arms.  Stand  the  ghosts  to  guard  the 
sandwich  pile.  Serve  a  pitcher  of  cider  and  fresh 
apples  to  munch  on. 

Here  are  other  suggestions  for  holiday  cele- 
brating around  Halloween. 

BLACK  CAT  COOKIES 

Melt  bitter  chocolate  over  warm  water  and  keep 
warm  enough  not  to  harden.  Put  a  drop  of 
chocolate  in  the  middle  of  a  large  round  cookie, 
over  this  place  a  chocolate  coated  peppermint 
wafer  for  the  body  of    (Continued  on  page  84) 


CROSS  BONES  SALAD 

Serve  this  on  a  supper  plate  along  wit/) 
hot  -food.  Take  2  stalks  of  stuffed  celery 
and  cross  them  on  a  lettuce  leaf.  At  one 
end  place  2  stuffed  prunes.  (Remove 
stones  and  fill  each  prune  with  seasoned 
cream  cheese.)  Use  stuffed  olives  for  the 
eyes.  Cut  a  triangle  of  olive  for  the  nose 
and  a  pimiento  strip  for  the  mouth. 
Serve  with   mayonnaise   at  the  side. 


HALLOWEEN  SALAD 

Lightly  mix  canned  kernel  corn,  cooked 
shredded  stringbeans,  cubed  cooked  po- 
tatoes and  hard-cooked  eggs,  chopped. 
Season  to  taste  with  minced  onion,  salt 
and  pepper  and  fold  in  enough  mayon- 
naise to  moisten.  Serve  in  lettuce  cups, 
garnish  with  tomato  slices  and  sprinkle 
with  grated  hard-cooked   egg  yolks. 


HALLOWEEN   SUPPERS 

Goblin-faced    Meat    Pies 

(face    slashed    in    crust) 

Julienne  Carrots 

Orange  Ice  in  Orange  Cups 

Chocolate  cookies 

Gingerale 

******* 

Halloween  Salad 

Cream  Cheese  Sandwich 

Nuts         Apples         Taffy 

Orange-Filed    Cup   Cakes   or 

Doughnuts 

Sweet  Cider 


ORANGE  ICE 

Combine  2  cups  of  water  and  I  cup  of 
sugar.  Heat  until  sugar  is  dissolved.  Then 
add  2  cups  of  strained  orange  juice  and 
'/}  cup  of  strained  lemon  juice.  Cool, 
and  then  pour  into  ice  cube  trays.  Place 
in  freezing  compartment  of  refrigerator. 
Freeze  until  firm.  Makes  H/2  pints  or  6 
servings. 


By 
KATE  SMITH 


RADIO  MIRROR 

FOOD  COUNSELOR 


■ 

62 


Listen    to   Kate    Smith    Speaks,    heard    Monday    through 
Friday   at   12   Noon,    EST,   on    Mutual   network   stations. 


IU  II  Ml     II  I  I!  I!  II  II    for    BETTER    LIVISG 


The  fun  of  a   Halloween  party  can  be  magnified  by   having  refreshments  that  carry   out  the  ghosts-and-witches 
theme — in    an    appetizing    way,    of    course!     Leafy    ghosts    walking    among    goblin-faced    sandwiches    will   do    it. 


63 


All  limes  Below  Are  EASTERN  STANDARD  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


s 

U       N 

DAY 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Earl  Wild 

Carolina  Calling 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  to  Order 
Words  and  Music 

Tone  Tapestries 

Chamber  Music 
Society 

White  Rabbit  Line 

News 

E,  Power  Biggs 

Trinity  Choir  of 
St.  Paul's  Chapel 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Bible  Highlights 

Voices  Down  The 
Wind 

Radio  Bible  Class 
Voice  of  Prophecy 

Message  of  Israel 
Southernaires 

Church  of  the  Air 
Church  of  the  Air 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

News  Highlights 
Solitaire  Time 

Christian  Reform 

Church 
Reviewing  Stand 

Fine  Arts  Quartette 
Hour  of  Faith 

Howard  K.  Smith 
The  News  Makers 
Salt  Lake  Tabernacle 

12:00 

Breakfast  in  Wash- 

Texas Jim  Robertson 

Invitation  to  Learning 

12:15 

ington 

12:30 

Eternal  Light 

Lutneran  Hour 

People's  Platform 

12:45 

Piano  Playhouse 

1:00 

America  United 

William  L.  Shirer 

Sam  Pettengill 

1:15 

Mutual  Music  Box 

Edward  "Ted" 
Weeks 

1:30 

Chicago  Round  Table 

Music 

National  Vespers 

Tell  It  Again 

1:45 

2:00 

First  Piano  Quartet 

Army  Air  Force 

This  Week  Around 

You  Are  There 

2:15 

Show 

the  World 

2:30 

Robert  Merrill 

Bill  Cunningham 

Mr.  President 

Joseph  C.  Harsch 

2:45 

Veteran's  Information 

Drama 

Elmo  Roper 

3:00 

Eddy  Howard 

Charlie's  House 

Harrison  Wood 

CBS  Symphony 

3:15 

The  Almanac 

Orch. 

3:30 

One  Man's  Family 

Juvenile  Jury 

Dance  Music 

3:45 

4:00 

The  Quiz  Kids 

House  of  Mystery 

4:15 

Thinking  Allowed 

4:30 

News 

True  Detective 

Make  Mine  Music 

4:45 

Living— 1948 

5:00 

Author  Meets  the 

The  Shadow 

Personal  Autograph 

5:15 

Critics 

Musical 

5:30 

Jane  Pickens 

Quick  As  A  Flash 

David  Harding 

Sunday  At  The  Chase 

5:45 

Counterspy 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

The  Catholic  Hour 

Those  Websters 

Drew  Pearson 

Family  Hour 

6:15 

Don  Gardner 

6:30 

Hollywood  Star 

Nick  Carter 

Greatest  Story  Ever 

The  Pause  That  Re- 

6:45 

Preview 

Told 

freshes  on  the  Air 

7:00 

Sherlock  Holmes 

Johnny  Thompson 

Gene  Autry 

7:15 

7:30 

Rexall  Summer 

Behind  the  Front 

Johnny  Fletcher 

Blondie 

7:45 

Theater 

Page 

8:00 

Charlie  McCarthy 

A.  L.  Alexander 

Stop  the  Music 

Sam  Spade 

8:15 

Show 

8:30 

RFD  America 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Man  Called  X 

8:45 

Twin  Views  of  News 

9:00 

Manhattan  Merry- 

Walter  Winchell 

Winner  Take  All 

9:15 

Go-Round 

Louella  Pnrsons 

9:30 

American  Album 

Jim  Backus 

Theatre  Guild  on 

Strike  It  Rich 

9:45 

the  Air 

10:00 

Take  It  or  Leave  It 

Voice  of  Strings 

Hollywood  Show- 

10:15 

case,  Mickey 
Rooney 

10:30 

Horace  Heidt 

Clary's  Gazette 

Jimmie  Fidler 

Escape 

MOREY  AMSTERDAM— fast-talking 
night-club  performer  now  heard  Sat- 
urday nights  at  9:00  P.M.,  EST,  CBS. 


king 
S.-it. 


MARILYN  ERSKINE— plays  the  role 
of  Janey  Brown  in  Young  Widder 
Brown  which  is  heard  Mondays  to 
Fridays  on  CBS  at  4:45  P.M.  EST.  No 
stranger  to  the  Broadway  stage,  Mari- 
lyn has  appeared  in  many  big-time 
productions,  one  of  which  was  Thorn- 
ton Wilder's  successful  "Our  Town." 
Despite  a  busy  acting  schedule,  she 
has  managed  to  find  time  to  study 
languages  and  music  as  well  as  to 
write  several  short  stories  and  poems. 


MONDAY 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  New 

York 
Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  and  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Navy  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 
Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Fun  House 
Jack  Aimstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

64 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
In  My  Opinion 
Fred  Feibel 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
The  Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

8:55 

Cavalcade  of 

America 

Voice  of  Firestone 

The  Falcon 

Casebook  of  Gregory 

Hood 
Billy  Rose 

Sound  Off 

Stars  in  the  Night 

Inner  Sanctum 
Talent  Scouts 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Telephone  Hour 
Dr.  1.  Q. 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Quiet  Please 

Tomorrow's  Tops 
Get  Rich  Quick 

Lux  Radio  Show 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Contented  Program 
Fred  Waring 

Fishing  and  Hunting 

Club 
Dance  Orch. 

Arthur  Gaeth 
Earl  Godwin 

Vaughn  Monroe 

ARNOLD  STANG— goggle-eyed,  5'4", 
120-pounder  has  been  playing  comedy 
parts  for  fourteen  of  his  twenty-five 
years.  A  native  of  Chelsea,  Mass.,  he 
acquired  his  radio  experience  in  Let's 
Pretend,  The  Children's  Hour,  and 
The  Goldbergs  in  which  he  created  the 
role  of  Seymour  which  later  emerged 
as  the  hapless  Gerard,  mirth-provoking 
addition  to  The  Henry  Morgan  Show. 


TUESDAY 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 
News 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

H ark  n ess  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Bo  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 
Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
6:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 

superman 
Tom  Mix 

Fun  House 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

W       E      D      N       E 

S      D 

A      Y 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  it  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine Of  The  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst.  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

i 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 

2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 
Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis   . 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 
Red  Hook  31 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
The  Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Fun  House 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Talks 

Avenir  de  Monfred 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Adrian  Rollini  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Alvin  Heifer 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Dennis  Day 
Great  Gildersleeve 

Special  Agent 

High  Adventure 
Billy  Rose 

On  Stage  America 

Mr.  Chameleon 
Dr.  Christian 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Tex  and  Jinx 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Lionel  Hampton 
Show 

Abbott  and  Costello 
Go  For  the  House 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

The  Big  Story 

Opinion-Aire 
California  Melodies 

Bing  Crosby 
Gordon  MacRae 

The  Whistler 
Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Frontiers  of  Science 
Fred  Feibel 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 

7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Lennie  Herman 

Quintet 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 

Elmer  Davis 

Green  Hornet  Drama 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Dinan  Shore,  Harry 
James  and  Johnny 
Mercer 

Date  With  Judy 

Mysterious  Traveler 
Billy  Rose 

Youth  Asks  the 

Government 
Edwin  D.  Cantham 
America's  Town 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mystery  Theater 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Amos  'n'  Andy 
Call  the  Police 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Lone  Wolf 

Local  Programs 

We,  The  People 
Hit  The  Jackpot 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Bob  Hope  Show 
People  Are  Funny 

Public  Defender 
Dance  Orchestra 

NAM  Series 
Labor  U.  S.  A. 

Studio  One 

MARY  SMALL— whom  radio  fans 
will  remember  as  the  singing  M.  C.  of 
the  recent  Mary  Small-Junior  Miss 
program  and  as  "the  little  girl  with  the 
big  voice"  can  now  be  heard  on  Mu- 
tual's  radio  game.  Three  For  The 
Money,  aired  Saturday  nights  from  9 
to  10  P.M.,  EST.  Mary  is  married  to 
song  writer  Vic  Mizzy  who  has  written 
a  long  string  of  hits.  They  have  a 
daughter,     three-year-old     Patti     Lou. 


65 


It  a« 'I 

^■''"'.rY^'V'  :-".V;V"': 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

|8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  inN.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  for  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

CONNIE  DESMOND— who  helps  add 
sparkle  to  CBS's  County  Fair,  Wednes- 
days at  9:00  P.M.,  EST,  as  a  member 
of  the  singing  "Bordenaires"  quartet 
still  finds  it  had  to  explain  how  she 
broke  into  radio  so  easily.  Her  first  job 
was  as  a  singer  with  an  ETO  touring 
unit;  later  she  joined  a  quartet  with 
Louis  Prima's  band.  And  in  four 
short  months  she  was  offered  her  pres- 
ent spot  with  the  County  Fair  quartet. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  for  a  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

* 

5:00 

When  a  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Fun  House 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

rmx^m^wmut 


EVENING   PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Of  Men  and  Books 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Lawrence  Welk 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Alvin  Heifer 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Lucky  Partners 

Better  Half  Quiz 
Billy  Rose 

Front  Page 
Criminal  Casebook 

Dr.  Staridish 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Nelson  Eddy-Dorothy 

Kirsten 
Sealtest  Village  Store 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Revere  Revue 
Background  For 
Stardom 

Child's  World 
Candid  Microphone 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Bob  Hawk  Show 

The  Time,  The  Place 
and  The  Tune 

Family  Theatre 

Local  Programs 

Radio  Readers' 
Digest 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atche 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  for  You 
Sing  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bfst.  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Campus  Salute 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  for  a  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burto- 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Red  Hook  31 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Fun  House 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


ROY  ROGERS— one  of  the  greatest 
box  office  attractions  of  all  time  has 
come  a  long  way  since  the  days  when 
he  was  plain  Len  Slye  of  Duck  Run, 
Ohio.  He  began  his  career  as  a  mem- 
ber of  the  International  Cowboys  and 
later  joined  the  Sons  of  The  Pioneers. 
Republic  Pictures  claimed  him  next. 
Recently,  Roy  returned  to  the  air  after 
a  long  absence;  Roy  can  be  heard  on 
Sundays  at  6:00  P.M.,  EST  on  Mutual. 


66 


6:00 
6:15 

6:30 
6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Report  from  the 

United  Nations 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Mary  Osborn  Trio 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Alvin  Heifer 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Cities  Service  Band 
of  America 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 
Billy  Rose 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

First  Piano  Quartet 
Waltz  Time 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Col.  Stoopnagle's  Quiz 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Local  Programs 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Mystery  Theater 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Tex  Beneko 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

Phil  Baker 
Spotlight  Revue 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Practical  Gardner 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Renfro  Valley  Folks 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Frank  Merriwell 
Archie  Andrews 

Bill  Harrington 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

This  Is  For  You    . 

Johnny  Thompson 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
house 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Buddy  Weed 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Campus  Capers 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affairs 

12:30 

Coffee  With  Congress 

American  Farmer 

Stars  Over  Hollywood 

12:45 

This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 

1:00 

Naf  1  Farm  Home 

Alan  Lomax 

Maggi  McNellis, 

Grand  Central  Sta. 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

Edmond  Tomlinson 

Dance  Orch. 

Speaking  of  Songs 

County  Fair 

1:45 

Report  From  Europe 

2:00 

Music  For  The 

Woody  Herman's 

Football 

Give  and  Take 

2:15 

Moment 

Orch. 

2:30 

Salute  to  Veterans 

Sands  For  Bonds 

Country  Journal 

2:45 

3:00 

Dance  Orch. 

Report  from  Overseas 

3:15 

Adventures  in 
Science 

3:30 

Local  Programs 

Sports  Parade 

ABC  Symphony 

Cross-Section  U.S.A. 

3:45 

Orch. 

4:00 

Charlie  Slocum 

Stan  Dougherty 

4:15 

Horse  Race 

4:30 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

First  Church  ot 
Christ  Science 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:00 

Dizzy  Dean  Sports- 
cast 

Take  A  Number 

Tea  and  Crumpets 

5:15 

Lassie  Show 

5:30 

Dr.  1.  Q.  Jr. 

True  or  False 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 

Dave  Stephen's 
Orch. 

5:45 

Dorothy  Guldheim 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

6:15 
6:30 

6:45 

Peter  Roberts 

Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Ernie  Felice  Quartet 

Profits  of  Prayer 
Harry  Wismer 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

Red  Barber  Sports 

Show 
Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Curtain  Time 

Hawaii  Calls 

What's  the  Name  of 
That  Song 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Saturday  Night 
Serenade 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Life  of  Riley 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Ross  Dolan, 

Detective 
The  Amazing  Mr. 

Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Can  You  Top  This 

Three  For  The 
Money 

Gang  Busters 
What's  My  Name 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Kay  Kyser 
Grand  OleOpry 

Theater  of  the  Air 

Musical  Etchings 
Hayloft  Hoedown 

Let's  Dance,  America 

DWIGHT  WEIST— the  host  on  We 
The  People,  Tuesdays,  9:00  P.M.,  EST, 
CBS  is  an  actor  who  can  write  as  well 
as  act.  An  alumni  of  Ohio  Wesleyan, 
he  has  turned  out  several  scripts  which 
have  been  considered  worthy  enough 
to  be  ^broadcast.  And  there's  more 
coming  up,  too.  Dwight,  his  wife  and 
their  two  robust  youngsters  live  in 
Pelham,  New  York,  where  he  practices 
his    favorite    hobby — photography. 


The  General  Electric  Company  is  now  busy  pro- 
ducing a  new  model  electronic  toy  phonograph  that 
should  be  a  boon  to  parents  of  record-conscious 
children.  The  machine  will  play  small  children's 
discs  as  well  as  standard  10-inch  and  12-inch  records 
and  comes  in  a  metal  case  finished  in  blue,  with 
lithographed  figures  in  white.  The  device  measures 
approximately  13  inches  long,  9  inches  wide  and 
5  inches  high.    It  weighs  only  6  pounds. 


Weighing  only  6  % 
pounds,  the  Teletone 
Model  185  portable 
makes  for  easy  toting 
to  your  favorite  foot- 
ball stadium.  This 
little  three-way  set 
comes  in  a  plastic  case 
with  a  gold  metal 
grill  and  drop-door 
front.  Retail  price  is 
about   $27.95. 


Teletone:  light  and  handsome. 


Becoming  more  and  more  available  are  record 
plavers  with  two-speed  motors,  capable  of  playing 
both  standard  records  and  the  newly  arrived  LP 
(long  playing)  records.  Since  it's  a  bit  too  soon 
for  comprehensive  study  and  intelligent  recommen- 
dation, Radio  Mirror  suggests  a  listen  and  look-see 
shopping  tour.  Basically,  the  LP  records  revolve  at  a 
speed  of  33  y3  revolutions  per  minute  as  against  the 
78  revolutions  per  minute  of  standard  records.  In 
addition,  the  groove  in  which  the  needle  rides  is 
much  smaller.  Result  is  best  described  by  pointing 
out  that  an  eight-record  album  can  be  recorded  on  a 
single  LP  disc. 


Another  new  table 
model  television  set 
that  combines  AM  and 
FM  radio  with  a  13- 
channel  video  re- 
ceiver is  the  Garod 
model  900TV,  which 
will  retail  for  $375 
plus  tax  and  installa- 
tion. The  10-inch 
direct-view  set  is  fin- 
ished in  hand-rubbed 
mahogany  veneers. 
Garod  is  also  produc- 
ing a  similar  set  with 
a  12-inch  tube,  which 
will  retail  for  $425 
plus  tax  and  installa- 
tion. 


$375  for  Garod'a 
10-inch  direct  view. 


Beverly  Smith,  left,  director  of  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton,  introduces  as  Family 
Counselor  the  man  who  has  made  a  hobby  of  hobbies:  engineer  Warren  Morgan. 


By 

TERRY 
BVRTOS 


EVEN  though  I  know  many  people  are  interested  in 
hobbies,  I  couldn't  help  but  wonder  how  many 
housewives  have  enough  time  to  spare  for  them! 
However,  our  next  Family  Counselor  was  Mr.  Warren 
F.  Morgan,  an  engineer  whose  hobby  is  hobbies.  He 
very  neatly  set  me  straight. 

He  said:  "A  hobby  can  become  a  very  important 
part  of  a  woman's  life.  You  see,  the  main  advantage  of 
a  hobby  is  that,  in  addition  to  the  real  pleasure  it  can 
bring  you  materially,  it  also  adds  a  lot  to  your  life."  I 
didn't  quite  follow  this,  and  asked  him  to  explain.  "Well, 
a  hobby  gives  you  a  feeling  of  real  accomplishment. 
Take,  for  instance,  dress  designing — I  know  that's  a 
hobby  of  yours." 

"Why,  come  to  think  of  it,  I  guess  it  is  a  hobby!"  I 
agreed.  "I  know  I  do  have  fun  planning  clothes  for 
myself  and  my  friends,  and  as  a  result  of  my  hobby, 
Stan  added  a  new  department  in  the  store  and  it's  al- 
ready showing  results — why,  of  course,  that  is  a  real 
accomplishment." 

"You  see,  Mrs.  Burton,  by  taking  up  a  hobby  women 
will  find  themselves  to  be  more  interesting  people," 
Mr.  Morgan  continued.  "A  housewife  with  a  variety  of 
hobbies,  or  one  special  hobby,  keeps  from  falling  into  a 
dull  pattern.  Because  her  curiosity  is  awakened,  her 
mind  is  active  and  her  conversation  becomes  more 
interesting." 


* 


"And  besides,"  I  reminded  him,  "you're  always  learn- 
ing something  new,  for  instance,  a  different  way  of 
solving  a  tedious  problem.  And  most  important,  a 
hobby  leads  to  new  friendships,  too." 

"And  I'd  like  to  emphasize  this  point,  Mrs.  Burton," 
said  Mr.  Morgan.  "Everybody's  talking  about  brother- 
hood these  days.  Well,  I  can't  think  of  a  more  success- 
ful example  of  brotherhood  in  action  than  a  group  of 
people,  or  one  or  two  people,  working  together  with  their 
hobbies  for  their  mutual  advantage.  That  way,  it's  a 
real  give  and  take  proposition.  With  a  common  interest, 
every  person  is  eager  and  ready  to  find  out  what  the 
others  have  discovered,  and  then  apply  it  for  them- 
selves." 

"How,"  I  questioned,  "does  one  go  about  finding  or 
developing  a  hobby?" 

"You  know,  Mrs.  Burton,  most  people  really  do  have 
hobbies,  even  if  they  don't  recognize  them.  Anything 
you  do  of  your  own  free  choice,  for  your  own  personal 
pleasure  and  satisfaction,  is  a  hobby.  All  you  need 
worry  about  is  to  be  sure  it's  the  way  you  most  enjoy 
having  fun." 

On  the  Family  Counselor  broadcasts,  we  want  to  dis- 
cuss the  problems  that  chiefly  interest  our  audience. 
What  topic  would  you  like  to  hear  discussed  by  one  of 
our  Family  Counselors?  Won't  you  send  your  suggestions 
along  to  me  in  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


Every  «  <:<ln<-«lny ,  The  Second  Mr».  Burton  is  visited  by  on  uuthority  on  Hint  phaiw  of  women'iMirorld  Interest.  Through  lhi»  department,  Terry 
Burton  ■hare*  norne  of  these  visits  v»iib  Ha.lio  Mirror  reader*.  The  Second  Mrs.  Burton  Is  heard  Monday  through  Friday,  2  P.  M.  EST,  CflS. 


68 


""? 


HER  FACE  tells  you 

the  charming  story  of  herself 

In  Mrs.  du  Pont's  lovely  face  you  see 
the  true  reflection  of  her  lovely 
inner-self.  For  her  face  shows  you, 
with  its  sparkle  and  beauty  and 
intelligence,  what  a  completely 
captivating  woman  lives  back  of  it. 

Does  your  face  let  the  real  You 
come  through — so  that  others  see 
you  as  you  want  to  be?  Your  face  is 
the  outer  picture  of  your  inner-self, 
remember.  And,  it  can  be  such  a 
delightful,  enjoyable  picture,  if  you 
care  enough  to  make  it  so. 


ci/fe 


udea 


•       I  can't  i 


Her  complexion  has  a  beautifully  cared-for  look — fine  in  texture,  clear.   soft 


imagine  a  finer  face  cream',  Mrs.  du  Pont  sap 


Pond's  is  used  and  beloved  by  more  women 
than  any  other  face  cream.  Get  yourself  a 
big  jar  of  snowy  Pond's  Cold  Cream — today! 


A  charming  face  reveals  you  as  a 
charming  person.  Don't  think  your  face 
doesn't  matter.  It  does.  And  so  does  the 
care  you  give  it.  Always  at  bedtime  (for 
day  cleansings,  too)  do  Pond's  "Outside- 
Inside"  Face  Treatment.  7V) ts  is  the  way: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  face  with  hot  water. 
Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 

over  your  face.  This  softens  and  sweeps  dirt 

from  pore  openings.  Tissue  off  well. 
Cream    Rinse — swirl    on    more    Pond's.    This 

rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt,  and  leaves  your 

skin  immaculate.  Tissue  off. 
Cold  Stimulation — a  tonic  cold  water  splash. 


See  your  face  now!  It  looks  re-made! 

This  "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment 
acts  on  both  sides  of  your  skin.  From 
the  Outside — Pond's  Cold  Cream  wraps 
around  surface  dirt  and  make-up.  as  vou 
massage — sweeps  them  cleanly  away,  as 
you  tissue  off.  From  the  Inside — every 
step  quickens  beauty-giving  circulation. 

It  is  not  vanity  to  develop  the  beaut] 

of  your  face.  It  gives  you  a  glowing  air 
of  confidence  and  happiness  that  wings 
from  you  to  all  who  see  you.  It  brings 
the  Inner  You  closer  to  others. 


I 

M 

69 


*      *      *      *      * 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


m 


by 
VALDA    SHERMAN 


I 

M 
70 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per» 
son  and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl  ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate   protection   is   needed  —  so  protect 

yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39<f  plus  tax. 

(Advertisement) 
*         •  •         •         * 


Bride  and  Groom 

(Continued  from  page  53) 


we  asked  even  more  questions  than 
usual  when  we  considered  the  applica- 
tion of  Mary  Lesch  and  Ray  Gilmore. 
Surely  Hollywood  had  played  a  leading 
role  in  their  real-life  romance.  It  was 
even  the  reason  for  their  deciding  on  a 
Bride  and  Groom  wedding.  As  Ray  ex- 
plained, "When  we  think  of  marriage 
in  Hollywood,  we  think  of  your  pro- 
gram. Being  on  it  would  sort  of  com- 
plete the  picture;  because  all  the  rest 
of  our  love  story,  including  our  first 
meeting,  has  had  a  Hollywood  setting." 

After  the  board  of  judges,  who  select 
each  day's  couple,  had  read  that  story, 
they  gave  quick  approval  to  the  appear- 
ance of  Mary  and  Ray.  "Theirs  is  a 
Hollywood  story,  yes,"  one  of  the 
judges  said,  "but  it's  also  exactly  the 
type  of  story  we  always  look  for — the 
story  of  a  boy  and  girl  who  are  truly  in 
love,  and  whose  marriage  would  have 
every  chance  of  being  a  thing  of  lasting 
happiness." 

Their  story  started  in  a  completely- 
Hollywood  setting — the  Samuel  Gold- 
wyn  Studios.  Ray's  work  was  in  the 
scenic  department,  while  Mary  was  a 
clerk-typist  in  the  studio's  story  de- 
partment. But  a  major  picture  studio 
is  a  huge  place,  and  the  two  might  have 
worked  in  their  separate  departments 
for  years  without  even  seeing  each 
other.  "Probably  we  should  have  an- 
ticipated our  meeting,"  Ray  laughed. 
"Mary  told  me  later  that  the  story  de- 
partment had  thousands  of  plot-outlines 
based  on  the  idea  that  the  right  boy 
always  finds  the  right  girl  regardless  of 
circumstances.  Judging  by  what  hap- 
pened, I  think  those  scenario-writers 
know  what  they're  talking  about!" 

The  first  meeting  took  place  the 
morning  that  Mary  went  looking  for  her 
boss,  to  deliver  an  important  message. 
Her  search  included  a  stop  at  Ray's 
office,  in  a  part  of  the  studio  where  she 
had  never  been  before.  "That  was  all 
it  took,"  said  Ray,  "just  a  few  words  of 
strictly-business  conversation  to  con- 
vince me  that  that  something  mighty 
important  had  happened  into  my  life." 

To  make  sure  that  it  wasn't  to  end 
with  just  those  few  words,  Ray  ap- 
pointed himself  Mary's  guide  for  the 
remainder  of  her  search.  They  found 
the  missing  boss  finally,  in  a  remote  pro- 
jection room,  but  by  that  time  it  was 
lunch-hour.  Starting  with  that  noon, 
the  Studio  Coffee  Shop  thereafter  had 
the  same  couple  at  the  same  little  table 


in  the  corner  every  day  at  lunchtime. 

There  were  other  dates,  too — quiet 
dinners  at  a  famous  little  restaurant  on 
La  Cienega  .  .  .  pre-showings  or  pre- 
mieres of  a  Goldwyn  production  .  .  . 
drives  along  the  coast  highway  to  near- 
by Ventura.  "When  you  finally  meet 
the  right  girl,"  Ray  said,  "it's  as  though 
you've  always  known  each  other.  We 
hadn't  put  our  feelings  into  words  dur- 
ing those  first  few  months.  It  doesn't 
always  take  words  between  people  in 
love,  and  I  was  certain  that  Mary  and  I 
felt  the  same  way  about  each  other." 

Then  came  a  happening  to  shake  that 
certainty.  A  boyhood  friend  of  Ray's 
came  to  Hollywood  on  a  visit  from  a 
southern  state.  Knowing  Hollywood 
only  through  what  he'd  heard  and  read, 
the  friend  had  an  exaggerated  idea 
about  everyone  connected  in  any  way 
with  the  movies.  "I  think  he  was  dis- 
appointed that  I  hadn't  brought  along 
Lana  Turner  or  Betty  Grable  to  meet 
him  at  the  station,"  Ray  laughed.  "I 
finally  got  that  straightened  out,  but  I 
couldn't  convince  him  that  most  of  his 
other  ideas  of  Hollywood  were  just  as 
wrong." 

For  instance,  when  Ray  got  around  to 
the  subject  of  Mary,  the  friend  sort  of 
whistled  and  said,  "A  studio  glamor  gal! 
Swell,  long  as  you  don't  take  her  too 
seriously." 

"You  bet  she's  a  glamor  gal,"  Ray  re- 
plied. "Just  wait  till  you  see  her!  But 
you're  wrong  on  the  rest  of  it — and  I 
am  taking  her  seriously." 

Well,  the  friend  really  went  to  work 
in  earnest,  bringing  up  every  fable  and 
cliche  that  he'd  ever  read  in  a  gossip 
column.  "Don't  kid  yourself — she's  a 
Hollywood  gal,  isn't  she?"  he  asked. 
"You  meet  her  at  the  studio,  have  a 
few  dates  with  her,  and  then  try  to  tell 
me  she's  different.  How  do  you  know 
she  is — how  do  you  know  she  isn't  just 
going  along  for  the  laughs?  What  makes 
you  think  she's  as  serious  as  you  say 
you  are?" 

Ray  laughed  good-humoredly.  "The 
only  thing  wrong  with  you  is  that 
you've  read  too  many  tabloids,"  he 
chaffed.  "You  forget  that  ninety-nine 
percent  of  Hollywood  is  made  up  of 
people  like  Mary  and  me.  People  who 
never  make  the  headlines,  who  fall  com- 
pletely and  seriously  in  love  with  just 
one  person,  and  who  actually  do  get 
married  for  keeps.  But  you've  done  me 
a  big  favor  by  (Continued  on  page  72) 


Women  who  listen  regularly  to  "My  True  Story" 
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(Continued  from  page  70)  even  bring- 
ing it  up." 

"How  do  you  mean?"  the  friend  asked. 

"Well,"  said  Ray,  "when  you  first 
started  talking,  I  thought  'I  could  sure 
prove  to  you  how  serious  Mary  and  I 
are  about  each  other,  just  by  asking  her 
to  set  the  wedding  date.'  And  that's  ex- 
actly what  I'm  going  to  do  tonight!  Not 
to  prove  anything  to  you,  but  because 
there  isn't  any  sense  in  our  waiting  any 
longer,  when  we're  this  much  in  love." 

"I  hope  you  know  what  you're  doing," 
the  friend  said  doubtfully.  "But  from 
what  I've  read  about  these  Hollywood 
glamor  gals,  particularly  the  ones  work- 
ing in  studios  .  .  ." 

"From  what  you've  read,  you  haven't 
got  the  slightest  idea  of  the  truth!"  Ray 
exploded.  "I'm  going  to  prove  it  to  you 
by  having  you  meet  Mary  tonight.  But 
you're  leaving  early,"  he  added.  "We 
won't  need  any  witness  to  what  I'm 
going  to  ask  her  later.  Now  come  on,  I've 
got  to  pick  out  an  engagement  ring." 

THAT  night  Ray  was  prouder  than  ever 
as  he  introduced  his  friend  to  Mary. 
She'll  show  him  how  completely  wrong 
he  was  about  her,  Ray  thought.  Even 
the  conversation  seemed  to  be  adding 
proof  that  the  only  "Hollywood"  part 
of  the  romance  was  that  it  had  happened 
to  take  place  in  that  town.  For  instance, 
the  subject  of  divorce  came  up,  and 
Mary  mentioned  casually  that  there  had 
never  been  a  divorce  in  her  family.  Ray 
glanced  triumphantly  at  his  friend.  But 
the  friend  seemed  to  have  missed  the 
point.  Instead,  his  face  bore  a  sudden 
odd  look  of  disapproval,  almost  of  pity, 
as  he  sat  watching  Mary  and  Ray. 

Mary  left  the  room  to  bring  refresh- 
ments, and  Ray  leaned  forward  eagerly. 
"What'd  I  tell  you?"  he  asked  his  friend. 
"You  and  your  talk  about  'Hollywood 
types' !  Isn't  she  the  kind  of  a  girl  I 
said  she  was?" 

Pity  was  more  evident  than  ever  in 
his  friend's  glance,  and  he  hesitated  be- 
fore saying  slowly,  "Ray,  you  told  me 
you'd  never  actually  put  your  feeling 
for  her  into  words.  Maybe  it  would 
have  been  better  if  you  had — you 
wouldn't  have  built  yourself  up  to  this 
let-down." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?" 

The  friend's  voice  was  reluctant.  "Re- 
member when  she  said  there'd  never 
been  a  divorce  in  her  family?"  At  Ray's 
bewildered  nod,  the  friend  went  on, 
"She  must  have  included  herself  in  that. 
When  she  comes  back,  look  at  the  third 
finger  of  her  left  hand!" 

Ray  tried  to  force  a  laugh  at  even 
the  thought,  but  just  then  Mary  came 
back  into  the  room.  For  a  moment  Ray 
looked  into  her  eyes,  then  slowly  his 
gaze  went  to  her  left  hand.  There,  on 
the  third  finger,  was  a  plain  golden 
band. 

The  friend,  sensing  the  drama  of  the 
moment,  rose  to  leave,  but  Ray  said, 
"Wait  for  me  outside.  I  .  .  .  I'm  not 
going  to  stay,  after  all."  And  I,  he 
thought  bitterly,  was  going  to  show  him 
that,  even  without  words  between  us, 
Mary  and  I  had  known  all  along  the 
way  we  felt  about  each  other. 

When  the  door  closed  behind  the 
friend,  Mary  faced  Ray  in  bewilder- 
ment. "Why  aren't  you  going  to  stay?" 
she  asked.  "I  thought  you  said  you 
were  going  to  ask  me  something  impor- 
tant tonight?" 

"I  was,"  Ray  said  quietly.  "But  I 
didn't  know  until  just  now  that  I've 
been  taking  too  much  for  granted.  I 
should  have  said  something  before  so 
you  could  have  set  me  right." 

"Right  about  what,  Ray?" 


"About  us.  You  see,  I've  been  head 
over  heels  in  love  with  you.  I  thought 
it  was  the  same  with  you.  Why,  I 
planned  on  asking  you  to  marry  me." 

"But  what  happened  to  .  .  ."  Mary 
broke  off  suddenly,  her  eyes  following 
Ray's  gaze  at  the  ring  on  her  finger. 
"Ray!"  she  cried,  her  voice  a  mixture  of 
tears  and  laughter.  "Do  you  mean  it's 
this  ring?    Look!" 

She  twisted  the  ring  ar®und  on  her 
finger.  It  wasn't  a  plain  band  of  a 
wedding  ring — on  the  side  that  had  been 
hidden,  the  gold  had  been  formed  into 
the  design  of  a  friendship-knot.  "Ray, 
I've  worn  this  ring  before,  but  right  side 
out!  I've  had  it  since  another  girl  gave 
it  to  me  in  high  school.  How  could  you 
think  that  .  .  ." 

She  didn't  get  to  finish  the  question. 
Ray  was  already  answering  it — not  with 
words,  but  with  his  arms  tightly  around 
her,  and  his  lips  on  hers.  Outside,  his 
friend  paced  impatiently  back  and  forth 
on  the  sidewalk.  Why  didn't  Ray  ac- 
cept the  truth,  much  as  it  might  hurt 
him?  But  suddenly  the  door  was  opened 
and  Ray  was  saying,  "I  have  to  find  a 
jeweler  who  can  take  the  design  off  a 
friendship-ring — Mary  and  I  want  to 
use  it  for  our  wedding  ring!" 

At  the  time  Ray  and  Mary  came  to 
the  Bride  and  Groom  studio  for  their 
first  interview  with  us,  they  were  no 
longer  with  the  Goldwyn  Studios.  But 
Hollywood  was  very  definitely  still  in 
the  picture.  In  fact,  an  even  more  fabu- 
lous part  of  Hollywood,  for  Ray  had  be- 
come the  night  manager  of  one  of  the 
best-known  places  on  Sunset  Strip — the 
famous  Ciro's.  Yes,  there  were  all  the 
things  you  read  about — the  celebrities, 
the  limousines,  the  spotlights,  the  gay 
parties  where  every  guest  was  a  front- 
page personality.  But  there  were  also 
Mary  and  Ray — a  boy  and  a  girl  as  sin- 
cerely in  love  as  any  two  sweethearts 
in  the  smallest  and  least-glamorized 
hamlet  of  the  county. 

IT  was  that  very  evident  fact  that 
brought  them  in  unanimous  approval 
of  the  Bride  and  Groom  board  of  judges, 
and  that  made  them  one  of  the  best- 
liked  couples  ever  to  appear  on  our 
broadcasts.  A  personal  -  appearance 
commitment  had  taken  me  out  of  town 
that  day,  and  Jack  McElroy  acted  as 
master-of-ceremonies.  The  owner  and 
"boss"  of  Ciro's,  H.  D.  Hover,  entered 
into  the  broadcast  picture,  too — sharing 
in  the  laughter  that  came  when  Jack 
presented  Ray  with  a  set  of  boxing 
gloves,  explaining,  "We  want  you  to  be 
fully  equipped  for  your  work  at  Ciro's!" 

The  boxing  gloves,  of  course,  were 
only  a  gag  addition  to  the  really  valu- 
able gifts  presented  to  Mary  and  Ray 
that  afternoon — a  gas  range,  a  refriger- 
ator, home-cleaning  unit,  furniture, 
Gruen  watches,  silver,  china,  luggage, 
and  all  the  rest.  High  in  importance  was 
the  week's  honeymoon  at  one  of  the 
most  unique  resorts  in  America — the 
Timberline  Lodge  in  Oregon. 

There  was  an  added  event  awaiting 
the  newlyweds  upon  their  return  from 
the  Oregon  honeymoon  —  an  event 
usually  reserved  for  only  the  most 
famous  of  Hollywood,  an  all-evening 
party  at  fabulous  Ciro's.  The  entire  es- 
tablishment was  at  their  disposal,  an 
impressive  list  of  motion-picture  and 
radio  stars  were  included  on  the  guest 
list,  and  every  minute  of  the  evening 
was  in  honor  of  Mary  and  Ray,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Gilmore.  A  Hollywood  affair  for 
a  Hollywood  couple?  No.  A  party 
among  friends  for  a  boy  and  girl  who 
had  become  man  and  wife,  because  they 
were  truly  in  love. 


It  Happened  on 
Hint  Hunt 

(Continued  from  page  29) 

me  a  check  for  whatever  amount  I'd 
won? 

Next  day,  Saturday,  I  received  a  tele- 
phone call  from  Mr.  Meyer.  Would  I 
please  remain  at  home  on  Monday  and 
would  I  please  tune  in  on  WTOP,  Wash- 
ington's outlet  for  the  Hint  Hunt  pro- 
gram? I  assured  him  that  both  those 
requests  would  be  complied  with. 

On  Monday,  a  bright,  sunny  day,  the 
routine  of  our  little  menage  was  com- 
pletely off  schedule.  Son  Andrew  was 
an  absentee  from  school  .  .  .  and  mother 
decided  to  play  hooky  from  the  office. 

At  long  last,  four  p.m  came  and,  you 
may  be  sure,  my  dial  was  set  for  WTOP. 
Hint  Hunt  got  under  way  and  we  lis- 
tened avidly.  Andrew,  who  had  been 
dashing  in  and  out  of  the  apartment, 
knew  what  the  score  was  but  I  was 
blissfully  unaware  of  the  strange  ac- 
tivity going  on  in  the  basement  of  our 
Lanier  Place  apartment  house.  My  at- 
tention was  centered  on  every  word  and 
inflection  coming  from  master-of-cere- 
monies  Chuck  Acree  who  interviews 
housewives  attending  the  broadcast  in 
Chicago.  At  4:20  P.M.  Chuck  began 
announcing  winners  .  .  .  not  winners  of 
cash  prizes  but  of  Ford  sedans — five  of 
'em!  At  4:23,  I  thrilled  to  the  sound  of 
my  name  coming  over  the  loudspeaker 
— and  then  the  program  suddenly  cut 
off! 

BUT  only  for  the  merest  instant,  where- 
upon it  resumed  ...  in  a  strangely 
different  way.  It  had  a  different  quality 
to  it.  A  different  voice  was  speaking.  .  .  . 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  your 
WTOP  announcer,  Glenn  Taylor,  bring- 
ing you  a  special  broadcast  from  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Marjorie  Copperthite, 
Washington,  D.  C,  winner  of  the  Hint 
Hunt  jingle  contest.  We  shall  interview 
the  lucky  lady  directly  from.  .  .  ." 

Mystified,  I  turned  to  mother,  then  to 
Aunt  Josephine  and  finally  to  a  grinning 
Andrew.  Tnen  the  hall  door  of  our 
apartment  burst  open! 

Into  our  living  room  walked  a  man  . .  . 
WTOP's  Glenn  Taylor  himself,  talking 
at  a  mile-a-minute  clip  into  a  portable 
microphone!  Only  one  step  behind  the 
announcer  was  what  appeared  to  be  a 
small  army  .  . .  reporters,  both  male  and 
female,  frantically  jotting  down  notes 
.  .  .  photographers  busy  flashing  their 
flashguns  .  .  .  miscellaneous  people  I 
couldn't  identify  at  all  .  .  .  and  Mr. 
Meyer,  smiling  broadly,  this  time. 

What  had  happened  was  that  WTOP 
had  cut  away  from  the  CBS  network 
hookup  to  pull  this  special  stunt  for 
local  listeners.  Before  I  could  catch  my 
breath,  I  was  "on  the  air,"  being  inter- 
viewed. All  Washington  was  listening 
in  while  I,  a  dazed  but  happy  woman, 
mumbled  answers  to  Mr.  Taylor's  ques- 
tions. I  found  myself  accepting  the 
bright  shiny  keys  to  a  bright,  shiny 
automobile. 

When  Hint  Hunt  signed  off,  the  re- 
porters and  photographers  really  went 
to  town.  Firing  a  barrage  of  questions, 
they  hemmed  me  in  on  every  side.  Out 
of  that  welter  of  impressions  and  chatter 
I  recall  Mr.  Meyer's  pithy  comment,  to 
wit:  "Well,  Mrs.  Copperthite,  it  looks 
like  your  jingle  jangled  to  the  tune  of  a 
Ford  sedan." 

Someone  else  chimed  in  with,  "She 
still  looks  mighty  skeptical.  Let's  take 
her  outside  to  see  for  herself." 

With    very    little    ceremony,    I    was 


One  Word  Led  to  Another 

f\  scrub  and  scrub,  but 
(  I  cant  get  rid  of  this 

V  TATTLE-TALE  GRAY: 


DISGUSTED— What  woman  wouldn't  be  disgusted? 
— when  the  lure  of  mysterious  washing  miracles 
and  other  'inducements'  —  ends  in  the  same  old 
weary  wash  days  and   dingy,  half-clean  clothes. 


I'm  so  glad  you 


told  me  ] 


MM     OV/    I^IUW     jrvwi      *\j\\j>     i.iV        ■     — — (p^B 

about  FELS-NAPTHA  SOAP/ 


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I 

M 

73 


>v:-..   ..., 


You  can't 


shut 
your 


♦^   ears.. 


to  the  chorus  of  praise 
about  Tampax! 

"Marvelous"  to  the  enthusiastic  type, 
"sensible"  to  the  practical-minded  and 
"dainty"  to  the  fastidious — whatever  the 
point  of  view — the  praise  of  Tampax 

frew  louder  as  its  users  mounted  in  num- 
ers  to  the  present  millions.  Tampax  dis- 
cards all  belts,  pins  and  external  pads  for 
monthly  sanitary  protection!  Is  it  any 
wonder  it's  popular? 

An  invention  of  a  doctor,  Tampax  is 
made  of  highly  absorbent  cotton  com- 
pressed in  easy-to-use  applicators.  It  is 
worn  internally — and  when  in  place  it 
can  neither  be  seen  nor  felt.  No  bulkiness. 
No  chafing.  No  "ends"  to  show  under 
smooth-fitting  skirts.  Odor  cannot  form. 
Tampax  is  quick  to  change.  Disposal 
no  trouble  (only  1/15  the  size  of  external 
pad).  Something  else  women  appreciate 
— there's  no  need  to  remove 
Tampax  before  taking  bath. . . . 
The  many-sided  advantages  of 
Tampax  help  keep  up  your 
morale  on  the  difficult  days.  Buy 
it  at  drug  stores  or  notion  coun- 
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into  purse;  economy  box  holds  4  times 
this  quantity.  Tampax  Incorporated, 
Palmer,  Mass. 


NO  BELTS 
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NO  PAOS 

NO  ODOR 


1 

M 

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Accepted  for  Advertising 
iy  the  Journal  of  the  American  Medical  Anociation 


wheeled  out  to  the  street  and  there, 
sure  enough,  stood  the  brand  new  car 
.  .  .  beautiful,  big  as  life  and,  well,  quite 
unreal.  Even  while  feasting  my  eyes  on 
it,  I  knew  it  was  destined  to  have  an- 
other owner  very  soon. 

Later,  after  the  small  army  had  gone 
and  when  the  hubbub  had  subsided, 
Andrew  explained  about  the  mysterious 
activities  that  preceded  the  "invasion." 
Roughly  one  hour  before  the  Hint  Hunt 
program  got  started,  a  small  but  effi- 
cient crew  of  WTOP  technicians  had 
entered  the  basement  of  our  apartment 
building.  They  had  set  up  their  equip- 
ment and  were  ready  to  join  the  big 
broadcast  at  4:20  P.M.  Frankly,  the 
neatness  and  secrecy  with  which  thoV 
accomplished  all  that  impressed  me  al- 
most as  much  as  the  stroke  of  good  luck 
that  came  my  way. 

A  few  hours  later,  we  made  a  deal 
with  one  of  the  several  dozen  people 
who  telephoned  to  ask  if  I  would  sell 
my  new  car.  The  money  is  already 
being  used  for  medical  treatment.  It 
isn't  nearly  the  amount  needed  to  cover 
all  expenses  but  it  will  go  a  long  way. 

IN  1936,  I  was  a  healthy,  normal 
*  woman,  active  in  my  secretarial  job 
with  the  Resettlement  Administration, 
then  headed  by  Rexford  Guy  Tugwell. 
It  was  interesting  work.  More  impor- 
tant, my  income  from  it  was  the  main 
support  of  four-year-old  Andrew  and 
myself  for,  at  that  time,  my  husband  and 
I  had  been  separated.  I'd  been  working 
quite  hard  and  looked  forward  eagerly 
to  that  summer  vacation.  Especially 
was  I  looking  forward  to  the  swimming. 

Vacation  time  came  and,  with  An- 
drew, I  visited  my  uncle's  home  in  New- 
port News,  Virginia.  Down  there  I 
swapped  the  drive  and  tension  of  my 
city  routine  for  a  lazy,  sun-soaked  holi- 
day during  which  the  most  vigorous 
activity  indulged  in  was  swimming  .  .  . 
and  I  couldn't  get  enough  of  that.  It  was 
all  quite  perfect . . .  until  one  day,  toward 
the  end  of  my  two  weeks,  I  suddenly  felt 
horribly  ill.  Fever.  Chills.  Aches. 
Weakness.  It  was  frightening,  mainly 
because  it  was  so  unaccountable.  A  phy- 
sician who  was  called  in  said  my  condi- 
tion had  something  to  do  with  a  swollen 
gland  ...  or  vice  versa,  I'm  not  sure. 

I  returned  to  Washington  and  to  my 
job  but,  within  a  month,  I  was  forced  to 
quit.  My  agony  had  increased  to  such  a 
degree  that  I  was  hospitalized.  Special- 
ists diagnosed  my  condition  as  hemo- 
lytic-septicemia .  .  .  the  invasion  and 
persistence  of  pathogenic  bacteria  in  the 
bloodstream.  In  1936,  it  was  a  disease 
with  a  99-percent  mortality. 

In  that  fierce  early  onslaught  of  the 
illness,  my  temperature  soared  to  107 
for  hours  at  a  time  and  it  rarely  dipped 
below  103.  For  months  I  was  kept  under 
opiates  to  deaden  the  pain.  And,  hemo- 
lytic-septicemia being  what  it  is,  de- 
struction of  my  red  blood  cells  was  go- 
ing on  at  a  furious  rate.  It  was  in  that 
period  that  relatives  and  friends  do- 
nated seven  blood  transfusions. 

Considerable  publicity  was  given  late 
that  year  to  a  serious  strep  throat  condi- 
tion suffered  by  Franklin  D.  Roosevelt, 
Jr.  More  exactly,  the  publicity  centered 
on  a  new  drug  used  by  his  doctors.  It 
was  called  prontolin-prontozol.  In 
desperation,  my  own  physicians  decided 
to  try  it  on  me.  The  drug  was  very 
scarce  and  there  was  much  frantic  tele- 
phoning and  dashing  around  Washing- 
ton before  some  was  located.  At  about 
two  o'clock  in  the  morning  mother 
roused  one  pharmacy  owner  from  bed, 
dragged  him  down  to  his  shop,  obtained 
the  medical  wonder  and  then  raced  back 


to  the  hospital  with  it.  It  is  the  consen- 
sus that  prontolin-prontozol  . .  .  original 
of  our  present-day  sulfa  drugs  .  . .  saved 
me  from  joining  the  99  percent. 

But  already  the  disease  had  brought 
terrible  havoc.  With  a  silver  spike 
pierced  through  my  ankle  and  rigged  to 
weights  so  that  my  limb  and  hip-joint 
would  maintain  a  certain  position,  I 
spent  eight  months  in  Emergency  Hos- 
pital. Several  times  during  that  period, 
bone  surgery  was  performed,  and  the 
doctors  created  artificial  hip-joints  be- 
cause that  portion  of  my  bone  structure 
had  already  been  invaded  by  the  bac- 
teria. 

How  did  that  bolt  from  the  blue 
strike?  What  brought  on  this  crippling 
disease?  The  doctors  could  give  no  con- 
clusive reason  nor  could  I  explain  it.  I 
recall  having  had  no  noticeable  cut  or 
scratch.  There  had  been  no  fall,  no 
bruise  .  .  .  and  yet  one  of  those  things 
must  have  happened  because,  somehow, 
that  malignant  bacteria  entered  my 
bloodstream  and  began  its  destructive 
work. 

I  was  bedridden  for  over  eight  years. 
What  sustained  me,  in  addition  to  the 
best  medical  skill  obtained  at  great  sac- 
rifice, was  the  love  and  comfort  of  my 
family  .  . .  the  knowledge  that  they  were 
always  near,  rooting  for  me  to  win. 
Their  presence,  their  infinite  patience 
and  their  loyalty  was  a  constant  re- 
minder that,  although  a  ruthless  germ 
was  coursing  through  my  system,  I  had 
a  heritage  of  finer  stuff  in  my  veins  with 
which  to  combat  it.  My  ancestors  came 
to  America  in  1632.  My  granddad  was 
a  drummer-boy  with  General  Robert  E. 
Lee's  Confederate  Army  and  his  own 
brother  fought  under  the  Union  flag. 
You  see,  our  little  family  inherits  the 
best  that  was  in  a  bunch  of  Rebels  and 
Dam'   Yankees. 

Since  advancing  to  the  wheel-chair 
phase  of  my  life,  these  last  two  years, 
I've  been  on  a  few  auto  rides  and  to  a 
few  movies.  It's  my  strapping  boy  who 
lifts  me  into  the  car  when  some  friend 
or  relative  takes  us  for  a  drive.  Andrew 
is  pretty  solid  for  his  sixteen  years.  He's 
five  feet,  nine  inches  tall  and  he  tips  the 
scale  at  170  pounds  .  .  .  and  it  isn't 
all  brawn,  either.  He's  regarded  a 
good  student  in  high  school.  Just  as  I 
used  to  be,  Andrew  is  very  fond  of 
swimming  and  all  water  sports.  Like 
me,  he's  a  good  speller  and  an  avid  fan 
of  every  quiz  and  contest  program. 

{PARTICIPATE  in  many  of  those  pro- 
grams, too.  Matching  wits  with  all 
those  radio  quiz-masters  and  contest 
braintrusters  takes  care  of  a  large  size 
of  time  that  otherwise  would  weigh 
heavily  on  me.  Sometimes  I  draw  a 
blank  and  sometimes  I  win.  One  of  my 
trophies  is  a  radio-phonograph  com- 
bination. Also  I've  won  several  albums 
of  records,  two  sets  of  aluminum 
kitchenware  (didn't  they  delight  Aunt 
Josephine!),  two  electric  irons,  com- 
pacts, bracelets  and  (this  one  tested  my 
sense  of  humor)  several  pairs  of  nylons. 

Winning  all  those  things  was  fun. 
What  pleased  me  most  was  not  the  ma- 
terial value  they  represent,  but  the  feel- 
ing they  gave  me  that  I'm  able  to  com- 
pete. 

The  material  value  of  this  Hint  Hunt 
windfall,  though,  is  like  icing  on  the 
cake.  I've  had  the  thrill  and  the  satis- 
faction of  being  with  the  top  winners 
and,  what's  more,  new  frontiers  of  hope 
have  been  opened  with  the  money  that 
we're  now  using  for  further  treatment. 

It  was  wonderful  being  a  car-owner 
.  .  .  but  it'll  be  even  more  wonderful  if 
it  helps  me  to  become  a  pedestrian. 


Masked  Tenor 

(Continued  from  page  25) 

did  some  fast  thinking.  As  it  hap- 
pened, a  movie  current  then  was  "The 
Man  in  the  Iron  Mask,"  starring  Doug- 
las Fairbanks.  The  sponsor  of  the  pro- 
gram was  the  maker  of  Silvertown 
Cord  tires.  The  announcer  put  these 
two  ideas  together  and  produced  Joe's 
new  trade-mark. 

"Folks,"  he  said,  "the  tenor  you 
have  just  heard  is  a  man  of  mystery. 
No  one  knows  his  name.  He  is  the  man 
in  the  Silver  Mask." 

That's  the  way  things  happened  in 
radio,  in  the  old  days. 

The  combination  of  Joe's  magnificent 
voice  and  the  mystery  surrounding  his 
identity  caught  the  listening  public's 
fancy,  and  in  less  than  a  week  the 
studio  had  received  sixteen  thousand 
letters  demanding  to  know  the  real 
name  of  the  Silver-Masked  Tenor. 
That  was  a  big  secret  by  then,  though. 
The  sponsors,  seeing  the  letters  pour 
in,  had  already  bought  Joe  a  silver 
mask  to  wear  and  given  him  a  contract 
to  sign. 

IT  couldn't  have  happened  at  a  nicer 
time.  Joe  had  been  married  only  a  few 
months  before,  to  a  blue-eyed  dark- 
haired  Irish  girl  named  Maureen 
O'Byrne.  When  a  man's  newly  mar- 
ried, very  much  in  love,  and  thinking 
about  starting  a  family,  he  wants  some- 
thing solid  and  substantial,  like  a  con- 
tract with  a  big  sponsored  radio 
program. 

Not  that  Joe  had  ever  had  any 
doubts  of  his  own  ultimate  success. 
Singing  had  always  been  in  his  blood. 
He  was  the  fifth  child  of  the  White 
family,  and  for  generations  back  every 
fifth  child  in  each  generation  had  been 
gifted  with  a  lovely  voice.  At  the  age 
of  eight  he  had  made  his  first  stage 
appearance,  as  a  child  actor  and  singer 
in  "Checkers"  with  Thomas  Ross,  and 
he'd  been  singing  ever  since — in  vaude- 
ville and  minstrel  shows,  in  New  York 
night  spots,  entertaining  troops  over- 
seas during  the  first  world  war.  He 
had  been  a  sergeant  in  the  27th  Di- 
vision of  the  AEF,  had  been  wounded 
in  Flanders  and  sent  to  the  hospital  to 
recover.  Later  on,  he'd  been  blown 
from  an  ammunition  truck  and  bruised 
his  left  leg,  but  that  injury  didn't  seem 
to  be  serious — not  then.  He  forgot  it 
almost  immediately,  got  back  on  his 
truck  and  delivered  the  ammunition  to 
the  front  lines. 

What  with  the  weekly  broadcasts 
and  concert  appearances  where  lis- 
teners flocked  to  see  the  Silver- 
Maskd  Tenor  with  their  own  eyes,  Joe 
rode  the  peak  of  success.  He  and 
Maureen  had  their  first  child,  Rose- 
mary, and  their  second,  Joseph,  and 
their  third,  who  was  named  Graham 
McNamee  White,  after  Joe's  very  good 
friend. 

Then,  imperceptibly  at  first,  the  tide 
of  success  began  to  turn.  The  program 
went  off  the  air,  and  Joe  was'  without 
a  sponsor.  NBC  signed  him  up  for  a 
number  of  sustaining  programs,  how- 
ever, and  concert  engagements  were 
still  easy  to  secure.  He  dropped  the 
disguise  of  the  silver  mask  and  began 
singing  under  his  own  name.  He  kept 
busy — not  so  prosperously  as  before, 
perhaps,  but  busy  enough  to  provide 
for  the  family  which  had  now  been 
increased  by  another  child,  Philip. 

But  the  concert  engagements  became 
fewer  and  fewer  as  the  years  went  by. 
One    of    his    weekly    sustaining    pro- 


CYD  CHARISSE,  FEATURED  IN 

METRO-GOLDWYN-MAYER'S 

TECHNICOLOR  MUSICAL 

"WORDS  AND  MUSIC" 


changed  my  idiole  life 


I  was  but  definitely  a  lonely  heart. 
UNTIL:  ONE  DAY  I  READ 

"Want  to  attract  a  man?"  says  Cyd 
Charisse.  "Soft  hands  are  a  kind  of 
love-spell.  What  hand  care  do  I  use? 
Oh,  I  always  use  Jergens  Lotion." 

So  I  started  to  use  Jergens,  too. 


AND  NOW— a  man  all  my  own,  saying 
my  hands  are  so  soft . . .  saying  he  loves  me. 

It's  true— Jergens  is  for  even  softer, 
smoother  hands  today,  thanks  to  recent 
research.  Actually— 2  skin-care  ingredients 
many  doctors  swear  by  are  both  in 
today's  Jergens  Lotion.  10<?  to 
$1.00  (plus  tax).  And  no  oili- 
ness;  no  sticky  feeling.  See 
why  the  Hollywood  Stars 
use  Jergens  Lotion,  7  to  1. 


Used  by  More  Women  than 
Any  Other  Hand  Care  in  the  World 

For  the  Softest,  Adorable  Hands,  use  Jergens  Lotion 


i 

M 

75 


J"- 


Y3r~*  m.< 


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when  they're  large,  lovely,  alluring! 
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with  KURLASH,  the  patented  eyelash  curler — 
glamour  secret  of  Hollywood  stars!  Gently, 
KURLASH  upcurves  your  lashes  against  a  soft 
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thicker,  twice  as  glamourous! 

New  PURSE-STYLE  KURLASH  is  handy  as 

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76 


grams  went  off  the  air,  and  then  an- 
other. During  the  Silver  Mask  days, 
Joe  had  written  and  introduced  a  num- 
ber of  songs,  and  now  his  royalties 
from  those  songs,  as  they  were  played 
on  the  air  from  time  to  time,  became 
a  more  important  part  of  his  income, 
not  the  small  change  they  had  always 
seemed  until  now. 

Still,  with  unquenchable  optimism, 
Joe  never  worried.  He  had  always 
taken  care  of  his  family  and  he  always 
would.  Two  more  children  were  born 
—Bobby,  •  the  fifth  child,  and  little 
Eileen,  and  Joe  and  Maureen  were  as 
happy  over  their  arrival  as  they  had 
been  over  the  others'. 

His  years  of  singing  had  made  of  Joe 
a  walking  encyclopedia  of  popular 
music,  and  when  the  time  came  at  last 
that  NBC,  in  its  corporate  wisdom, 
decided  it  could  no  longer  employ  him 
as  a  sustaining  artist,  it  offered  him 
instead  a  job  in  the  network's  music 
library.  He  accepted  it,  although  it 
meant  that  now  he  would  be  earning 
in  a  week  what  once  he  had  earned 
in  a  day.  He  could  do  a  good  job  in 
the  library,  with  his  experience  and 
knowledge,  and  that  was  the  impor- 
tant thing  as  far  as  he  was  concerned 
— to  do  a  good  job  and  be  worth  the 
money  he  found  in  his  pay  envelope 
every  week. 

Then,  in  1943,  as  he  was  entering  an 
office  building,  he  slipped  on  the  highly 
polished  floor  and  fell,  breaking  his 
left  leg  just  below  the  hip.  At  the 
hospital  it  was  discovered  that  the 
bone  was  diseased  as  a  result  of  the 
war-time  injury,  and  that  was  why  it 
had  broken.  It  was  necessary  to  am- 
putate the  leg. 

"It's  funny,"  Joe  told  me  during  a 
pause  in  rehearsals  for  We,  the  People. 
"The  reason  I  went  into  that  office 
building  was  to  get  a  copy  of  'The 
Caissons  Go  Rolling  Along.'  I  needed 
it  for  a  date  I  had  to  sing  that  Satur- 
day at  an  American  Legion  banquet  in 
Brooklyn.  And  I  could  have  picked  up 
a  copy  of  the  music  at  the  NBC  library 
just  as  easily,  but  I  never  liked  to 
borrow  NBC  property — there  was  al- 
ways the  chance  I'd  lose  the  music 
somewhere,  or  it  would  be  torn  or 
something.  Since  I  was  passing  the 
publisher's  during  my  lunch  hour,  I 
thought  I'd  drop  in  and  buy  a  copy 
of  my  own.  And  the  floor  had  just 
been  waxed,  so — there  I  was,  with  a 
broken  leg." 

His  crutches  were  by  his  side,  and  as 
he  told  me  the  story  he  reached  down 
and   touched   them,   thoughtfully. 

"It   seemed   like   a   cruel   thing   just 


then,"  he  said  quietly.  "But  now  I 
know  it  wasn't  an  accident.  Nothing 
is  an  accident.  Losing  my  leg  was 
something   that   had   to   happen." 

In  those  first  days  in  the  hospital, 
though,  when  the  world  held  just  one 
fact  for  him — the  fact  that  he  now  had 
but  one  leg — in  those  days  it  wasn't 
possible  for  Joe  to  accept  his  personal 
tragedy  with  such  serene  philosophy. 
He  lay  there,  and  he  recalled  the  days 
of  his  great  success,  knowing  that  they 
were  gone  forever.  Always  before, 
with  the  optimism  of  an  Irishman  and 
a  showman,  he  had  been  able  to  be- 
lieve that  some  new  success  was  just 
around  the  corner  for  him.  Now  he 
had  no  such  illusions.  He  was  a  has- 
been,  a  cripple,  well  into  middle  age, 
useless. 

It  wasn't  the  money  so  much.  He 
had  some  savings,  his  song  royalties 
would  continue  coming  in,  and  NBC 
had  already  sent  word  that  his  job  in 
the  music  library  was  waiting  for  him 
when  he  recovered.  Financially,  he 
was  in  fairly  good  shape,  all  things 
considered.  But  suddenly  all  the  flavor 
had  gone  out  of  life,  and  upon  thinking 
it  over,  he  knew  why. 

His  singing  days  were  over,  he  be- 
lieved.   That  was  the  reason. 

He  would  be  Joe  White  of  the  music 
library,  and  that  was  all.  "You  re- 
member Joe  White,"  people  would  say. 
"Used  to  have  a  beautiful  voice,  years 
ago." 

When  Maureen  came  to  see  him,  he 
tried  to  be  cheerful  and  happy,  but  she 
knew  what  his  thoughts  were.  With 
the  eyes  of  love,  she  looked  at  him  and 
saw  that  something  had  gone  out  of  her 
husband — some  vital  essence  that  was 
nearly  as  important  as  life  itself.  Rid- 
ing home  to  their  house  in  .the  Bronx, 
she  worried  about  him,  and  she  went 
into  the  dimly  lighted  church  where 
she  and  Joe  had  worshiped  every  Sun- 
day for  years,  and  whispered  a  prayer 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin. 

Joe  and  Maureen  believe — they  know' 
— that  those  prayers  of  hers  were  an- 
swered. For  one  day  Maureen  took 
little  Bobby,  who  was  then  not  quite 
six,  with  her  to  visit  Joe  in  the  hos- 
pital. Now,  hospitals  have  rules 
against  allowing  children  to  visit  pa- 
tients, but  rules  are  made  to  be  broken 
when  there  is  a  reason. 

"It  will  do  him  so  much  good,"  Mau- 
reen pleaded  with  the  nurse  at  the 
desk.  "I  know  it  will.  If  you'll  only 
let  me  take  Bobby  in — just  this  once — " 

The  nurse  listened,  hesitated,  and 
Bobby  tiptoed  into  his  father's  room, 
awed  and  a  little  bit  scared.    But  when 


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Maureen  said,  "Now,  Bobby.  Go  on, 
sweetheart,  sing  the  song  we  practiced" 
— then  his  boyish  soprano  voice  rang 
out,  high  and  true  and  sweet. 

He  sang  "Ah,  Sweet  Mystery  of 
Life,"  and  Joe  lay  there  listening.  The 
boy  wasn't  trained — well,  naturally, 
nobody  had  thought  of  telling  him  how 
to  sing.  It  was  something  he  had 
picked  up  more  or  less  by  himself.  But 
he  had  the  voice,  Joe  realized,  the  true 
lyric  sweetness.  The  fifth  child  of  each 
generation.  .  .  . 

"Well,"  he  said  when  Bobby  had 
finished.  "That's  fine,  son.  Listen. 
Can  you  do  this?"  He  sang  a  bar  of 
the  song  himself,  phrasing  it  different- 
ly, more  expertly.  Bobby  grinned,  and 
gave  the  music  back  to  him  just  as  he 
had  sung  it. 

JOE  WHITE  drew  a  deep  breath,  and 
suddenly  there  were  tears  in  his  eyes. 
It  was  true!  Bobby  had  a  voice,  and 
he  had  the  singer's  instincts.  Joe's 
career  wasn't  finished.  It  was  begin- 
ning again,  through  his  son. 

He  reached  out  an  arm  and  drew 
Bobby  close  to  him.  "How'd  you  like 
to  have  me  teach  you  to  sing,  son?"  he 
asked.     "Do  you  think  that'd  be  fun?" 

Silently,  his  eyes  on  Joe's  face,  the 
child  nodded. 

Joe  was  right — it  has  been  fun.  It 
has  been  more  than  fun;  it  has  been  a 
new  life  for  both  the  boy  and  the  man. 
Bobby  took  to  singing  as  naturally  as 
a  bird  takes  to  flying.  He  soaked  up 
all  of  Joe's  accumulated  musical 
knowledge  and  put  it  to  use.  In  no 
time  at  all  he  was  appearing  on  Madge 
Tucker's  NBC  children's  programs, 
singing  at  entertainments  for  wounded 
veterans,  for  church  affairs,  for  dis- 
trict political  rallies.  And  Joe  has  been 
always  at  his  side. 

To  see  Joe  now,  you  wouldn't  suspect 
that  he  had  ever  known  despair.  His 
face  is  round  and  merry,  and  his  laugh 
rings  out  with  unaffected  merriment. 
Two  years  ago  he  gave  up  his  library 
job  at  NBC  to  devote  all  his  time  to 
teaching  Bobby  the  art  of  fine  singing. 

Bobby  is  now  ten,  a  dark-eyed, 
brown-haired  lad  with  his  father's 
round  face  and  sturdy  build.  In  the 
last  two  years  he  has  appeared  on  sev- 
eral top  radio  programs,  both  singing 
and  acting.  On  the  Fred  Allen  pro- 
gram he  has  been  heard  ten  times. 

He's  a  real  trouper,  Joe  says  fondly. 
He  can  eat  any  time,  and  he  can  sleep 
any  place.  After  an  out-of-town  sing- 
ing engagement,  he  curls  up  in  a  bus  or 
train  seat  and  falls  asleep  before  the 
journey  is  really  started. 

While  he  loves  to  sing,  Bobby  isn't 
impressed  with  his  own  importance. 
Joe  and  Maureen  have  seen  to  that. 
Unlike  many  radio  and  stage  children 
in  New  York,  he  does  not  attend  the 
Professional  Children's  School.  He 
goes  to  St.  Jerome's  Parochial  School, 
where  his  average  last  term  was  98.7 
per  cent,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  sing- 
ing jobs  had  caused  him  to  be  absent 
twenty  days  out  of  the  three  months. 
Around  a  radio  studio  he's  a  joy — 
friendly,  polite,  quiet,  and  invariably 
on  time  for  rehearsal.  After  all,  Joe 
is  a  real  trouper  too,  and  he  has  taught 
Bobby  everything  he  knows. 

But  I  think  that  no  matter  how  much 
Joe  does  for  Bobby — and  it  may  well 
be  that  he  has  already  set  his  feet 
firmly  on  the  road  to  stardom — Joe 
will  always  owe  a  greater  debt  to  his 
son.  You  should  think  so  too,  if  you 
could  see  Joe's  face  when  Bobby  starts 
to  sing — the  pride  in  it,  the  happiness, 
the  thankfulness  at  having  found  a 
new  reason  to  live. 


n. 


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I 

M 

77 


That  Man  Named  Moore 

(Continued  from  page  27) 


R 
M 

7P 


"In  modelin-g,  my  slip 
joTtZ^Z^  mwi  be  skin-Mhooth— It 

must  not  ride  up,  twist 
or  pull  at  seams — AND 
THIS  IS  ITI  It's  my  pet 
slip." 


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sundry    other-    most    peculiar    articles. 

He  carted  this  collection  of  trash 
into  the  audition  studio,  arranged  it 
around  his  chair,  and  sat  down.  "What," 
asked  an  attendant,  "is  all  that?  A 
treasure  hunt?" 

"My  props  for  the  act,"  Garry  said, 
with  dignity. 

"So  he  thinks  we  got  television  aw- 
ready,"  the  attendant  said. 

It  was  a  relatively  simple  idea.  Garry 
had  recollected  the  then  current  feud 
between  Jack  Benny  and  Allen  on  the 
subject  of  Benny's  rendition  of  Flight 
of  the  Bumblebee,  and  this  was  a  kind 
of  Rube  Goldberg  contraption  to  kill 
the  bee.  You  started  by  climbing  the 
stepladder,  and  followed  a  series  of 
outlandish  happenstances  until  eventu- 
ally the  manhole  cover  fell  on  the  bee, 
demolishing  it.  Garry  ad-libbed 
throughout. 

When  the  final  crash  came,  at  the 
audition,  the  others  present  rolled  on 
the  floor  with  laughter.  Half  an  hour 
later  Garry  had  the  guest  spot  on 
Sunday's  show. 

It  must  be  remembered  that  the  dia- 
logue accompanying  the  act  was  ad 
lib.  All  of  it.  He  went  into  his  routine 
at  full  speed,  followed  through  to  the 
crashing  climax,  and  waited  confidently 
for  his  laugh.  There  was  only  a  be- 
wildered silence  in  the  audience.  Then 
with  sudden  shock  he  recalled  that  he 
had  omitted  the  key  device  that  ex- 
plained the  entire  sequence. 

He  was  already  on-stage  for  the  sec- 
ond show  to  the  Coast,  determined  this 
time  to  wow  'em,  when  he  was  mo- 
tioned off  from  the  wings.  They  had 
been  running  over-time,  he  was  told, 
and  Fred  had  decided  to  cut  his  act. 
He  talked  with  Allen  afterward.  "I 
flopped,  didn't  J?"  Garry  said  miser- 
ably.- 

"My  boy,"  said  Allen,  "you  didn't 
just  flop.    You  was  bombed." 

"You  think  I  should  go  back  to  Balti- 
more?" 

"Did  they  hear  you  there  tonight?" 

Garry  blushed.  "I  wired  everybody 
to  listen." 

"Then  will  they  let  you  come  back?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Go  and  learn  your  job,"  Fred  said 
kindly.  "Come  here  in  another  two 
years  and  we'll  try  it  again." 

Garry  returned  in  two  years,  but  not 
to  Fred  Allen.  He  had  tried  his  hand 
at  writing  in  the  interim,  and  now  had 
agreed    to    collaborate    with    another 


writer  named  F.  Scott  Fitzgerald 
(Garry  was  not  as  well-read  then  as 
he  is  now,  and  to  him  "Scotty"  was 
just  someone  who  beat  a  typewriter 
too  and  not  one  of  the  finest  literary 
minds  of  the  generation) . 

For  seventeen  months  Garry  and 
Scott  and  Zelma,  Fitzgerald's  talented 
wife,  attempted  to  turn  out  a  series 
which  was  to  be  part  serious  work, 
part  nonsense.  It  was  a  hectic  and 
fruitless  period.  Fitzgerald's  genius 
had  expressed  itself  at  first  in  sound 
hard  work,  then  in  terms  of  despair  at 
what  he  thought  was  his  own  inability 
to  put  on  paper  what  he  felt  and  be- 
lieved. In  consequence  he  drank, 
monumentally.  Garry,  whom  Scott 
grew  to  think  of  as  the  son  he  never 
had,  took  care  of  his  friend  as  best  he 
could,  trying  to  understand  when,  after 
ten  hours  work,  Scott  would  throw  the 
entire  script  out  the  window,  mutter, 
"We'll  start  all  over,"  and  then  pass 
quietly  out  on  the  nearest  couch  or 
bed. 

Once,  when  they  were  in  a  cab  in 
Washington,  D.  C. — with  Scott  in  his 
usual  condition — they  passed  the  statue 
of  Francis  Scott  Key,  who  not  only 
wrote  The  Star  Spangled  Banner  but 
was  an  ancestor  of  whom  Fitzgerald 
was  very  proud.  Scott  shouted  for  the 
cab  to  halt,  then  got  out  and  hid  under 
a  bush.  "Run  around  behind  him,"  he 
told  Garry,  "and  wave  your  handker- 
chief to  attract  his  attention  while  I  go 
past.  I  can't  let  the  old  boy  see  me  in 
this    condition." 

"The  old  boy  is  made  out  of  bronze," 
Garry  pointed  out. 

But  Scott  insisted.  So  while  Garry 
stood  behind  the  statue,  shouting  and 
waving  his  handkerchief,  Fitzgerald 
leaped  into  the  cab  and  disappeared, 
leaving  Garry  to  elbow  his  way  through 
the  crowds  he  had  attracted.  Old  Mr. 
Key  stared  imperturbably  on  into  the 
dawn's  early  light.  .  .  . 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Garry  de- 
cided there  was  not  much  future  in  his 
collaborative   arrangement  with   Scott. 

He  persuaded  the  Blue  Network  to 
try  the  Club  Matinee  idea,  and  after 
that  went  with  Jimmy  Durante,  which 
was  the  best  thing  that  ever  happened 
to  him.  There  had  not  been  much 
money,  just  professional  satisfaction,  in 
the  Club  Matineee  job;  now  there  were 
both.  Garry,  with  his  subtle  humor 
built  on  personality  rather  than  on 
gags,    was    to    complement    Durante's 


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purely  gag  stint.  They  made  a  perfect 
pair. 

After  a  time,  however,  Garry  began 
throwing  in  an  occasional  gag  on  his 
own,  to  step  up  the  tempo  of  laughter 
and  thus  salve  his  ego:  after  all,  they 
chuckled  with  him,  but  they  roared 
with  Durante.  Later  he  started  put- 
ting in  one  gag  for  the  audience  for 
every  smooth  bit  of  business  he  wrote 
in  for  himself.  Eventually,  of  course, 
his  part  of  the  show  consisted  entirely 
of  gags. 

It  made  him  a  little  sad.  But  he  had 
married  Nell  by  this  time,  and  there 
were  Martin  and  Garry,  Jr.  to  care  for, 
and  money  to  consider.    Lots  of  it. 

But  he  promised  himself  something. 
Someday,  he  said,  someday  I'll  have  a 
show  I  can  manage  any  way  I  like.  And 
when  that  day  comes  I'll  do  work  again 
that  I'm  proud  of,  something  original 
with  me  and  not  cribbed  out  of  a  riling 
cabinet — 

WHEN,  finally,  Durante  accepted  pic- 
"  ture  commitments,  and  decided  to 
move  his  show  to  Hollywood,  Garry  said 
to  Nell,  "Leave  us  face  it,  I  can't  see 
sticking  the  kids  and  you  and  me  into  a 
hotel  suite  for  that  length  of  time — we 
can't  get  an  apartment — so  let's  take  a 
house. 

"Only,"  he  added  firmly,  "we're  not 
going  Hollywood.  No  mansion.  And 
positively  no  swimming  pool,  with  a 
Great  Dane  loping  around  it." 

They  found  a  sweet  little  place, 
finally,  with  only  four  bedrooms  and 
four  baths  and  a  den  and  a  few  little 
extras,  and  the  swimming  pool  wasn't 
very  big. 

On  this  last  trip  to  New  York  he 
spent  a  considerable  amount  of  time 
denying  vehemently  that  he  had  a 
swimming  pool  or  a  mauve  Cadillac  or 
that  he  lunched  daily  at  Romanoff's  or 
that  his  grounds  swarmed  with  Great 
Danes. 

"Well,  just  one  Great  Dane,"  he  ad- 
mitted, "only  I  didn't  know  he  was. 
That  is,  I  found  him  on  a  golf  course 
and  he  was  just  a  starved  mongrel- 
looking  pup,  without  his  ears  clipped. 
But  I  took  him  to  a  vet  for  worm-shots 
and  the  vet  said  he  was  a  fine  Dane." 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  need  not  have 
bothered  reassuring  anyone.  Garry 
Moore  could  no  more  go  to  Hollywood 
than  he  could  spread  his  arms  and  fly. 
He  is  a  shrewd,  sensible,  immensely 
intelligent  man  with  a  lively  awareness 
of  the  ridiculous  in  himself  and  in 
others.  He  has  dreams  and  aspirations 
far  beyond  those  of  other  radio  comedi- 
ans, but  he  is  also  a  good  technician;  if 
the  public  doesn't  like  what  he  likes, 
then  he  defers  to  the  public,  who  after 
all  buy  the  products  of  the  sponsors 
who  pay  him  his  salary. 

In  hisj  relaxing  moments,  which  are 
few  enough,  he  has  two  passions:  his 
home  and  family,  with  whom  he  leads 
an  orderly  and  exceptionally  normal 
life,  and  jazz.  He  is  a  devotee  not  of 
be-bop  or  the  fad  stuff,  but  of  good, 
solid,  two-beat  Dixieland,  the  kind  he 
spends  hours  listening  to  at  Eddie  Con- 
don's in  New  York  or  at  Billy  Berg's  on 
the  Coast. 

Perhaps  I  should  not  have  said  "re- 
laxing moments"  because  I  have  never 
seen  Garry  more  relaxed  and  happy 
than  he  is  when  in  the  midst  of  work. 
Perhaps  that  is  why,  when  just  recently 
he  began  to  check  his  fan  mail  for  the 
first  time  in  years,  he  discovered  to  his 
surprise  that  there  was  an  awful  lot  of 
it.  If  his  shows  turn  out  to  be  among 
the  best  on  the  air,  it  won't  be  any- 
body's fault  but  Garry's. 


//  your  hair 
Books  like  THIS 


when  it  should 
look  tike  THIS 


e  HELENE  CURTIS 


•& 


wOwQj 


the  Cosmetic  for  hair ... 
greasetess.. .  not  a  hair  oil 


WHAT    SUAVE    IS 

The  amazing  discovery  beauticians  recommend  to 
make  hair  wonderfully  easy  to  arrange  and  keep  in 
place  .  .  .  cloud-soft  .  .  .  romantically  lustrous  .  .  . 
alive  with  dancing  highlights  .  .  .  control-able  even 
after  shampoo  .  .  .  safe  from  sun's  drying  action! 
For  the  whole  family,  men-folks,  too. 
Rinses  out  in  a  twinkling. 

WHAT    SUAVE    IS    NOT 

NOT  a  greasy  "slicker  downer"  .  .  .  not  a  hair  oil, 
lacquer  or  pomade  .  .  .  not  an  upholstery 
"smearer"  .  .  .  not  a  dirt  collector  .  .  .  not  smelly 
.  .  .  not  drying;  no  alcohol  .  .  .  not  sticky  .  .  . 

*some  pronounce  it  ''sivahv"  .  .  .  others  say 
"sivayv".  .  ,  either  uay  it  means  beautiful  hair. 


AT    YOUR    BEAUTY    SHOP,    DRUG    STOIIE,    DEPARTMENT    STORK 


1? 

10 


R 
M 

80 


Itt 


Carelre 


JVNUVWHG 
AMERICA 

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ready  to  en\oy" 


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^FORMATION 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's  something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,   write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information  Booth  or  by  mail — but  be 
sure  to  sign  full  name  and  address,  and  attach  this  box  to  your  letter. 


wamA 

LUCILLE  WALL 


CONFUSED 

Dear  Editor: 

Please  tell  me  how 
Lucille  Wall,  of  Por- 
tia Faces  Life,  re- 
ceived her  recent  in- 
jury that  kept  her 
off  the  air  so  long. 
Like  all  of  her  fans, 
I  missed  her  terribly 
and  was  so  inter- 
ested in  her  com- 
plete recovery.  One 
day    the    announcer 

said  she  fell  in  her  kitchen.  But,  according 
to  a  Hollywood  columnist,  we  were  told 
that  Lucille  was  recuperating  from  a  serious 
auto  accident.  So  you  can  see,  I'm  very 
much  confused.  Won't  you  set  me  straight? 

Mrs.  J.  E. 
Jackson,  Miss. 

We'll  be  happy  to.  Lucille,  who  has 
played  the  leading  role  in  Portia  Faces  Life 
ever  since  its  premiere  eight  years  ago, 
suffered  a  skull  fracture  and  a  serious  con- 
cussion when  she  slipped  against  the  open 
door  of  her  refrigerator  in  her  Manhattan 
apartment.  This  was  in  February;  she  re- 
cuperated in  California  during  the  ensuing 
three  months.  And  while  she  was  off  the 
air,  Anne  Seymour  took  over  her  role. 

ALIAS   POPSICLE   PETE 

Dear  Editor: 

Has  Ben  Cooper 
left  radio?  I  don't 
seem  to  hear  him 
any  more.  As  he 
was  one  of  my  fa- 
vorites, I  hope  he'll 
be  back  soon. 

Miss  H.  S. 
Silbley,    Iowa 

Ben,  who  former- 
ly played  the  part 
of  Brad  on  The 
Second  Mrs.  Burton,  has  given  up  his 
radio  career  to  become  Bob  Feller's 
Champion  of  American  Youth.  He  will 
help  distribute  the  $100,000  Popsicle  Youth 
Awards  to  combat  juvenile  delinquency.  To 
avoid  being  called  a  publicity  seeker,  Ben 
will  drop  his  name  and  be  known  merely 
as  Popsicle  Pete.  Although  only  fourteen, 
he  can  point  with  pride  to  his  past  theatri- 
cal experience.  He  was  practically  reared 
in  "Life  With  Father"  in  which  he  began 
at  the  age  of  eight,  as  Harlan,  and  grew 
into  the  part  of  older  brother  Whitney. 
During  the  three  years  he  was  in  this  show, 
his  hair  was  dyed  carrot-red. 

STILL  ON  THE  AIR 

Dear  Editor: 
I  have  lost  track  of  three  of  my  favorite 


BEN  COOPER 


programs — can  you  tell  me  where  to  find 
What's  The  Name  of  That  Song,  Strike  It 
Rich,  and  Leave  It  To  The  Girls? 

Mrs.  S.  B. 
Chicago  23,  111. 

These  three  are 
still  on  the  air. 
What's  The  Name 
Of  That  Song  is 
broadcast  on  the 
Mutual  network 
Sundays  at  3:00 
P.M.  EST.  And,  in 
answer  to  many 
queries  concerning 
Dud  Williamson,  the 
former  M.C.  of  this  BINNIE  BARNES 

show,      he      passed 

away  in  May  and  was  replaced  by  Bill 
Guinn.  Strike  It  Rich  is  heard  Sunday 
at  9:30  P.M.  EST  on  the  CBS  network, 
Todd  Russell  is  the  M.C.  And  on  Friday 
evenings  at  8:30  P.M.  EST  tune  in  to 
Leave  It  To  The  Girls  on  the  Mutual  net- 
work. The  panel  is  composed  of  Constance 
Bennett,  Robin  Chandler  and  Binnie  Barnes. 

DON'S  KID  BROTHER 

Dear  Editor: 

I've  enjoyed  Welcome  Travelers  for  over 
a  year  now,  and  so  I've  been  particu- 
larly interested  in  your  articles  written  by 
Tommy  Bartlett.  However,  I'm  very  curious 
about  the  announcer  Jim  Ameche.  Is  he 
older  or  younger  than  his  brother  Don? 

Miss  A.  R. 
Bowling  Green,  Ohio 

Jim,  younger  than 
Don  by  five  years, 
owes  much  of  his 
success  in  radio  to 
big  brother  Don. 
After  graduating 
from  high  school  in 
Kenosho,  Wise,  Jim 
had  thought  little 
about  acting  until 
one  day  Don  urged 
him    to    try    for    an  JIM  AMECHE 

audition.    He   tried, 
he  won,  and  he's  been  going  strong  since. 

IN    MOTION    PICTURES,    TOO. 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  listened  to  my  favorite  radio  pro- 
gram, My  Friend  Irma,  and  have  enjoyed 
it  so  much.  However,  I'd  like  to  know 
which  part  Leif  Erikson  plays,  and  wasn't 
he  in  the  movies? 

Miss  A.  P. 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Leif  plays  the  part  of  Richard  Rhine- 
lander,  III,  Jane's  boyfriend.  And,  as 
you've  guessed,  he  was  in  motion  pictures. 
His    last    picture    was    "Arabian    Nights." 


OOTH 


we'll  try  to  find  the  answers 


PLAYS  BOTH  ROLES 

Dear  Editor: 

Just  to  settle  a 
little  friendly  argu- 
ment, please  tell  me 
if  the  actress  who 
plays  the  part  of 
Connie  Wakefield 
in  The  Right  to 
Happiness  is  the 
same  one  who  plays 
Leslie  Palmer  in 
Portia  Faces  Life.  I  LUISE  BARKLIE 

say   it   is   the   same 

person,   my  friend   says   no.    Who's   right? 
Louisville,  Ky.      .  C.E.E. 

It  looks  as  though  you're  right  as  both 
of  these  roles  are  played  by  Luise  Barklie. 
Luise,  a  native  of  Philadelphia,  at  first 
intended  to  become  a  concert  pianist  until 
she  realized  she  could  never  become  a  first- 
rate  musician.  Switching  to  dramatics,  she 
broke  into  radio  via  Helen   Trent. 

BUSY   JUVENILE 

Dear   Editor: 

Could  you  tell 
me  whether  Anne 
Francis,  who  was 
featured  on  the 
cover  of  Radio  Mir- 
ror (May  1947),  is 
making  any  pic- 
tures or  doing  any 
radio  work  now? 
Mr.  E.  M. 
Providence  5,  R.  I.  ANNE  FRANCIS 

She  certainly  is,  and  modeling,  besides. 
That  pretty  girl  on  the  cover  of  Junior 
Bazaar,  September  issue,  is  none  other 
than  Anne  Francis.  And  you'll  see  her  in 
the  motion  picture,  "Portrait  of  Jennie,"  in 
which  she  has  a  small  but  effective  role. 
As  if  making  pictures  and  modeling  were 
not  enough,  she  seems  to  have  time  for 
radio  work,  too,  as  she  is  frequently  heard 
on  daytime  serials,  such  as  When  a  Girl 
Marries  and  Portia  Faces  Life. 

HOW  HOOPER  RATES  THEM 

Dear  Editor: 

Please  tell  me  how  the  following  pro- 
grams rank  as  daytime  programs:  Front 
Page  Farrell,  Just  Plain  Bill,  Portia  Faces 
Life,  When  a  Girl  Marries,  Backstage  Wife, 
and  Young  Widder  Brown. 

Miss  M.  D.  E. 
Six  Miles,  S.  C. 

According  to  the  June  30th  report  of  the 
Hooper  Survey  of  the  top  10  daytime 
serials,  here's  how  the  above  serials  rated: 
Portia  Faces  Life  was  in  third  place,  When 
a  Girl  Marries  and  Backstage  Wife  tied  for 
fifth,  trailed  by  Young  Widder  Brown.  Way 
behind  in  seventeenth  and  eighteenth  places 
were  Front  Page  Farrell  and  Just  Plain 
Bill.  You  should  bear  in  mind  that  by  the 
time  you  read  this,  the  standing  of  these 
serials  may  have  changed  considerably,  as 
popularity   of   each    varies   week    to   week. 


Now!  Keep  your  hands 
as  kissable  as  your  lips. ..with  new 
Woodbury  Lotion 

It's    Beauty-Blended  .  .  . 
Actually    2-lotions-in-l 

1.  A  softening  lotion!  Helps  bring  your  hands 
adorable  new  softness.  Beauty-blended  with  luxury 
lanolin  and  other  costlier-than-usual  skin 
smoothers. 

2.  A  protective  lotion,  too!  This  same  Woodbury 
beauty-blend  helps  "glove"  your  hands  against 
roughening,  reddening  wind  and  cold,  the  drying 
effect  of  soap  and  water. 

At  drug  and  cosmetic  counters,  1 5c,  29c,  49c  plus  tax 

MADE    BY   THE    MAKERS    OF    FAMOUS   WOODBURY   FACIAL    SOAP   AND   OTHER   AIDS   TO  LOVELINESS 


R 

M 

81 


<^&tch  the  lads 


^  Don't  put  up  with  dull,  mousy 
hair  a  moment  longer.  Let  Nestle 
Colorinse  give  your  hair  the  warm, 
rich  color,  silken  sheen  and  beauti- 
ful highlights  that  no  shampoo  alone 
could  possibly  give.  Absolutely  safe, 
washes  out  with  shampooing. 

Remember  —  whan  you  oik  for  "Colorinse"  —  be 
•ure  to  infill  on  the  genuine  NESHE  COLORINSE. 

COLORINSE 


i 

M 

82 


KEEP  HAIR  IN  PLACE  ALL  DAY  LONG 

Delicately  scented  Nestle  Hair  Lacquers 
keep  all  styles  of  hair-dos  well  groomed. 
104, 25<  and  504  at  all  toilet  goods  counters. 

Nettle.  orWnetersoi  permanent  wavlnc.  MerMen.Cena. 


TRIUMPH 


the  Month 


Dear  Papa  David: 

Nobody  loves  a  fat  man,  according 
to  the  old  saying.  And  the  fat  boy,  tra- 
ditionally jolly  and  good-natured,  is  the 
natural  butt  for  practical  jokers.  I 
learned  this  early  in  school,  where  1  was 
at  first  inclined  to  resent  such  horseplay, 
until  I  found  that  a  fat  sorehead  is  even 
more  ridiculous.  With  more  or  less  re- 
signed good  grace  I  fell  into  the  pre- 
destined role  of  buffoon  and  class  jester. 
However,  I  will  admit  that  I  got  a  keen 
personal  satisfaction  out  of  Sidney 
Greenstreet's  accomplished  screen  vil- 
lainy and  the  fictional  Nero  Wolfe's 
acute  reasoning. 

Things  went  along  fairly  smoothly 
until  my  senior  year  in  high  school, 
when  a  hot  contest  developed  between 
the  fraternities  and  the  independents 
over  class  offices.  Some  joker  started 
an  underground  campaign  which  got 
out  of  hand,  and  to  everybody's  surprise, 
I  was  elected  president  on  a  write-in 
ballot. 

I  was  burned  up  over  the  deal,  be- 
cause I  knew  I  never  would  have  ob- 
tained office  legitimately.  The  rest  of 
the  class  was  disconcerted  to  find  the 
class  buffoon  at  its  helm.  When  time 
came  for  the  acceptance  speech,  I  out- 
lined my  proposed  program.  Then  I 
opened  my  heart  and  showed  my  true 
feelings — for  once.  I  pointed  out  that  a 
number  of  countries  had  got  into  serious 
trouble  by  handling  the  ballot  carelessly 
and  allowing  clowns  to  come  into  power. 
I  told  them  I  was  hurt  by  their  action, 
because  it  had  not  been  taken  seriously. 
Then  I  formally  declined  the  post  of 
president. 

Believe  me,  then  and  there  I  learned 
that  life  can  be  beautiful.  For  that  class 
assembly  turned  around,  renamed  me 
president  by  acclaim,  and  indicated 
wholehearted  support  of  the  proposed 
class  program.  And  from  that  experi- 
ence I  learned  that  people  will  respect 
sincerity,  even  when  it  comes  from  a 
surprising  source.  D.K. 


A  STAR  WILL  SHINE 


The    len-dolla 


follows 


Dear  Papa  David: 

Ever  since  I  can  remember  we  lived  in 
the  same  house,  used  the  same  old  fur- 
niture, and  had  the  same  yard,  without 
grass. 

Now  that  I'm  fourteen  years  old,  I 
understand  that  we  are  poor  and  we 
can't  have  everything  that  we  want.  I 
know  that  we  have  much  more  than 
some  people  in  this  world.  It  makes  life 
feel  beautiful  to  know  that  someday  a 
star  will  shine  bright  and  stay  bright. 
And  if  your  hopes  are  big  enough,  yobr 
dream  will  come  true. 

D.W. 

LIKE  A  PARTY! 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Rose  and  I  were  on  our  lunch  hour. 
We  worked  as  stenographers  in  the 
Railroad  Superintendent's  office. 

As  we  entered  the  waiting  room  that 
day  our  chatter  were  hushed  when  we 
noticed  a  little  old  lady  sound  asleep 
on  one  of  the  hard  benches.  Her  thin 
white  hair  was  drawn  to  a  small  knot  at 
the  back  of  her  head.  A  light  jacket  was 
spread  over  her  shoulders.  She  wore  a 
faded  cotton  dress  and  her  thin-soled 
shoes  looked  as  if  they  had  been  wet  for 
a  long  time.  A  small  bundle  of  clothes 
was  placed  under  her  head  for  a  pillow, 
and  her  blue  veined  hands  clutched  a 
little  old  handbag.  An  old  umbrella 
without  a  handle  leaned  against  the 
seat. 

"Is  this  what  happens  to  some  when 
they  are  old?"  we  thought.  Would  we  be 
like  that  some  day?  We  wanted  to 
help  her. 

We  hurried  on  to  Hattie,  the  negro 
attendant,  to  ask  for  help.  She  had 
been  there  a  long  time  and  we  had 
often  heard  of  her  good  deeds.  Hattie 
went  to  the  dining  room  for  a  box  of 
lunch  and  we  started  up  town  for 
warm  clothes.  We  went  to  a  department 
store  where  we  had  charge  accounts 
and  soon  found  what  we  were  looking 


Ltfe  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby  and  Don  Becker,  is  heard  Mon.-Frl.  on  NBC  at  12 


for.    A  warm  black  coat,  dress,  purse, 
scarf   and   underthings. 

Rose  and  I  took  the  new  purse  back 
to  our  office  and  when  we  got  through 
with  those  seventy-five  hard  working 
railroad  clerks,  dispatchers,  truckers, 
etc.,  the  purse  looked  heavy  and  full. 

Some  of  the  passengers  became  in- 
terested. One  well  dressed  lady  repacked 
her  suitcases  and  had  one  to  spare  for 
the  old  lady.  Another  gave  her  an  um- 
brella and  another  a  pin  for  the  neat 
dress. 

Hattie  and  the  women  passengers  took 
over  from  there,  as  we  girls  had  to  get 
back  to  work.  They  said  it  was  like  a 
party  when  the  old  lady  saw  all  the 
new  things.  Hattie  dressed  her  and  took 
her  across  the  street  for  new  shoes. 
They  had  a  hard  time  convincing  the 
old  lady  the  money  was  hers!  Rose  and 
I  had  one  of  the  happiest  days  of  our 
lives. 

Mrs.  O.  J.  V. 

INTEGRITY 

Dear  Papa  David: 

At  the  age  of  two,  our  sturdy,  hand- 
some son  Don  began  to  suffer  attacks 
of  epilepsy,  and  for  the  next  eight  years 
we  tried  every  "cure"  that  came  our 
way.  Finally  a  friend  recommended  a 
chiropractor  in  whom  she  had  great 
faith,  and  he  agreed  to  call  at  the 
house  in  the  evening  and  give  treat- 
ments at  the  boy's  bedtime.  He  at  least 
was  different  from  the  others.  He  said: 
"I  may  be  able  to  help  him.  I'll  try." 

He  came  perhaps  a  dozen  times,  and 
we  used  to  sit  around  afterwards  drink- 
ing tea  and  talking.  We  wanted  to  pay 
for  the  treatments  as  he  gave  them,  but 
it  was  always:  "Wait  awhile.  We'll  see 
if  he's  better."  Finally,  and  regretfully, 
he  gave  up  trying  to  cure  the  epilepsy, 
and  although  he  had  helped  Don's 
nerves  a  great  deal,  he  refused  to  take 
a  cent. 

I  am  happy  to  say  that  now,  at  sixteen, 
our  boy  seems  to  have  quite  outgrown 
his  trouble,  but  the  only  one  in  all  the 
hard  years  who  didn't  add  to  his  fortune 
through  our  misfortune  was  this  one 
chiropractor. 

Dr.  Y  has  been  banished  from  the 
Coast  for  years  now,  but  I  write  him 
and  send  a  card  at  Christmas.  He's  a 
Japanese. 

Mrs.  F.  W. 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50 
EACH  MONTH   FOR   YOUR   LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a 
key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-forgotten 
friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant 
incident,  which  suddenly  illuminated  the 
whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring 
such  a  memory,  won't  you  write  to  Papa 
David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers 
best  each  month,  Radio  Mirror  will  pay  fifty 
dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have 
room  enough  to  print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters 
can  be  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be 
Beautiful  letter  to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror 
Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  N.Y.  17,  N.Y. 


Noon,  PST;  1  P.M.  MST;  2  P.M.  CST;  3  P.M.  EST. 


a  finer,  different   '',,l'fiF 
ftnd  of  silverplate 

Sterling  Irdaidwiia 

two  blocks  o£ 

Sterling  SU. :•     ^ 

or  over-plated  Hnds. 

Stays  lovelier  longer ! 
That's  for  me! 


HOLMES  &  EDWARDS 

STERLING  INLAID9 
SILVERPLATE 

..f-cT&t-.. 

^s>— — ^ 

HERE  AND  HERE 
It's  Sterling  Inlaid 


*Two  blocks  of  sterling  silver  are  invisibly 
inlaid  at  backs  of  bowls  and  handles  of 
most  used  spoons  and  forks  to  make  this 
different,  finer  silverplate  stay  lovelier 
longer! 

LOVELY  PATTERNS?  The  loveliest!  Lovely 
Lady,  Danish  Princess  and  Youth,  all  made  in 
the  U.S.A.  by  the  International  Silver  Company. 

PRICED  RIGHT?  Indeed  yes!  Unlike  so  many 
other  things  the  price  of  Holmes  &  Edwards  has 
not  gone  up!  Still  only  $68.50  for  52  pieces, 
service  for  eight  with  chest.    (No  Federal  Tax.) 

WHERE  TO   BUY?  At  iewelry  and  department 

stores   everywhere.  Lovely  Lady  Danish  Princess  Youth 

Copyright  1941,  The  International  Silver  Co.,  Helmet  t  Edwards  Dlv.,  Merita,  Cord.  Sold  li  Ciiedi  by:  Me  T.  Eatei  C«.,  Lid.  °«ef.  U.S.  Pet.  Oft. 


83 


it's  guaranteed  by 

GOOD  HOUSEKEEPING 

MAGAZINE 


$Cf*7ee*W0Ve  IS  THE  machineless  heat  method 

IT  IS  NOT  A  COLD  WAVE! 

THERE'S  NO  NEUTRALIZING— NO  GUESSWORK-NO  TURBANS- 
NO  TIMING-NO  ODOR-NO  SOAKING  YOUR  HEAD  FOR  HOURS 


Women  from  coast  to  coast  are  add- 
ing their  seal  of  approval  to  this 
highly  endorsed  home  permanent. 
You,  too,  will  acclaim  Bu-Tee-Wave 
for  its  wonderful  speed,  ease,  simplic- 
ity and  amazingly  thrilling  results. 

ONLY  24  CURLS  required  for  a 
complete  and  glamorous  permanent. 


crf?a4e&7&ttM 


Money-back  guarantee, 
if  not  satisfied! 


With  Bu-Tee-Wave's  lanolized 
solution,  curls  and  waves  are  gently 
steamed  into  your  hair  .  .  .  and  no 
reconditioning  rinses  are  required. 
Bu-Tee-Wave  gives  you  a  complete 
permanent  IN  A  LITTLE  OVER 
TWO  HOURS  FROM  START  TO 
FINISH.  Just  unwind  the  curlers  and 
comb  your  hair  into  gorgeous 
natural  waves  which  will  give  you 
months  of  "permanent"  satisfaction. 

$098 

Complete    Set  W  Plus  5c  Fed.  Tax 

Refills  for  Future  Waves 


*1 


20 


Plus  5c  Fed.  Tax 


It 

M 

84 


At  leading  drug  and  department  stores,  also  Ward 's  catalog.  If  not  yet  available 
in  your  city,  send  remittance.  Shipment  will  be  made  via  parcel  post  prepaid. 

HALGAR,    INC.,    283  E.    GRAND    AVE.,    CHICAGO    11,    ILL. 

Available  in  U.  S.  A.  only 


Food  and  Frolic 

(Continued  from  page  63) 

the  cat.  Using  a  tooth'  pick  to  apply 
melted  chocolate,  outline  cat's  head, 
tail,  legs  and  long  whiskers. 


HALLOWEEN  PUNCH 

!/2   pound  dried  I   cup  lemon  juice 

apricots  I    cup  bottled  apple 

2  cups  water  juice 

%  cup  honey  7  cups  carbonated 

I   cup  orange  juice  water 

Orange  slices 
Lemon  slices 
Cook  apricots  in  water  until  tender. 
Press  fruit  and  juice  through  sieve; 
combine  with  honey  and  fruit  juices. 
Chill  in  refrigerator.  Pour  over  ice 
and  add  carbonated  water;  garnish 
with  orange  and  lemon  slices.  Serve 
immediately.  Makes  25  punch-cup 
servings. 

CHOCOLATE  KISSES 


2  egg  whites 
j/4  teaspoon  cream  of 
tartar 

pinch  of  salt 
5  tablespoons  sugar 


5  tablespoons 
chopped    nuts 

3  squares  bitter 
chocolate,  melted 
1/4  teaspoon  vanilla 


Beat  egg  whites  until  frothy.  Add 
cream  of  tartar  and  salt.  Beat  until 
stiff,  but  not  dry.  Gradually  add  sugar, 
one  tablespoon  at  a  time,  sprinkling  it 
over  top  of  egg  whites.  Gently  fold  in 
nuts,  chocolate  and  vanilla.  Drop  by 
teaspoonsful  onto  a  lightly  greased 
cookie  sheet.  Bake  in  a  slow  oven 
(275°F.)  for  20  to  25  minutes.  Makes 
2  dozen  kisses. 


HOT  POT  PIE 


I    pound  ground 

beef 
I    (II  ounce)  can 

condensed    tomato 


soup 

I   teaspoon  salt 
'/t  teaspoon    pepper 

I   cup  canned  whole- 
kernel  corn 


1  cup  yellow  corn- 
meal 

%  teaspoon  salt 

2  cups  boiling  water 
I    onion,    finely 

chopped 
I   tablespoon  chili 

powder 
74  cup  whole   ripe 

olives    (optional) 

Stir  cornmeal  and  salt  into  boiling 
water.  Cook,  stirring  constantly,  until 
thick,  continue  cooking  over  very  low 
heat  5  more  minutes,  stirring  occasion- 
ally. Spread  two-thirds  of  the  cooked 
cornmeal  over  bottom  and  sides  of  a 
deep  baking  dish.  Mix  together  re- 
maining ingredients  and  pour  into  dish. 
Spread  remaining  cornmeal  over  the 
top  of  the  mixture.  Bake  in  a  mod- 
erate oven  (350°F.)  la/2  hours.  This  will 
make  a  complete  supper  if  served  with 
a  crisp  Cross  Bones  Salad.  Makes  six 
servings. 


ORAN&E-BLACK  LOAF  CAKE 


'/j  cup  shortening 
1/2  teaspoon  grated 
lemon    rind 
2  teaspoons    grated 
orange    rind 
V2   cup  sugar 


2  eggs,   unbeaten 
I'/j  cups  sifted  flour 
2  teaspoons  baking 

powder 
(/4  teaspoon   salt 
2  tablespoons  milk 
'/2   cup  corn   syrup 

Cream  shortening;  blend  with  rinds. 
Add  sugar  gradually;  beat  vigorously; 
add  corn  syrup,  beating  until  light  and 
fluffy.  Add  eggs  singly,  beating  well 
after  each  addition.  Stir  in  mixed  and 
sifted  dry  ingredients  alternately  with 
milk.  Pour  into  prepared  9"  x  5"  x  3" 
loaf  pan;  bake  in  oven  at  325°F.  (low 
temperature)  about  1  hour  and  20 
minutes.  Frost  with  package  of  pre- 
pared fudge  mix.    Makes   1  loaf  cake. 


Irene  Beasley 

(Continued  from  page  33) 

a  point  of  dining  together  once  a  week, 
going  over  the  budget  and  setting  up 
any  plans  they  can  for  entertaining 
together.  Anna  runs  the  house  to  per- 
fection and  is  frequently  counselor  as 
well  as  home-maker. 

"Stand  up  and  tell  them  who  you 
are!"  she  admonishes. 

Irene  was  born  in  Whitehaven,  Ten- 
nessee. The  family  moved  to  Amarillo, 
Texas,  when  she  was  six.  Her  vaca- 
tions were  spent  with  her  grandmother 
in  Plum  Point,  Mississippi,  and  her 
earliest  memories  are  of  practising  the 
piano  by  the  side  of  that  grandmother 
in  her  big  shadowy  parlor.  As  far  back 
as  she  can  remember,  music  was  her 
great  interest,  and  after  graduation 
from  Sweet  Briar  College  in  Virginia 
she  wanted  to  teach  it.  Her  first  job 
was  a  year  of  mentoring  seven  grades 
in  all  subjects  in  a  country  school.  Then 
she  won  a  post  in  the  Memphis  Junior 
High  School  as  instructor  in  music, 
mathematics  and  business  management 
— subjects  she  was  well  qualified  to 
teach,  as  later  events  have  shown. 

Research  into  hill-billy  melodies 
brought  her  to  the  attention  of  Victor, 
for  whom  she  has  made  many  re- 
cordings. They  brought  her  to  New 
York  and  radio  engagements  followed. 

Grand  Slam,  the  first  radio  show  to 
give  the  listener  an  equal  chance  with 
the  studio  contestant,  started  in  her  sis- 
ter's home  in  Connecticut  as  a  piece  of 
fairly  idle  conversation. 

"As  a  housewife  and  mother,  you  are 
a  pretty  good  critic  of  daytime  shows," 
said  Irene.  "What  do  you  think  is 
lacking?" 

"Nothing  is  lacking,"  said  her  sister, 
"but  I  do  wish  someone  would  give 
listeners  like  me  a  chance  to  win 
prizes." 

Irene  had  no  answer  for  that.  But  a 
few  days  later  when  an  agency  called 
and  said,  "Have  you  any  ideas  for  a 
new  show?"  Irene  paused  for  only  a 
minute  before  she  said,  "I  think  maybe 
I  have  a  good  one." 

"Can  you  come  over  right  now  and 
tell  us  about  it?"  said  the  agency.  "We 
need  one  right  now." 

Irene  outlined  what  she  had  decided 
to  call  "Musical  Bazaar"  on  the  way 
over.     The  agency  liked  it  enormously. 

"Can  you  put  the  idea  on  paper  so 
that  we  can  discuss  it  with  the  spon- 
sor?" they  said. 

Irene  wrote  "Musical  Bazaar"  firmly 
at  the  top  of  the  paper  and  went  on  to 
outline  how  five  questions,  submitted 
by  listeners  all  over  the  country,  were 
to  be  asked  of  a  contestant  in  the  studio. 
For  each  question  correcly  answered, 
a  prize  went  to  the  contestant  in  the 
studio.  For  each  question  missed,  a 
prize  was  to  be  mailed  to  the  listener. 

"And  if  all  questions  are  answered  or 
missed,  the  winner  gets  a  grand  slam  of 
five.  .  .  ." 

Irene's  pen  stopped. 

"Grand  Slam!"  she  thought.  "Best 
show  title  I  ever  heard!"  And  Grand 
Slam  the  show  has  been  ever  since. 

Everything  about  the  show  fell  into 
happy  order  from  the  start,  but  not 
without  an  heroic  amount  of  work  after 
she  had  assembled  her  staff. 

Actually,  the  first  step  had  been 
taken  years  before  when  Irene  found 
Bob  Downey.  She  had  gone  with  a 
friend  to  Number  One  Fifth  Avenue 
to  hear  a  singer,  but  as  soon  as  the 
accompanist  started  to  play  she  knew 
that  she  had  found  her  pianist  if  he 


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Shasta-washed  hair  "takes"  a  better  permanent.  Even  a  fresh 
new  wave  looks  softer  and  more  natural  the  very  first  day. 
Soaping  your  hair  with  the  most  expensive  creams  or 
liquids  won't  give  you  Shasta's  perfect  results ! 

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Your  pin-curls  comb  out  softer — your  hair  stays 
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You'll  see  that  Shasta  is  made  especially 
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Shasta  leaves  your  hair  more  lustrous,  easier  to  manage! 

Notice  how  much  more  lustrous  and  manageable  Shasta 
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I 

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If  YOU  want  to  enjoy  that 

SLIM    ,— 
TEEN  size  ; 

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Doe*  a  bulging  tummy  make 
you  look  years  older  than  you 
really  are?  Are  ordinary  girdles 
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Why  look  droopy  and  beyond 
your  years  because  your  mid- 
section bulges  and  your  clothes 
don't  fit  right?  Read  below 
why  SLIM- MODE  brings  you 
vital  control  where  you  need 
it  most  .  .  .  how  it  helps  to 
"harmonize"  your  figure  to 
more  stylish  lines  .  .  .  why  it's 
so  comfortable  to  wear.  And 
remember,  you  can  have  a 
SLIM-MODE  sent  to  you  to 
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SLIM-MODE  is  made  of 
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stoop,  after  meals,  etc. 


HEALTH  SUPPORTER 
GIRDLE 


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You  can  wear  SLIM-MODE  all  day  long.  Will  not  bind 
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s-t-r-e-t-n-h  cloth  plus  the  front- laced  panel  brings  you 
perfect  personalized  lit.  The  design  of  SLIM-MODE  is 
based  on  scientific  facts  of  healthful  figure  control.  Made 
by  experts  of  quality  materials.  Comes  with  detachable 
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(Remove  garters  when  not  wearing  stockings.)  Color: 
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Sizes.  Sent  on  Free  Trial.  Give  meas- 
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you  get  a  pair  of  1'lastic  laces  that 
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SEND   NO  MONEY 

YOU  TRY  IT 

BEFORE  YOU  BUY  IT! 


RONNIE  SALES.   Inc.,  Dept.   5210A 
487  Broadway,  New  York  13,  N.  Y. 

ii       '  FREE  TRIAL  a  SLIM-MODE. 

to  i lu.i 1 1  (3.98  (plus  postage)    (sizes  38 

is  i   with  the  understanding   that  this 

payment    Is  only  my  evidence  of  good   faith  and   Is 

in. i  ii.  ii ildercd  a  final  purchase  unless  i  decide 

in    in  in  days  i  h  in  either  return 
sum  MODE  "i  hi"  mid  you  uill  return  my  money, 

n. -    ini'iil    villi    In-    ii    lull    ami   final 

My  waist  measure  is Hips  are 

My  height  is 





Zol  Sliile 

i     Save   Money.   We  pay  postage   if  you  enclose  pay- 
ment now.  Same  FREE  TRIAL  and  refund  privilege. 
No  Canadian  or  Foreign  C.  O.  D't 


was  available.     His  style  was  perfect. 

"What  a  musician  .  .  .  he's  out  of 
this  world!"  she  said,  and  went  back 
four  times  to  hear  him  just  for  her  own 
pleasure  before  talking  business. 

Dwight  Weist,  who  announces  Grand 
Slam,  also  announces  We  the  People, 
Inner  Sanctum,  Big  Town,  and  Pathe 
Newsreels.  He  was  an  equally  happy 
addition,  as  was  Abe  Goldman,  the 
organist.  All  three  men  are  married, 
all  are  congenial  and  so  are  their  wives, 
so  Irene's  group  is  close-knit  socially 
as  well  as  professionally. 

They  worked,  experimented,  re- 
hearsed and  slaved  like  Trojans  on  the 
new  program  all  through  the  blistering 
weeks  of  September,  1946.  Then  Irene 
sent  everybody  away  for  a  week's  va- 
cation. 

"We've  done  all  we  can,"  she  said. 
"Let's  have  a  rest  and  start  fresh." 

Since  the  material  for  Grand  Slam 
scripts  must  come  from  the  listeners, 
Irene's  only  worry  was  that  the  listener 
response  would  not  be  sufficient  to  sup- 
ply her  with  varied,  lively  and  amusing 
scripts.  But  that  worry  vanished  in 
the  first  week  the  program  was  aired 
when  an  enthusiastic  response  from  lis- 
teners all  over  the  country  proved  that 
Irene  had  been  correct  in  thinking  that 
the  people  at  home  wanted  to  par- 
ticipate in  radio  games. 

The  response  grew  and  grew  and 
Grand  Slam  became  one  of  the  favorite 
shows  on  the  air.  In  its  first  year  it 
managed  to  secure  a  place  in  the  dis- 
tinguished ranks  of  the  top  ten  in  day- 
time radio  while  its  companion  shows 
had  careers  of  eight  to  ten  or  more 
years  on  the  air. 

The  handling  of  the  mail  is  interest- 
ing in  itself.  It  is  picked  up  from  a 
post-office  box  by  a  commercial  mail- 
handling  firm.  They  sort  it  according 
to  date  of  postmark.  This  is  because 
in  case  of  duplicate  entries,  the  one 
carrying  the  earlier  date  is  the  winner. 
This  company  does  the  heavy  labor  of 
slitting  the  envelopes  and  delivers  them 
otherwise  untouched  to  Irene's  office 
where  the  staff  goes  to  work,  playing 
Grand  Slam  themselves  as  they  go 
along.  The  judge  who  turns  up  the 
greatest  number  of  winning  entries  in 
a  week  gets  a  cash  prize. 

Ideas  are  sorted  according  to  subject, 
and  a  good  original  idea  is  kept  in  the 
permanent  file  until  the  right  oppor- 
tunity to  use  it  comes  along.  Irene 
has  one  of  next  Easter's  ideas  chosen 
already  from  among  suggestions  that 
came  in  too  late  last  year. 

The  mail  is  full  of  surprises. 

One   letter   was   right   to   the  point: 


"Dear  Mr.  Slam — please  give  me  any- 
thing you  have  to  give  away,  yours 
truly." 

Another  letter  of  fulsome  praise  of 
Irene,  her  voice  and  her  personality 
ended  somewhat  dismayingly,  "Long 
may  your  Slam-Bank  Wave!" 

Another  letter  contained  a  check  for 
$14,000!  It  had  been  put  into  the  wrong 
envelope  by  mistake,  and  no  doubt  a 
Grand  Slam  entry  was  puzzling  a  bank 
in  Colorado. 

Bills  of  lading  for  livestock,  love 
letters  and  once  a  note,  explaining  why 
Johnny  had  not  been  at  school  on  Tues- 
day have  turned  up,  but  this  is  noth- 
ing to  the  surprises  that  have  turned 
up  on  the  show  itself. 

Sometimes  the  apparently  most  self- 
possessed  contestants  get  mike  fright 
the  minute  they  are  on  the  air  and  are 
unable  to  make  a  sound.  Irene  is  skill- 
ful about  getting  them  past  this  mo- 
ment, but  once  she  could  not  break 
through.  The  contestant  mumbled  and 
stuttered  answers  that  were  barely  in- 
telligible. 

After  the  show  she  came  up  apolo- 
getically. 

"Know  what's  the  matter  with  me?" 
she  said.     "Left  my  teeth  at  home!" 

A  man  broke  up  Irene  and  the  audi- 
ence coast  to  coast,  too,  with  the  way 
he  finished  a  poem.  It  was  on  a 
Father's  Day  show,  and  Irene  had 
chosen  a  sentimental  rhyme  called 
"Lines  to  an  Absent  Husband"  for  one 
of  the  features.  It  went  on  about  "no 
shirts  behind  the  door,  no  ashes  on  the 
floor,  no  ring  around  the  tub"  and 
ended, 

"No  matter  if  it's  spic  and  span 
Home's  no  fun  without  a  man." 

Irene  read  it  with  a  lot  of  fine  fervid 
feeling  right  up  to  the  last  word — the 
easy  obvious  rhyming  "man"  that  the 
contestant  should  have  added.  But  he 
had  his  own  answer. 

"Wonder  Bread!"  he  cried  triumph- 
antly. 

Even  more  of  a  surprise  was  the  an- 
swer of  a  little  old  lady  who  wanted 
to  play  games  according  to  her  own 
design.  The  problem  was  to  supply  last 
words  of  lines  from  songs.  Irene  ex- 
plained it  carefully. 

"Like  the  beat,  beat,  beat  of  the — 
what?" 

"Give  me  the  music — I'll  tell  you  the 
title,"  said  the  contestant  firmly. 

"But  this  is  different,"  Irene  ex- 
plained. "This  time  you  fill  in  the  last 
word.  Try  this:  Oh,  what  a  beautiful 
what?" 

"Give  me  the  music — I'll  tell  you  the 
title,"  said  the  contestant  in  the  tone  of 


WOMAN'S  FIRST  RIGHT  .  .  . 

THE  RIGHT  TO  HAPPINESS 


it 


it 


Listen  to  Carolyn  Cramer's  courageous  struggle  for 
security  and  peace  of  mind  on  "The  Right  To  Happi- 
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life. 

TUNE*  IN  every  afternoon  Monday  to  Friday  (3:45 
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one  arguing  with  an  unreasonable  child. 

"Try  this,  then,"  said  Irene,  and  in 
her  anxiety  to  get  the  idea  across  to 
the  little  old  lady  she  tilted  the  micro- 
phone a  little  closer,  smiling  encourag- 
ingly, "What  is  this  thing  called — ?" 

"A  mike — you  know  as  well  as  I  do," 
said  the  little  old  lady.  "Give  me  the 
music — I'll  tell  you  the  title." 

The  most  disconcerting  thing  that 
ever  happened  in  the  studio,  however, 
was  when  a  particularly  attractive 
woman  drew  a  winning  number  and, 
when  Irene  asked  her  name,  said,  "This 
will  be  a  bigger  surprise  to  you  than 

you  realize.  I  am  Mrs.  "  and  she 

gave  the  name  of  a  man  to  whom  Irene 
had  once  been  engaged. 

"I  drew  a  complete  blank  for  a  mo- 
ment," said  Irene.  "When  I  came  to  I 
heard  myself  saying  to  the  audience. 
'For  goodness  sake!  She  married  the 
man  I  was  in  love  with!'  " 

Oddly,  time  and  again  it  has  beon 
discovered  that  winners  have  received 
their  prizes  at  curiously  appropriate 
times.  One  man  wrote  that  a  grand 
slam  of  gifts  had  arrived  on  his  wed- 
ding anniversary  when  he  was  out  of 
a  job  and  had  not  been  able  to  buy  his 
wife  a  remembrance.  A  widow  wrote 
that  her  winnings  of  a  vacuum  cleaner 
and  a  set  of  club  aluminum  pans  had 
arrived  the  day  before  her  daughter's 
wedding,  augmenting  most  happily  the 
very  small  gifts  she  had  been  able  to 
afford.  And  on  many  more  occasions 
than  chance  would  seem  to  justify 
visitors  win  at  Irene's  show  and  then  go 
on  to  win  at  every  other  show  they 
visit.  They  come  back  and  tell  her, 
claiming  that  Grand  Slam  is  blessed 
with  a  little  extra  touch  of  luck. 

Irene  agrees — but  only  to  a  point. 
Has  she  won  a  single  grand  slam  at 
bridge  since  the  show  started?  Not  she 
— no  time  to  play! 

HERE'S  the  Swiss  steak  recipe  that's 
one  of  Anna's  delectable  specialties: 

SWISS  STEAK 
Trim  the  edges  of  W2  lb.  round  steak. 
Pound  into  both  sides  of  the  steak  as 
much  flour  as  it  will  hold,  using  a 
mallet  or  the  side  of  a  plate.  1  tsp.  salt 
and  Vs  tsp.  of  pepper  should  be  com- 
bined with  the  flour. 
Heat  in  a  heavy  skillet  a  Vi  cup  of  bacon 
fat  combined  with  V2  cup  of  chopped 
onion.  Brown  the  beef  in  the  fat 
quickly.  Add  1%  cups  of  canned  to- 
matoes, 1  stalk  of  celery,  diced,  1  peeled 
clove  of  garlic,  diced;  cover  tightly  and 
bake  in  a  slow  oven  of  275°  for  2-2V2 
hours  or  until  tender.  Uncover  for  last 
half  hour  to  thicken  sauce.  Thicken 
gravy  with  flour  if  necessary.  Remove 
steak  to  hot  platter  and  serve  with 
sauce  over  and  around  it.     Serves  4. 


Hi  ,'JBjjl 


Irene's     Grand      Slam     studio      audience 
draws  from  all  age  groups. 


where  does  ie  go  from  Tiere  ? 

First  Step?  Not  quite.  For  earliest  spoon-feedings 
baby  sits  in  your  lap.  Often,  the  first  foods  after 
milk  are  good-tasting  Gerber's  Cereals.  Flavor  and 
texture  favorites  with  thousands  of  tiny  tots  — 
and  toddlers. 

Next  Step!  Doctors  approve  early  introduction 
of  Gerber's  Strained  Vegetables,  Fruits, 
Meat -combinations,  Meats  and  Desserts. 
All  prepared  from  the  most  carefully  selected 
ingredients.  Tempting,  nutritious  Gerber's  for 
well- varied  menus  — are  all  ready  to  serve! 

Then— baby  gradually  changes  to 

Gerber's  Junior  Foods.  Same  high  quality! 
Same  size  container— same  low  price!  That 
increases  the  variety  of  foods  you  can  serve— 
without  increasing  grocery  bills! 

"New/   Gerber's  Meats 


Beef,  Veal,  Liver.  All-meat! 
All  luscious!  Strained  and 
Junior  — owe  price! 


erber's 

BABY    FOODS 

FREMONT.  MICH  OAKLAND.  CAL 


3   Cereals        *        20   Strained    Foods        •        15    Junior    Foods 
3  Strained  Meats        *        3   Junior  Meats 


87 


young  wives; 

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this  higher  type 


Daintier.. 

Less 

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it's  not  always  possible  to  contact 
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88 


Name 

Address. 
City 


_Siate_ 


Memo  To  County  Limerick 

(Continued  from  page  39) 


the  thought,  I  rushed  back  to  the  cor- 
ner drug  store.  I  bought  Dympna  a 
grand  present  at  once — a  Lucite  brush 
and  comb  set.  But  here  is  what  was 
funny:  just  as  the  present  was  being 
wrapped,  I  caught  sight  of  a  familiar 
face — my  wife's!  She  too  was  Christ- 
mas shopping  in  this  drug  store — buy- 
ing my  present.  I  peeked  and  saw  that 
it  was  one  of  those  curious  pens  that 
write  under  water.  Then  I  quickly 
sneaked  out  without  her  seeing  me, 
and  I  never  admitted  to  her  that  I'd 
seen  my  present  before  I  should. 

But  you  can  see  by  this  story  how 
confused  a  couple  of  young  Irish  peo- 
ple can  be  in  your  country — when 
we're  driven  to  shopping  in  the  near- 
est pharmacy  instead  of  your  beautiful 
big  stores! 

Right  here,  though,  I  would  like  to 
stop  and  tell  you  something.  Just  be- 
cause I  am  bewildered  by  your  stores 
and  high  buildings  doesn't  mean  that 
I'm  an  uncivilized  sort  of  fellow  who'd 
never  known  anything  before.  I've  dis- 
covered that  most  Americans  think  a 
pig  goes  with  every  kitchen  in  Ireland. 
This  isn't  so.  We  have  a  few  modern 
conveniences  in  Ireland  too,  you  know. 
And  we  also  have  schools  that  really 
educate  you.    Oh,  we  get  along! 

Take  my  case.  I  was  born  twenty- 
six  years  ago  in  a  big  ten-room  house 
— not  the  mud  hutch  you  people  seem 
to  expect! — in  the  village  of  Rathkeale, 
County  Limerick,  in  Southern  Ireland. 
Supposedly,  this  house  was  once  an 
old  inn  where  Sir  Walter  Raleigh 
stayed  the  night.  But  whatever  its 
history,  my  father  bought  it  many 
years  ago,  and  there  lived  my  father, 
my  mother,  and  their  six  children,  of 
whom  I  was  the  youngest. 

At  home,  my  three  sisters  Alice,  Sis- 
sie,  and  Dimple  did  all  the  housework 
— making  beds,  sweeping,  and  dish- 
washing. We  boys,  John  James,  Frank 
and  I  looked  after  the  fourteen  horses, 
my  father's  pride!  Father  ran  a  stud 
farm — breeding  horses,  you  under- 
stand— so  the  facts  of  life  never  had  to 
be  explained  to  any  of  us!  Let  me  add 
with  pride  that  one  of  our  beautiful 
horses,  Pollyphayn,  won  first  prize  at 
the  Dublin  Horse  Show. 

WE  used  to  get  up  at  7: 30  in  the  morn- 
ing, exercise  the  horses  on  a  lead 
in  the  ring,  groom  and  feed  them.  Then 
we'd  walk  the  half-mile  to  the  Rath- 
keale school.  At  lunch-time,  we'd  nip 
the  bicycles  ridden  to  school  by  the 
country  lads,  and  we'd  ride  home  for 
lunch  and  back  again. 

I  must  say  I  never  cared  for  study- 
ing, though  I  did  manage  to  learn 
Latin,  French,  and  English  composi- 
tion— does  this  surprise  you,  in  an 
Irish  school?  And  don't  think  the 
Rathkeale  school  was  small,  either; 
it  had  1,000  pupils.  What  I  liked  a  lot 
more  than  my  studies  was  playing 
"hurling,"  which  is  like  American  ice 
hockey  only  without  the  ice.  But  what 
I  really  liked  best  were  the  evenings — 
when  all  the  Lynch  family  sang  and 
acted  around  the  house  like  a  troupe 
of  opera  stars! 

This  was  not  at  all  unusual  in  Ire- 
land. There  every  village  has  its  local 
concerts  and  drama  clubs.  In  our  vil- 
lage, the  Lynches  were  heavily  dra- 
matic— in  one  play,  "Private  Secretary," 
I  remember  that  four  of  us  Lynches, 
acted  parts.  And  at  one  time  five  of 
us  sang  together  in  the  church  choir — 


my  big  moment  was  when  I  sang  the 
solo  of  "Silent  Night."  And  when  we 
weren't  singing  and  acting  in  public, 
we  were  doing  it  just  for  fun  around 
the  house  of  an  evening.  Oh,  we  had 
jolly  times  under  the  Lynch  roof! 

But  that  is  just  what  I  might  still 
be  doing — if  it  hadn't  been  for  your 
movie  actor  Robert  Taylor! 

Yes,  one  of  his  movies  was  playing 
in  Limerick  one  night.  I  had  gone 
there — a  green  lad  of  twenty  who  had 
never  sung  outside  my  own  village 
until  then — to  sing  in  the  stage  variety 
show  during  the  movie  intermission. 
Little  did  I  know  it,  but  sitting  in  the 
audence  that  night  were  the  O'Mara 
brothers,  Joseph  and  Alphonse.  They 
were  the  wealthy  bacon  and  ham  pack- 
ers of  Ireland,  and  they  had  come  that 
night  to  see  the  Robert  Taylor  movie. 
But  they  saw  me  at  the  same  time! 
And  fortunately  for  me,  I  seemed  to 
them  somewhat  like  their  uncle,  the 
great  Irish  tenor  Joseph  O'Mara. 

Afterwards  they  came  backstage  to 
see  me.  I'll  never  forget  our  conversa- 
tion— it  went  something  like  this: 

HAVE  you  ever  studied  singing,  my 
lad?"  they  asked. 

"No,  sirs,"  said  I.  "In  fact,  this  is 
the  first  time  I  have  ever  sung  out- 
side my  own  village  of  Rathkeale." 

They  conferred  a  minute,  and  then 
they  asked,  "Would  you  like  to  go  to 
Dublin  to  seriously  study  voice?  We 
stand  ready  to  pay  for  your  lessons  and 
living  expenses  if  you  say  yes." 

"Yes,"  was  what  I  answered  im- 
mediately, with  my  head  in  a  whirl — 
and  you  may  possibly  imagine  the  ex- 
citement at  home  when  I  told  the  many 
Lynches  that  I  was  off  to  the  great  city 
of  Dublin  to  start  singing  lessons! 

I  was  soon  there,  and  put  to  work 
learning  Italian  and  brushing  up  on 
my  French  as  well  as  taking  voice  les- 
sons. My  singing  teacher  was  Dr. 
Vincent  O'Brien,  who  had  been  John 
McCormack's  teacher.  After  a  year's 
study,  I  gave  my  first  public  recital  in 
Dublin  and  then,  wanting  a  vacation, 
I  went  to  the  health  resort  of  Lisdoon- 
varna — and  ran  right  into  my  future 
wife! 

That  happened  like  this.  My  brother 
John  James  had  married  a  girl  from 
Lisdoonvarna;  and  there  he  had  set- 
tled to  manage  the  sulfa  wells — it  is  a 
well-known  spa  in  Ireland.  So  I  went 
to  visit  them.  There  I  found  that  every 
hotel  has  a  dance  every  night  (in  Lis- 
doonvarna, every  house  that  takes  pay- 
ing guests  is  called  a  hotel) ,  and  at  my 
first  dance,  my  first  night,  I  saw  the 
most  beautiful  girl  I  had  ever  seen  in 
my  life.  She  was  nineteen,  brown- 
haired,  and  her  eyes  were  as  dark  as 
her  hair.  Fortunately  I  knew  her  es- 
cort. I  rushed  up  to  him,  shook  his 
hand  warmly,  and  naturally  he  had  to 
say,  "Miss  Dympna  Daly,  this  is  Mr. 
Christopher  Lynch." 

Those  were  his  last  words  to  her — 
he  never  saw  her  again!  I  swept  her 
away  in  the  dance,  and  during  my  visit 
at  Lisdoonvarna  I  saw  nobody  else. 
Together  we  danced  the  fox-trots  and 
the  square  dances,  and  we  got  to  know 
each  other.  I  learned  that  she  was 
there  because  she  too  had  a  relative 
engaged  in  the  business  there — her 
aunt  owned  many  hotels  at  the  resort. 
I  also  learned  that  she  was  as  bright  as 
she  was  beautiful — she  was  studying 
for  a  degree  of  philosophy  at  the  Uni- 


versity  of  Dublin.  That  meant,  of 
course,  that  when  we  both  returned  to 
Dublin,  we  could  continue  seeing  each 
other! 

That  we  certainly  did,  for  the  next 
two  years.  We  went  to  many  movies 
together,  to  the  dog  races,  and  in  the 
summer  we  went  bathing  at  seaside 
places..  On  October  24,  1945,  we  were 
married  at  the  University  Church  in 
Dublin.  I  had  my  brother  John  James 
as  best  man,  and  for  an  usher  my  best 
pal  Jack  Healy;  and  Dympna  had  her 
three  cousins  as  bridesmaids.  Before 
the  ceremony  we  had  a  press  reception 
— for  by  this  time  I  was  a  professional 
singer,  who  had  made  several  concert- 
tours  of  Ireland — and  after  the  cere- 
mony we  had  a  reception  for  Dympna's 
relatives!  Anyway,  that's  how  it 
seemed — dozens  of  her  relatives  col- 
lected at  the  Chelbourne  Hotel.  After- 
wards we  went  to  Graystone's  for  our 
honeymoon,  a  seaside  resort  near  Dub- 
lin. You  can  see  why  I  think  I'm  the 
luckiest  Irishman  who  never  kissed 
the  Blarney  Stone! 

But  now  I  must  go  back  a  year  to  tell 
you  of  yet  another  almighty  piece  of 
luck. 

It  was  in  1944  to  be  exact.  After  much 
studying  and  concert-giving,  one  eve- 
ning I  gave  a  sherry  party  for  the  press 
in  Dublin.  At  it  I  was  asked  to  sing; 
and  just  before  I  began,  I  saw  a  man  of 
about  sixty  years  enter  the  room.  He 
had  one  of  the  nqblest  faces  I  had 
ever  seen,  and  a  dark  thatch  of  hair 
that  was  gray  at  the  temples.  Of 
course  I  knew  him  at  once  from  pic- 
tures of  him  I  had  seen — this  was  Ire- 
land's greatest  singer,  John  McCormack. 

Right  after  he  came  in  I  sang  Handel's 
"Art  Thou  Troubled."  Afterwards,  to 
my  astonishment,  Mr.  McCormack  un- 
expectedly made  a  speech,  saying  that 
I  would  be  the  tenor  most  likely  to 
succeed  him.  You  can  imagine  my  over- 
whelming joy  at  such  praise — and  then 
Mr.  McCormack  added  to  it  by  in- 
viting me  to  his  house  to  dinner  the 
following  week.  At  that  dinner,  we 
talked  nothing  but  music,  and  he  told 
me  many  of  his  experiences.  Later  that 
evening  he  made  me  an  offer  I  shall 
never  forget — he  offered  to  coach  me  in 
singing.  I  thus  became  the  only  pupil 
John  McCormack  ever  had.  And  it 
was  due  to  this  directly  that  I  came  to 
America. 

For  one  day,  after  I  had  been  study- 
ing with  Mr.  McCormack  for  a  year 
and  a  half,  Time  Magazine  printed  a 
photograph  of  the  two  of  us  together. 
Mr.  Arthur  Judson,  president  of  Colum- 
bia Concerts,  saw  that  picture.  He 
immediately  cabled  Mr.  McCormack 
for  information  about  me — and  sud- 
denly I  found  myself  contracted  by 
your  American  Columbia  Concerts  and 
by  the  Voice  of  Firestone  Hour.  Equal- 
ly suddenly  I  was  lifted  from  the  quiet 
village  of  Lahinch  in  County  Clare 
(where  we  were  then  living)  to  the 
enormous  skyscrapers  of  New  York 
City.  I  was  literally  lifted,  too — 
Dympna,  our  baby  son  Brian  and  I  flew 
to  New  York.  The  sudden  transition 
was,  as  I  said  before,  almost  too  much 
for   us! 

We  were  rushed  from  the  airport  to 
a  New  York  hotel.  The  minute  we  got 
to  our  three-room  suite,  the  telephone 
rang  and  a  voice  said,  "This  is  your 
American  cousin  Joe  Lynch."  As  I  have 
no  relatives  in  America,  this  surprised 
me.  I  told  him  we  weren't  related — 
but  soon  the  telephone  rang  again,  and 
a  girl's  voice  told  me  she  was  my  Amer- 
ican cousin  Susan  Lynch.  I  would  say 
that     about     one    hundred     and     fifty 


Why,  the  styles  are  so  definitely  new!  So  flattering. ..and  beautifully  made  of 

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■ 

WOHL   SHOE    COMPANY  •   SAINT   LOUIS,   MISSOURI 


89 


LITTLE   LULU 


"Td  rather  watch  KLEENEX*  jump  up!" 

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just  one  double  tissue— up  pops  another!  Compare  tissues,  com- 
pare boxes— you'll  see  why  Kleenex  is  America's  favorite  tissue. 


C  Internationa]  Cellucotton  Products  Co. 


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DO    YOU    WANT 

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SELL  THESE  POPULAR  PATRIOI 

SEND   US   NO  MONEY*!  N  ADVANCE 

Just  write  and  ask  us  to  send  you  40  of  these  beautiful 
glittering  mottoes  which  the  public  likes  so  well.  Sell  them 
easily  and  quickly  to  your  friends  and  neighbors  for  only 
35c  each.  At  the  end  of  14  days  send  back,  if  you  wish, 
all  mottoes  you  have  not  sold,  and  send  us  only  25c  for 
each  you  have  sold.  You  keep  all  the  rest  of  the  money 

IF  YOU  SELL  25,  YOU  KEEP  $2.50 

IF  YOU  SELL  30,  YOU  KEEP  $3.00 

IF  YOU  SELL  ALL  40  YOU  KEEP  $4.00 

REMEMBER:  No  money  is  needed  in  advance  You  loke  no  ri»V». 
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90 


Lynches  have  called  me  since  then,  all 
claiming  to  be  a  relative; — when  none 
are! 

Now  that  we  have  a  house  in  Amer- 
ica our  lives  have  fallen  into  a  pattern. 
Dympna  and  I  are  up  about  nine  every 
morning.  I  take  a  shower — singing  my 
pet  shower  song  "The  Old  Turf  Fire" 
— and  then  eat  the  fine  breakfast  of 
bacon  and  eggs  that  Dympna  prepares. 
After  that  I  rehearse,  usually  drink- 
ing Cokes  and  eating  apples  as  I  sing, 
and  often  picking  up  the  babies  to  sing 
into  their  faces  while  they  laugh  at  me. 
After  lunch  I  relax  for  awhile,  and 
then  usually  go  into  New  York  to  study 
voice  with  my  teacher  there,  who  is  the 
great  old  baritone  Guiseppe  de  Luca. 
When  dinner  is  over — which  is  usually 
steak  and  apple  pie,  or  corned  beef 
and  cabbage — I  practice  again.  I  have 
heard  that  automobiles  run  better  at 
night.  This  is  probably  true — and  cer- 
tainly it  is  true  that  voices  sing  better 
at  night. 

Before  a  concert,  I  never  eat  dinner. 
Neither  do  I  take  throat  lozenges.  I 
simply  sit  about  quietly,  resting  my 
voice.  Dympna  usually  goes  with  me 
to  every  radio  broadcast,  which  I  give 
before  an  audience  of  1,400  people.  I 
generally  sing  clinging  to  the  music 
rack  in  what  must  look  like  a  very 
awkward  way — this  is  because  I  never 
sang  into  a  microphone  until  I  came  to 
America,  and  I'm  still  afraid  I  might 
miss  a  note!  After  the  broadcasts, 
Dympna  and  I  usually  eat  dinner  in 
the  city  at  O'Sullivan's  Restaurant. 

We  lead  very  quiet  lives,  I  suppose. 
I  don't  drink  or  smoke,  you  see,  and  I 
can't  imagine  going  to  a  night  club  ex- 
cept for  once — then  we  went  to  hear 
Milton  Berle's  comic  routine. 

I  play  golf  whenever  I  can — although 
we  have  a  different  method  of  scoring 
in  Ireland  than  you  have — and  I  play 
tennis  occasionally,  and  badminton. 
Also  I  spend  hours  in  the  garden,  work- 
ing with  the  plants.  In  the  Spring,  too, 
you  can  count  on  my  sitting  behind  a 
fishing  pole  working  on  some  trout. 

And  we  Lynches  have  made  a  num- 
ber of  American  plans.  Two  of  them 
are  going  to  happen  next  year:  we  will 
buy  an  automobile,  and  we  will  take 
out  our  American  citizenship  papers. 
Oh,  yes — even  if  we've  transported  Ire- 
land over  to  the  U.S.,  we're  really  be- 
coming quite,  quite  American! 


IROUGH  YOUR 

COMMUNITY  CHEST 


Coast  to  Coast 

(.Continued  from  page  19) 


Susan  Douglas  is  Jean  Baker,  next- 
door-neighbor  of  Backstage  Wife. 


sets,  is  back  on  the  Mutual  network 
with  Tom  Collins  and  Irene  Tedrow  in 
the  leading  roles. 

*  *         * 

Songstress  Julie  Conway,  now  fea- 
tured on  the  Musicomedy  stanza,  has 
probably  done  more  singing  in  the  past 
ten  years  than  anyone  else  in  the  busi- 
ness. She's  sung  at  the  Pump  Room  in 
Chicago,  with  Kay  Kyser  on  the  air,  in 
the  movies  and  in  theaters  from  coast 
to  coast.  But  those  stints  do  not  com- 
prise the  greater  part  of  her  singing 
activity.  Miss  Conway  is  perhaps  the 
leading  interpreter  of  the  singing  com- 
mercial. For  example,  in  the  past  few 
years  she  has  been  running  from  one 
New  York  studio  to  another,  five  days 
a  week,  from  10:30  A.M.  until  11:30 
P.M.,  employing  her  capable  lungs  on 
"That  new,  new,  NEW  Oxydol 
Sparkle!"  Several  afternoons  a  week 
her  schedule  is  so  tight  she  has  to 
charter  a  cab  and  have  elevators  held 
for  her  so  she'll  make  her  programs  on 
time.  She's  never  been  late,  but  she's 
had  a  few  close  calls.  Not  satisfied 
with  all  this  and  being  married  to  an- 
nouncer, Bob  Sherry,  and  mothering  a 
three-year-old  daughter,  Miss  Conway 
is  eager  to  become  an  actress,  too.  She 
is  studying  theater  technique  with  the 
idea  of  some  day  combining  musical 
comedy  and  radio  work. 

*  *         * 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  FROM  ALL 
OVER  .  .  .  Wendell  Niles  and  Bob 
Hope's  brother,  Jack,  have  formed 
Telepix  Productions,  and  will  work  al- 
most exclusively  in  16  mm.  film  .  .  . 
Veteran  Hollywood  picture  producers 
John  Ford  and  Merian  Cooper  have 
also  formed  a  new  television  producing 
firm  .  .  .  Myrna  Loy  may  be  the  first 
star  to  appear  in  a  52  week  day  drama 
on  television  .  .  .  Mutual's  Sherlock 
Holmes  series  has  been  renewed  for 
next  season  .  .  .  It's  rumored  that  Fred 
Allen  is  dickering  to  get  Arnold  Stang 
(Henry  Morgan's  hilarious  Gerard)  for 
his  Allen's  Alley  line-up  .  .  .  Lum  'n 
Abner  may  do  a  recording  of  their 
famous  Christmas  story,  which,  if  done, 
will  be  ready  for  sale  this  fall  .  . '.  Inner 
Sanctum  latest  radio  show  to  hit  the 
pix.  Mary  Beth  Hughes  and  Charles 
Russell  co-starring  in  first  one  .  .  .  Ed- 
die Cantor  has  signed  another  kid — 
Toni  Harper,  nine-year-old  singer. 


Pont  hide  from  four  daughter 


But  make  sure  your  own 
knowledge  is  just  as  scien- 
tific, up-to-date  as  it  can  be ! 


In  these  modern  times  no  girl  or  woman 
should  have  to  be  told  how  important 
vaginal  douching  often  is.  But  this,  she 
should  learn  and  learn  immediately. 
No  other  type  liquid  antiseptic-germi- 
cide tested  for  this  use  is  so  powerful 
yet  so  safe  to  tissues  as  modern  zoxite. 
Scientists  have  proved  this  beyond  doubt. 

Warns  against 
weak  or  dangerous  products 

It  is  indeed  an  unfortunate  woman  who, 
from  ignorant  advice  of  friends,  still 
uses  such  'kitchen  makeshifts'  as  vine- 
gar, salt  or  soda  in  the  douche.  These 
are  NOT  germicides  in  the  douche.  They 
never  can  give  the  great  germicidal  and 
deodorizing  action  of  zoxite.  If  only 
you'd  realize  now  how  important  it  is 
to  use  a  germicide  intended  for  vaginal 
douching — one  powerfully  germicidal 
that  deodorizes  yet  one  safe  to  tissues. 
So  benefit  by  zoxite  now! 


Zom'te 


/ 


FOR   NEWER 


emimne 


W 


lene 


zoxite  positively  contains  no  phenol, 
no  mercury — no  harsh  acids — over- 
strong  solutions  of  which  may  damage 
tissues  and  in  time  even  impair  func- 
tional activity  of  the  mucous  glands. 
zoxite  is  a  modern  miracle!  You  can 
use  it  as  directed  as  often  as  needed  with- 
out the  slightest  risk  of  injury.  It's  posi- 
tively non-poisonous,  non-irritating. 

Developed  by  a  world-famous 
Surgeon  and  Scientist 

zoxite  destroys  and  removes  odor- 
causing  waste  substances.  Leaves  you 
feeling  so  sweet  and  clean.  Helps  guard 
against  infection,  zoxite  immediately 
kills  every  germ  it  touches.  You  know 
it's  not  always  possible  to  contact  all 
the  germs  in  the  tract.  But  you  can  be 
sure  amazing  zoxite  does  kill  every 
reachable  germ  and  keeps  them  from 
multiplying.  Any  drugstore. 

FREE!    NEW! 

For  amazing  enlightening  xew 

Booklet  containing  frank  discussion 

of  intimate  physical  facts,  recently 

published — mail   this  coupon   to 

Zonite   Products.   Dept.    RM-108    370 

Lexington  Ave.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 


Name 
Address- 


State- 


II 

■ 

91 


1k 


on 


Kitchen  Veqorcition 


Horn  of  Plenty" 


1.  Make  your  kitchen  "dance"  with  color  by 
decorating  all  shelves  with  Royledge  reds, 
greens,  blues,  etc.,  in  gay  designs  that  cheer 
you  up— avoid  drab,  blank  look ! 

2.  Change  kitchen  color  schemes  monthly- 
only  a  few  pennies  with  Royledge.  So  easy, 
place  Royledge  on  shelf,  fold  down  gay  edge. 

3.  "Touch  up"  closets,  open  shelves,  etc.  in 
every  room  with  gorgeous  Royledge  doubl- 
edge  shelving.  See  new  Royledge  designs  at 
5  &  10's,  naborhood,  hardware,  dept.  stores. 


dqe 


Shelving  Paper  and 
Edging  oli-in-one 
c'fif  9  ft.  8^ 

Trade  Mark  "Royledge"  Reg.  U.  S.  Pat.  Off. 


92 


High  School  Course 

at  Home 


Many  Finish  in  2  Yean 

L™  Go  u  rapidly  aa  your  time  and  abilities  permit.  Equivalent  to  resi- 
dent   Bohool  work — preparea    for    college-    entrance    exams.    Standard 
H.  8.   tezta  supplied.   Diploma  awarded.  Credits  for  U.  8.   eubjeeta 
completed.  Single  subjects  if  desired.  Ask  for  Free  Bulletin. 
American  School  Dept.  H792.  Orexel  at  58th.  Chicago  37 


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Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  from  page  45) 

Chinese  medical  association.  This  was 
followed  by  an  appointment  as  statisti- 
cian for  one  of  the  United  States  gov- 
ernment offices. 

Here  at  last  she  was  realizing  her 
double  dream — to  see  the  world  and  to 
work  at  her  profession  as  an  accountant. 
Her  boss  thought  she  was  out  of  her 
mind  when  she  asked  for  a  year's  leave 
of  absence.  He  pointed  out  that  she  had 
a  fine  salary  doing  work  she  liked,  and 
living  in  comparative  luxury  due  to  the 
favorable  rate  of  exchange  between 
American  and  Chinese  dollars. 

"I  came  to  see  China,"  Elsie  stated 
firmly,  "and  I  want  to  go  to  the  Yangtze 
gorges." 

The  Yangtze  gorges  were  2500  miles 
inland,  and  could  be  reached  only  by 
boat.  Her  boss  argued,  then  promised 
he  would  get  a  leave  for  her  next  year. 

"There  won't  be  a  next  year,"  said 
Elsie. 

And  she  was  right.  China  already  was 
in  turmoil.  By  the  time  she  had  changed 
boats  three  times  and  seen  what  she  be- 
lieves to  be  the  most  beautiful  river 
valley  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  she  was 
not  permitted  to  leave  the  tiny  native 
craft  at  Chungking.  The  communist  re- 
bellion had  broken  out.  The  next  year, 
the  Japanese  invaded. 

UANGKOW,  the  Chicago  of  China,  was 
11  her  next  destination,  and  from  there 
she  went  to  Peiping.  As  secretary  to  the 
president  of  the  College  of  Chinese 
Studies,  she  was  able  both  to  attend 
classes  and  earn  a  salary. 

About  that  time,  the  remainder  of  the 
one-way  ticket  to  Manila,  which  had 
brought  her  into  the  Orient,  was  about 
to  expire.  She  saw  no  reason  for  being 
penalized  ten  per  cent  for  cashing  it,  so 
she  booked  passage. 

Again,  she  arrived  with  the  news.  A 
shipping  strike  held  her  up  a  month  at 
Hongkong — a  month  during  which  the 
British  colony  seethed  with  the  an- 
nouncement that  their  King  had  abdi- 
cated for  "the  woman  he  loved."  To  the 
British  subjects,  it  was  more  than  the 
loss  of  a  monarch,  it  was  the  first  crack 
in  the  stability  of  the  Empire.  During 
her  wait,  Elsie  found  work  in  a  new  field 
— investigating  the  Chinese  motion  pic- 
ture industry  for  the  United  States  com- 
mercial attache. 

What  she  describes  as  "a  slight  affair 
of  the  heart"  brought  her  back  to 
Shanghai.  She  landed  on  Christmas  Day, 
1936,  just  as  the  news  broke  that  his  kid- 
nappers had  released  Chiang  Kai-shek. 

Shanghai  was  her  home,  and  the 
Rockefeller  Foundation  her  employer, 
until  August  13,  1937,  when  the  Japs 
bombed  the  city,  and  Elsie  Voight  found 
herself  in  the  international  news  dis- 
patches. 

"Just  like  you,  Tommy,  I  take  my  jobs 
seriously,"  she  told  me.  "We  were 
warned  to  stay  indoors.  I  started  for  the 
office,  feeling  there  must  be  some  way  I 
could  help.  A  sniper's  bullet  whizzed 
past  my  head  and  killed  the  man  behind 
me.  The  story  went  out  on  the  wires, 
and  my  folks  at  home  started  to  worry." 

"You  must  have  been  scared,"  I  said. 

"That  wasn't  the  narrowest  escape," 
she  replied. 

It  was  fortunate  her  parents  didn't 
know  that  greater  danger  awaited  her. 
More  than  400  women  and  children  were 
evacuated  to  Manila.  Their  small,  over- 
loaded boat  nearly  capsized.  An  hour 
after  they  docked,  the  worst  earthquake 
in  fifty  years  struck  Manila. 


Disregarding  her  own  harrowing  ex- 
perience and  the  loss  of  all  her  posses- 
sions, Elsie  Voight  pitched  in  to  do  what 
she  could  as  a  Red  Cross  volunteer.  Part 
of  that  work  was  collecting  stories  from 
the  survivors  for  publication  in  a  Manila 
newspaper. 

It  was  the  editor  of  that  paper  who 
found  Elsie  a  post  as  secretary  to  the 
president  of  the  American  Leprosy 
Foundation,  who  was  then  on  a  tour  of 
inspection  of  leprosaria.  They  went  to 
Dutch  East  Indies,  Singapore,  Ceylon, 
and  to  the  International  Leprosy  Con- 
ference at  Cairo.  Our  modern,  feminine 
Marco  Polo  also  saw  Greece,  Italy  and 
France,  and  had  three  dollars  in  her 
pocket  when  she  waved  hello  to  the 
Statue  of  Liberty  in  New  York  harbor. 

But  her  contract  with  the  Foundation 
called  for  return  to  San  Francisco.  They 
bought  her  first  class  and  Pullman 
tickets.  Elsie  exchanged  them  for  coach 
accommodations  and  had  $70  when  she 
sighted  the  Golden  Gate. 

But  in  1938  jobs  were  no  more  plenti- 
ful than  they  had  been  in  1932.  Our 
traveler's  want  ad  brought  a  single 
reply  from  an  author  who  offered  her 
$25  for  typing  a  story — if  he  sold  the 
story.  He  did,  however,  tell  a  news- 
paper editor  about  her.  Her  adventures, 
as  recounted  in  the  Chronicle,  caught 
the  attention  of  a  talent  scout  for  Edgar 
Guest's  "It  Can  Be  Done"  program. 
They  brought  her  to  Chicago  for  the 
show,  and  for  a  week,  she  lived  luxur- 
iously at  the  Drake  Hotel  with  scarcely 
a  penny  in  her  pocket.  Again,  she 
cashed  in  her  return  ticket,  and  used  the 
money  to  visit  New  Orleans  and  points 
of  interest  in  the  Southwest. 

The  next  year  she  did  her  exploring 
while  working  at  the  San  Francisco  ex- 
position, where  many  of  the  interesting 
things  of  the  world  were  compressed 
into  the  one  huge  fair.  When  it  closed, 
she  toured  Mexico  for  six  weeks  on  $66, 
saw  the  Florida  boom  as  bookkeeper  for 
a  swank  hotel,  was  studying  Spanish  at 
the  University  of  Panama  when  the  war 
started,  then  traveled  south  to  work  for 
a  United  States  Military  attache  in 
Peru. 

\  YEAR  of  that  job  was  enough.  Elsie 
rt  set  out  to  see  Peru.  Easy  travel  ended 
abruptly  when  she  found  a  jungle  lay 
between  her  and  her  next  destination, 
Pucallpa,  the  headwaters  of  the  Ama- 
zon river. 

The  only  passage  was  via  a  trail  which 
later  became  Peru's  Burma  Road.  There 
was  no  transportation,  so  Elsie  jettisoned 
her  luggage,  packed  an  overnight  case 
with  a  paring  knife  and  a  few  cans  of 
food,  and  started  to  walk.  She  was  alone 
until  she  encountered  a  missionary,  also 
bound  for  Pucallpa.  Together,  they 
plunged  through  the  dense  growth  for 
three  days  and  three  nights.  Beasts 
cried  in  the  darkness,  huge  snakes 
slithered  through  the  foliage.  They  told 
her  later  she  was  the  only  white  woman 
ever  to  walk  through  that  green  horror. 
Butj  Elsie  maintains  she  was  not  afraid. 
She's  a  fatalist  who  can't  waste  time  on 
senseless  fears. 

Fate  was  again  on  her  side  when  she 
reached  Mexico,  after  working  at  Quito, 
the  city  9500  feet  high,  Bogota,  and 
Guatemala  City.  Sightseeing  at  Vera 
Cruz,  she  was  attacked  while  walking 
on  a  public  highway,  stabbed,  robbed, 
thrown  over  a  cliff  and  left  for  dead. 
The  criminal  was  apprehended  and 
sentenced  to  death  by  the  Supreme 
Court  of  Mexico.  She  asked  for  clem- 
ency. She  had  survived,  and  she  wanted 
no  man's  death  on  her  head.  His  sen- 
tence was  reduced  to  twelve  years. 


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Elsie  sat  out  the  rest  of  the  war  in 
Chicago.  When  UNRRA  formed  she 
shipped  to  China  on  a  troopship  with  an 
appointment  as  field  auditor.  She  re- 
gards it  as  a  minor  incident  that  one 
plane  on  which  she  traveled  was  lost  for 
four  hours  with  both  radio  and  com- 
pass dead  before  the  pilot  contrived  an 
emergency  landing.  Why  talk  about 
that  when,  after  all,  nothing  happened? 
She  returned  on  a  Dutch  ship  via 
South  Africa,  leaving  the  vessel  at  Dur- 
ban to  go  overland.  She  fell  in  the 
Zambesi  River  while  viewing  Victoria 
Falls,  severely  injuring  both  legs,  but 
was  able  to  rejoin  the  ship  at  Capetown. 
Buenos  Aires,  Montevideo,  Santos,  Rio 
de  Janiero  and  Trinidad,  were  final 
ports  of  call  before  reaching  New  York. 
"What  happens  next?"  I  asked.  With 
this  girl,  there'd  be  no  sitting  at  home, 
resting! 

"I  hope  to  secure  an  appointment  to 
the  Economic  Cooperation  Administra- 
tion, Tommy.  I  would  like  to  go  to 
Europe.  I'd  like  to  do  what  I  can  to 
help  the  people." 

She  summed  up  her  feeling  toward 
"the  people"  with  the  statement,  "I  like 
the  human  race.  People,  individually, 
have  no  animosity.  Everyone  I  have 
ever  encountered  has  been  a  wonderful 
human  being.  If  only  nations  could  find 
the  same  way  of  getting  along  to- 
gether. .  .  . 

"It  sustains  my  faith  to  realize  that  re- 
gardless of  what  we  foolish  humans  do, 
the  rhythm  of  the  world  goes  on.  Every- 
where I  have  been,  I  have  seen  the  sun 
rise.  When  the  darkness  breaks  and  the 
first  rays  come,  I  feel  infinitesimal,  yet 
a  part  of  the  whole  universe.  Over  the 
chaos  created  by  humans,  there  is  a 
stronger  governing  power  which  con- 
trols that  universe.  Small  as  I  am,  I, 
too,  am  ruled  by  it,  and  must  do  my  part 
for  the  welfare  of  human  beings  every- 
where." 


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Coast  to  Coast 
in  Television 

(Continued  from  page  47) 

famous  party  giver,  writer,  and  friend 
of  socialites,  celebrities  and  royalty, 
will  start  her  own  television  show  very 
shortly.  While  in  Europe  last  summer, 
Miss  Maxwell  made  filmed  interviews 
with  celebrities  in  London,  Paris,  and 
Rome.  These  will  start  off  her  series, 
and  then  the  show  will  turn  to  her 
fabulous  parties;  the  scene  will  be  her 
own  apartment  in  the  Waldorf-Astoria 
— as  well  as  the  homes  of  friends  and 
places  of  national  interest.  Rumor  has 
it  that  the  show  will  carry  a  $5,000  per 

price  tag. 

*  *         * 

The  major  film  companies  in  the 
United  States  have  been  stalling  about 
getting  into  video  with  both  feet,  and 
if  they  don't  make  up  their  minds  soon, 
England's  J.  Arthur  Rank  will  beat 
them  to  the  punch.  After  two  years  of 
test  productions  of  telepix,  Rank  is 
now  ready  to  push  off  on  a  full  com- 
mercial program  of  television  fare  for 
all  parts  of  the  world.  He  could  invade 
the  U.  S.  market  in  nine  or  ten  months. 

*  *         * 

Independent  companies  in  Holly- 
wood are  on  their  toes  as  far  as  tele- 
vision is  concerned — far  ahead  of  the 
big  studios,  in  fact.  Cecil  B.  DeMille  is 
establishing  his  own  company  to  pro- 
duce video  films.  David  O.  Selznick.is 
investigating  possibilities  for  doing  the 
same  thing,  and  Robert  Productions — 
owned  jointly  by  Bob  Roberts,  John 
Garfield,  and  Abraham  Polonsky — are 
in  production  with  a  series  of  26  half- 
hour  films. 

*  *         * 

Texas  is  putting  in  its  bid  to  take 
some  of  the  television  monopoly  away 
from  New  York  and  Hollywood.  Plans 
are  under  way  for  a  million-dollar  film 
and  video  center  in  San  Antonio.  Some 
of  the  financing  is  coming  from  Holly- 
wood, though. 

*  *         * 

Just  when  sales  of  sets  are  soaring 
and  advertisers  are  beginning  to  see  the 
terrific  potentialities  of  the  medium, 
the  industry  is  confronted  with  a  short- 
age of  cathode  ray  tubes — those  are  the 
tubes  that  make  the  television  picture — 
and  current  production  can't  keep  up 
with  the  demand. 

*  *         * 

The  Republicans  and  Democrats  will 
each  have  spent  a  quarter  of  a  million 
dollars  to  televise  their  respective  can- 
didates before  you  go  to  the  polls. 

*  *         * 

When  audience  participation  radio 
shows  first  became  popular,  the  legiti- 
mate theater  was  at  a  low  ebb  and  it 
was  easy  for  the  networks  to  buy  up 
theaters  to  conduct  their  radio  pro- 
grams in;  now  television  is  going  to 
need  theaters  for  audience  shows,  but 
the  theaters  simply  are  not  available. 

*  *         * 

The  big  reason  that  more  old  movies 
are  not  available  to  television  is  the 
strong  objections  of  re-issue  companies 
and  theaters.  Organizations  like  Film 
Classics,  Inc.,  buy  up  movies  which  the 
major  companies  have  no  further  use 
for  and  rent  them  to  motion  picture 
theaters  which  are  devoted  exclusively 
to  the  showing  of  fairly  old  pictures. 
This  market  is  extremely  lucrative,  and 
a  one-shot  on  television  could  kill  off 
the  value  of  an  old  picture — so  it's  easy 
to  understand  why  those  distributors 
and  managers  who  have  been  waxing 
fat  want  video  to  keep  hands  off. 


I 


Poor  witness,  Clara . . .  Tears  smeared  her  mascara . . . 


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Life  of  Arthur  Godfrey 

{Continued  from  page  61) 

of  the  chipping  sparrow.  His  school- 
ing in  this  nature-lore  came,  of  course, 
from  his  experiences  down  in  Teter- 
boro  swamp. 

Hasbrouck  High,  like  every  other 
school,  had  its  usual  quota  of  students 
who  violated  rules  and  regulations.  It 
is  a  matter  of  record  that  not  once  was 
Arthur  ever  sent  to  the  principal's  of- 
fice for  discipline. 

Notwithstanding  that  fact,  Arthur 
blandly  remarked  to  his  teacher  one 
day:  "School's  all  right  but  it's  the 
principal  of  the  thing  I  don't  like." 

Maybe  it  was  a  Godfrey  pun  and 
maybe  it  was  indicative  of  his  inner 
conflict,  his  growing  hunger  to  realize 
a  life  outside  this  environment.  There 
were  other  times  when  Arthur  did  and 
said  things  that  further  revealed  this 
unrest.  Talking  to  Miss  Quigg,  an- 
other of  his  teachers,  he  once  declared, 
"I'd  like  to  go  out  and  see  the  world, 
even  if  it's  only  through  a  porthole." 

HE  made  that  remark  at  a  time  when 
colorful  Navy  recruiting  posters 
were  pasted  on  almost  every  fence.  The 
Navy  beckoned,  offering  the  lure  of  ex- 
citement, education  and  travel.  To 
Arthur,  the  world  was  a  huge  adventure 
book  whose  pages  were  yet  to  be  read. 

Two  of  his  four  years  at  high  school 
remained  uncompleted  when  certain 
developments  (what  they  were  is 
locked  in  Arthur's  heart)  crystallized 
his  decision  to  go  out  into  the  world. 
A  clue  as  to  what  prompted  this  de- 
cision lies  in  something  he  said  to  close 
friends  with  whom  he  stayed  for  a  short 
while. 

"It's  best  that  I  get  out  on  my  own," 
he  told  them.  "I  can't  continue  to  be 
a  burden  to  my  family." 

And  so  presently  the  world  that  was 
a  huge  adventure  book  began  to  reveal 
what  was  written  on  its  pages.  The 
text,  Arthur  was  soon  to  learn,  made  far 
less  glamorous  reading  than  he  had  led 
himself  to  expect.  The  text,  for  several 
chapters,  at  least,  was  to  contain  some 
tawdry,  uninspired  prose. 

Bravely,  with  high  purpose,  Arthur 
went  out  on  his  own.  From  shortly  be- 
fore Armistice  Day,  1918,  to  the  Spring 
of  1920,  his  activities  resembled  that 
crazy,  zig-zag,  in-again-out-again  be- 
havior of  the  steel  ball  in  a  pin-ball  ma- 
chine. His  score  was  a  fairly  consis- 
tent "tilt." 

Office  boy  with  a  New  York  architect 
.  .  .  dishwasher  .  .  .  confrere  of  down- 
and-outers,  glad  to  cadge  a  night's  sleep 
in  a  newspaper  warehouse  .  .  .  civilian 
typist  at  an  Army  Separation  Center  in 
New  Jersey  .  .  .  pick-and-shovel  man  in 
a  Pennsylvania  coal  mine  .  .  .  would-be 
lumberjack  .  .  .  farmhand  .  .  .  bum  again 
.  .  .  tire-finisher  in  an  Akron,  Ohio  tire 
plant  .  .  .  dishwasher  .  .  .  gambling- joint 
aide  .  .  . 

Confused  .  .  .  empty  .  .  .  without  di- 
rection .  .  . 

Arthur  must  have  done  some 
thorough  soul-searching  those  nights. 
Obviously,  this  wasn't  what  he'd 
planned  back  there  in  Hasbrouck 
Heights.     This  was  aimless  drifting. 

But,  what  was  it  he  wanted? 

He  knew.  Deep  inside  himself,  he 
really  knew.  The  thing  he  needed,  the 
thing  that  would  banish  these  nocturnal 
bouts  with  conscience  was  education — 
training  for  some  special  field  of  en- 
deavor— know-how  that  gave  man  a 
sense  of  integrity  and  self-confidence. 

The  U.  S.  Navy  gave  him  those  things. 


He  walked  into  a  Cleveland,  Ohio,  re- 
cruiting office  on  May  11,  1920\  and  got 
them  to  sign  him  up  for  a  two  year 
hitch.  Apprentice  Seaman  Godfrey 
went  through  boot  training  and  spe- 
cialist's training  for  radio.  He  crammed 
a  lot  of  other  special  know-how  into 
his  head  .  .  .  enough  to  qualify  him  for 
entrance  into  Annapolis.  His  impatience 
for  action,  movement  and  color  made 
him  choose,  instead,  a  tour  of  duty 
aboard  the  destroyer  "Upshur"  on 
which  he  served  as  radio  operator. 

When  his  first  hitch  was  up,  he  ex- 
tended it  for  another  two  years,  serving 
as  "Sparks"  aboard  the  cruiser  "Ro- 
chester" and  later  on  another  destroyer, 
the  Hatfield.  Action,  movement  and 
color  were  his  in  large  doses,  for  those 
two  ships  were  patrolling  the  Medi- 
terranean, particularly  the  Archipelago 
and  waters  of  the  Dodecanese  Islands. 
While  Arthur's  efficient  hand  pounded 
out  Morse  code  in  the  Hatfield's  radio 
shack,  his  glance  could  easily  take  in 
the  spectacle  of  night-sky  glowing 
blood  red  over  the  Turkish  mainland 
where  Mustapha  Kemal  Pasha's  troops 
were  busy  driving  the  Greeks  out  of 
Smyrna. 

On  a  mild  evening  in  the  Spring  of 
1924,  the  quiet  of  Hasbrouck  Heights 
was  broken  by  the  pleasant  plinkety- 
plank  of  a  banjo.  Folks  looked  up  from 
their  newspapers  and  knitting  and  saw 
a  gangling,  red-headed  gob  sauntering 
down  their  street.  Here  and  there,  a 
fluttery-eyed  flapper  gasped,  "Why,  it's 
Arthur!" 

Yes,  he  was  back  .  .  .  jaunty,  sun- 
tanned and  the  last  word  in  sophistica- 
tion as  he  strummed  on  that  banjo. 

It  was  good  being  back  among  friends. 
An  aura  of  glamor  enveloped  him  as 
he  answered  questions  about  his  ad- 
ventures in  distant  lands.  And  .  .  . 
it  was  good  to  be  with  his  family 
again  .  .  . 

But  before  many  weeks  had  passed, 
the  questions  were  asked  less  often  and 
life  at  home  again  brought  into  focus 
his  need  for  independence.  Hasbrouck 
Heights  was  home  ...  it  was  wonderful 
.  .  .  but  it  would  never  provide  an  an- 
swer to  his  own  burning  question: 
where  and  how  could  a  guy  make  a 
decent  living? 

THE  middle  1920s  had  arrived.  It  was 
a  time  when  the  miracle  of  mass  pro- 
duction was  attracting  men  from  every 
corner  of  the  country.  The  miracle,  of 
course,  was  happening  in  Detroit,  and 
Arthur  yielded  to  the  lure  of  five  dol- 
lars a  day  and  maybe  more. 

He  made  the  migration  .  .  .  found 
work  in  the  biggest  automobile  body 
plant,  an  inferno  of  mechanistic  sights, 
ear-splitting  sounds  and  lung-searing 
acid  smells.  It  was  a  pretty  rotten  con- 
trast to  the  clean  salty  tang  of  ocean 
and  the  neat  line  of  horizon  he'd  en- 
joyed these  past  few  years.  Arthur 
stuck  with  it  as  long  as  he  could,  and 
then  .  .  . 

Gratiot  Avenue  .  .  .  Lower  Woodward 
.  .  .  Jefferson  Avenue — right  down  the 
scale  of  Detroit's  less  desirable  em- 
ployment agencies.  At  last,  a  dog- 
eared card  thumb-tacked  to  one  bulletin 
board:  "Dishwasher  —  Good  Pay  — 
Meals." 

Dishwasher  in  a  greasy  spoon.  Pretty 
deplorable,  it  was  true,  but  Arthur  was 
eating  regularly  and,  what's  more,  an 
idea  began  revolving  inside  his  noggin. 
That  short-order  cook  working  behind 
the  counter,  for  instance.  Now,  what 
did  that  character  have  that  Arthur 
didn't  have?  Just  what  kind  of  talent 
did  a  guy  need  to  make  the  kind  of  food 


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they  served  in  these  "quickie"  joints? 

By  a  combination  of  salesmanship 
and  outright  misrepresentation  of  the 
facts,  Arthur  convinced  the  eatery 
owner  that  he,  Arthur,  was  really  an 
ace  cook  and  that  his  talents  were 
shamefully  wasted  back  there  at  the 
sink.  Result  .  .  .  Arthur  began  flip- 
ping flapjacks,  frying  eggs  and  fouling 
up  filets  like  a  veteran  and  at  a  raise 
in  pay! 

None  of  the  patrons  got  indigestion. 
In  fact,  there  were  a  few  murmurs  of 
approval  and,  since  Arthur  happened 
to  overhear  them,  his  ego  swelled  like 
a  ten-cent  balloon.  On  his  day  off,  he 
went  over  to  the  personnel  office  of  a 
big  chain  restaurant.  There,  behaving 
like  Oscar  of  the  Waldorf,  he  really 
pulled  out  all  the  stops  as  he  outlined 
his  cooking  prowess.  They  hired  him 
on  the  spot. 

Chef  Godfrey  reached  the  pinnacle 
some  months  later.  His  self-esteem  as 
a  skillet  artist  brought  him  to  the 
kitchen  of  Detroit's  Book-Cadillac 
Hotel.  Not  that  Arthur  just  waltzed  in. 
On  the  contrary,  he  had  to  talk  himself 
blue  in  the  face  before  that  French 
chef  hired  him — as  vegetable  peeler. 
With  the  job,  however,  went  a  verbal 
assurance  of  advancement.  The  chef 
undoubtedly  would  have  kept  his  word, 
except  that  his  untimely  death  inter- 
vened. Arthur  was  left  without  an  ally 
in  the  Book^Cadillac  kitchen.  The 
chef's  successors  proved  to  be  down- 
right unfriendly  and  so  he  quit  .  .  . 
a  move  for  the  best,  it  proved,  because 
presently  he  read  a  help-wanted  ad 
that  led  to  more  money  than  he  ever 
dreamed  of  earning. 

It  was  money  earned  by  way  of 
rather  macabre  method.  The  new  job 
was  selling  cemetery  plots.  His  boss,  a 
high-pressure  man  from  'way  back, 
showed  him  every  trick  in  the  trade 
and,  in  a  matter  of  months,  Arthur's 
salary  and  commissions  were  awe- 
inspiring.  He  had  a  bank-balance  in 
five  figures,  but  he  held  on  to  it  only 
until  he  encountered  someone  who  had 
a  sales  technique  just  a  shade  smoother 
than  his  own.  That  somebody  was  one 
of  Arthur's  prospective  customers  for 
a  cemetery  plot.  Arthur  never  sold 
him  the  plot  but  he  did  buy  a  half  in- 
terest and  equal  billing  in  the  man's 
vaudeville  act!  You  see,  Arthur  still 
had  that  banjo  .  .  .  and  a  strong  yen 
to  make  a  pleasant  plinkety-plank  on 
it,  just  as  he'd  done  in  amateur  shows 
aboard  the  U.S.S.  Hatfield. 

Vaudeville!  Show  business!  It  must 
have  seemed  like  a  dazzling  chance  to 
Arthur  because  he  went  for  it  to  the 


tune  of  his  entire  savings.  The  troupe 
got  bookings  on  a  minor  circuit  .  .  . 
got  a  rooking  from  unscrupulous  house 
managers  who  demanded  kick-backs 
.  .  .  and  Arthur  got  out  at  some  whistle 
stop  in  Wyoming,  with  a  few  months' 
questionable  experience,  an  utterly  de- 
flated wallet  and  a  pawnticket  for  his 
precious  banjo. 

He  went  on  to  the  West  Coast,  only 
to  contend  with  Hollywood's  colossal 
indifference  to  his  existence.  He 
bummed  it  once  again  and,  by  way  of 
the  box-cars,  arrived  in  Chicago.  There, 
he  talked  himself  into  a  taxi-driving 
job.  Wising  up  to  some  of  the  "angles," 
he  began  making  bigger  money  by 
taking  the  night-shift  ...  by  driving 
pleasure-bent  fares  to  places  of  amuse- 
ment on  the  seamier  side  of  town. 
One  night,  a  passenger  turned  out 
to  be  one  of  his  former  shipmates, 
now  serving  with  the  Coast  Guard. 
They  celebrated  their  reunion  .  .  . 
they  talked  far  into  the  dawn  .  .  .  and 
Arthur  was  sold  on  the  idea  of  joining 
up. 

In  1927,  he  served  aboard  the  U.  S. 
Coast  Guard  destroyer  Ammen. 

In  1929  .  .  . 

"Naval  Research  Laboratory,  Belle- 
vue,  Anacostia,  D.  C.  .  .  .  June  7,  1929 
...  to  A.  M.  Godfrey,  Radioman  first 
class  .  .  .  Subject:  Graduation  from 
Radio  Material  School.  1.  The  Director 
takes  pleasure  in  stating  that  you  have 
very  commendably  completed  the 
course  of  instruction  in  the  tenth  Radio 
Material  School  .  .  ." 

Even  if  you  hadn't  known  a  blessed 
thing  about  his  "very  commendable" 
graduation  from  radio  school,  you  might 
easily  have  guessed  that  Arthur's  mo- 
rale and  spirits  were  sky  high,  the  way 
he  plunked  on  that  brand-new  banjo  of 
his. 

His  outfit  was  stationed  near  Balti- 
more, at  the  time,  and  some  of  his  Coast 
Guard  pals  urged  him  to  take  a  crack 
at  a  local  broadcasting  studio's  amateur 
contest.  He  went  down  to  WFBR  and 
did  his  routine.  The  station  manager 
told  him  his  singing  wasn't  half  bad  and 
his  speaking  voice  was  slightly  terrific. 
Along  with  those  comments  went  a  job 
offer. 

That  night  and  for  many  a  night 
thereafter,  Arthur  mulled  it  over.  Staff 
radio  announcer.  It  sounded  important, 
exciting.  If  he  clicked,  it  might  prove 
to  be  the  best  break  that  ever  came  his 
way.  Some  of  these  radio  guys  made 
fantastic  money,  he'd  heard.  He  could 
send  a  lot  more  dough  home  to  the 
family  than  his  present  $84  a  month 
permitted. 


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On  the  other  hand,  suppose  he  didn't 
click  .  .  . 

Better  take  it  slow.  This  Coast 
Guard  deal  is  going  pretty  smoothly 
...  a  guy  can  advance  himself.  .  .  . 

"United  States  Coast  Guard — Dis- 
charge— This  is  to  certify  that  Arthur 
Morton  Godfrey  has,  this  first  day  of 
April,  1930,  been  discharged  under  hon- 
orable conditions  ...  at  his  own  request 
and  convenience.  Character  of  service: 
Excellent  ..." 

WFBR  billed  its  new  announcer  as 
"Red"  Godfrey,  The  Warbling  Banjoist. 
A  sponsor  picked  him  up:  The  Triangle 
Bird-Seed  And  Pet  Shop.  He  got  paid 
peanuts  but  something  told  him:  "Stick 
with  this  thing." 

He  undertook  every  kind  of  studio 
chore.  Listeners,  in  and  around  Balti- 
more, acquired  the  habit  of  tuning  in 
on  Red  Godfrey's  Melodians.  He  did  an- 
other show  called  Morning  Air  Mail.  A 
rival  Baltimore  station  carried  Amos 
'n'  Andy  at  7  to  7:15,  leaving  WFBR 
with  those  fifteen  minutes  of  minus- 
zero  time  on  its  hands.  Arthur  con- 
siderably raised  the  value  of  that 
quarter-hour  by  broadcasting  ukulele 
lessons.  He  m.c.'d  various  musical  pro- 
grams, rounding  them  out  with  an  oc- 
casional baritone  solo  of  his  own. 

OVER  the  year,  he  drew  twelve  thou- 
sand fan  letters! 

They  made  him  program  director  at 
WFBR. 

Washington's  WRC  had  its  spies  out. 
Their  reports  on  this  new  carrot- 
topped,  banjo-plunking  Baltimore  ori- 
ole evidently  intrigued  the  WRC  crowd. 
He  was  summoned  .  .  .  and  hired. 

As  of  that  day,  Arthur's  career 
zoomed  upward  and  onward  in  dazzling 
style.  He  was  like  a  man  riding  on  a 
comet  and  Washingtonians  behaved 
like  people  witnessing  such  a  spectacle. 

Although  WRC,  an  affiliate  of  the  Na- 
tional Broadcasting  Company,  had 
somewhat  coyly  kept  him  "under  cover" 
for  two  weeks,  local  newspaper  colum- 
nists were  prompt  in  reacting  to  the 
newcomer.  Don  Craig,  of  the  Washing- 
ton News,  wrote  that  he  "knows  how 
to  sing,  loves  to  act  ...  is  a  snappy  an- 
nouncer." Madeline  Ensign,  of  the 
Washington  Herald,  observed  that  "the 
new  redhead  over  WRC  way  ...  is  do- 
ing a  splendid  job.  He  has  all  the 
earmarks  of  a  Graham  McNamee-Ted 
Husing  in  the  making." 

Arthur's  Washington  debut  was  made 
on  November  1,  1930.  On  a  sunny  Sat- 
urday afternoon,  ten  months  and 
twenty-six  days  later,  he  was  driving 
his  car  northward  along  Chillum  Road 
in  Maryland.  Overhead,  the  Septem- 
ber sky  was  a  cloudless  blue. 

Sitting  casually  at  the  wheel,  Arthur 
hummed  softly  to  himself  and,  every 
now  and  then,  grinned  in  a  contented 
sort  of  way.  His  thoughts  purred  in 
harmony  with  the  car's  engine  .  .  . 

"Keep  'er  rolling  at  a  comfortable 
forty-five  .  .  .  that'll  get  me  to  the  air- 
port in  about  half  an  hour  .  .  .  ah,  me 
.  .  .  'tis  a  lovely  day  ...  a  beautiful  day 
for  a  flying  lesson  .  .  .  but  then,  it's  a 
beautiful  world,  as  nobody  can  deny 
.  .  .  and,  what's  more,  I'm  sitting  right 
smack  on  top  of  it  .  .  .  looks  like  I've 
clicked  .  .  .  got  me  doing  half  a  dozen 
different  programs  .  .  .  four  of  'em  spon- 
sored .  .  .  feels  good  .  .  .  mighty  good, 
after  all  that  uncertainty  .  .  .  kind  of 
figure  I've  found  myself  at  last  .  .  .  this 
isn't  just  another  job  .  .  .  looks  like  the 
Career  .  .  .  shaping  up  like  the  Big 
Money  .  .  .  enough  of  it  to  si  .id  more 
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sons  .  .  .  some  day  I'll  fly  a  plane  and, 
by  golly,  some  day  I'll  own  one,  too  .  .  . 
some  day,  I'll —  That  crazy  dope!  What's 
he  doing  on  this  side  of  the  road — !" 

The  big  truck  came  head  on,  careen- 
ing straight  toward  his  car!  No 
escape.  .  .  . 

Crashing,  blinding  blackness! 

At  Takoma  Park  Sanitarium,  they 
tried  to  patch  together  his  broken  body. 
There  were  lacerations  to  the  left  arm, 
left  hand,  left  leg  and  left  side  of  the 
head.  There  were  a  fractured  pelvis, 
dislocation  of  the  right  hip  and  frac- 
tures of  both  knee  caps.  There  were 
weeks  of  stunned,  pain-wracked  silence 
broken  only  by  the  hushed  voices  of 
doctors  and  nurses. 

A  pall  of  gloom  descended  upon 
Washington  and  its  neighboring  towns. 
Thousands  of  telephone  calls  jammed 
WRC's  switchboard.  Hundreds  of  tele- 
grams and  letters  poured  in  .  .  .  ex- 
pressions of  regret,  some  from  "im- 
portant" people,  but  mostly  from  just 
plain  Godfrey  fans. 

Hours,  days,  weeks  .  .  .  they  drag 
slowly  in  a  hospital  room.  Bones  and 
tissues  began  knitting  together.  The 
healing  process  was  under  way.  Slowly, 
he  came  up  out  of  pain  and  shock  .  .  . 
into  an  awareness  of  the  warm  affec- 
tion and  concern  expressed  by  his  new 
friends.    He  willed  himself  to  recovery. 

Four  long  months  after  the  crash, 
Arthur  was  at  the  WRC  mike  again 
.  .  .  and,  by  letters,  postcards  and  tele- 
phone, his  unseen  audience  said 
"Bravo!"  The  old  redhead  was  back 
and  in  the  swing  of  things.  True, 
there  was  a  slight  difference  ...  he 
had  returned  on  crutches  .  .  .  but  a 
cane  replaced  them  before  very  long 
and  in  time  even  that  ambulatory  prop 
went  the  way  of  all  firewood.  The  re- 
maining mark  of  his  terrible  accident 
was  a  noticeable  limp.  Less  obvious 
...  a  nagging  pain  in  his  right  hip  .  .  . 
that,  and  a  nervous  irritability  com- 
pletely new  to  his  personality.  These 
after-effects  bedevilled  Arthur  but  he 
did  his  level  best  to  keep  signs  of  them 
hidden. 

1932  and  1933  unwound  their  days 
from  the  spool  of  time  and,  for  The 
Warbling  Banjoist,  virtually  every  one 
of  those  days  was  marked  by  a  stag- 
gering schedule.  He  was  heard  over 
WRC  (then  the  Red  Network  affiliate) 
and  also,  over  WMAL  (attached  to  The 
Blue),  both  being  Washington  outlets 
for  their  parent  National  Broadcasting 
Company.  Both  outlets  had  studios 
in  the  same  building.  Despite  that  fact, 
Arthur  had  to  hop  around  in  lively 
fashion  to  keep  his  program  commit- 


ments. A  little  master-of-ceremonies 
activity  in  night  clubs  and  on  the  stage 
of  RKO-Keith's  theater  didn't  lessen 
the  work-load.  You'd  think  he  was  a 
network  personality. 

The  blow-up  came  on  January  2,  1934 
...  a  day  that  began,  as  usual,  at  six 
in  the  morning.  Arthur  did  his  WMAL 
Breakfast  Club  broadcast  until  nine 
and  remained  around  the  studio,  on  call, 
until  noon.  He  returned  that  after- 
noon to  announce  the  Farm  and  Home 
program.  Before  filling  that  assign- 
ment, though,  he  rehearsed  with  band- 
leader Ben  Bernie  who,  whenever  per- 
forming in  Washington,  requested  the 
redhead's  services.  Maestro  Bernie's 
broadcast  went  over  the  net  that  eve- 
ning with  a  repeat  broadcast  for  the 
West  Coast  later  on  in  the  night.  Scat- 
tered between  the  highpoints  of  that 
day's  agenda  were  a  few  other  sched- 
uled programs  that  leaned  on  the  God- 
frey voice-magic. 

Arthur  got  through  the  day.  At  mid- 
night, knowing  he'd  reached  some  sort 
of  physical  limit,  he  contacted  WMAL's 
station  manager  and  advised  him  he 
wouldn't,  couldn't  preside  over  next 
morning's  Breakfast  Club.  Arthur  was 
told  that  someone  would  pinch-hit  for 
him.  He  mumbled  his  thanks,  crawled 
home  and  slept.  .  .  . 

Slept  well  into  the  next  day  ...  so 
well,  in  fact,  that  he  appeared  at  the 
studio  only  minutes  before  his  5:15 
broadcast.  Arthur,  serenely  rested  and 
long  familiar  with  the  show's  routine, 
was  all  set  to  carry  on  in  his  usual  un- 
ruffled fashion.  He  made  his  entrance 
in  an  atmosphere  of  clicking  stop- 
watches, scratching  blue  pencils,  mut- 
tered cuss -words  and  utter  confusion. 
Arthur's  cheery  "Hi'ya,  people — "  froze 
on  his  lips.  The  freezing  was  done  by 
the  station  manager's  frosty  stare,  or 
rather  glare.  In  strictly  uncompli- 
mentary terms,  Arthur's  lateness  was 
challenged.  The  tardy  one  retorted 
angrily.  There  was  an  exchange  of 
insults.  The  manager  shouted,  "I  don't 
like  your  attitude!"  Arthur  shouted 
back  the  well-known  suggestion  as  to 
what  the  station  manager  could  do 
with  his  job.  Then  he  strode  out  .  .  . 
into  the  January  dusk. 

He  walked  for  hours.  Now,  an  icy 
blizzard  pelted  him.  The  heat  of  his 
anger  cooled  considerably  as  he  sat 
hunched  and  weary  on  a  park  bench. 
His  thoughts  became  less  chaotic  and 
more  dismal  as  he  appraised  the  situ- 
ation. Great  guns!  Had  he  actually 
quit?  His  mind's  eye  beheld  a  scene 
of  ruin  and  desolation.  It  viewed  the 
wreckage  of  his  carefully-built  career. 


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He  had  let  two  minutes  of  uncontrolled 
temper  blast  the  edifice  that  he'd 
erected  these  past  few  years.  It  didn't 
seem  possible.    It  didn't  make  sense. 

His  mind's  eye  beheld  another  image 
.  .  .  a  girl's  face.  Only  yesterday,  the 
merest  glimpse  of  it  would  have  caused 
his  heart  to  skip  several  beats  .  .  .  for 
it  was  a  lovely,  radiant  face  crowned  by 
copper-gold  hair  and  livened  by  a  pair 
of  laughing  blue  eyes.  Mary  Bourke! 
What  would  she  think  of  him  now? 
What  might  he  read  in  those  beloved 
features?  Would  he  find  sympathy  .  .  . 
understanding?  Or  would  there  be 
mockery  .  .  .  cold  disapproval  of  his 
brash  behavior?  Wretchedly,  he  re- 
alized he  couldn't  confront  Mary  until 
something,  someone  extricated  him 
from  this  catastrophe. 

He  needed  straightening  out  .  .  . 
guidance.  Arthur  got  to  a  telephone. 
He  called  "Scoop"  Russell,  one  of  the 
station's  vice-presidents.  "Scoop"  was 
a  good  egg  .  .  .  he'd  have  some  ideas. 

Russell  listened  sympathetically.  He 
advised  Arthur  to  report  in  next  morn- 
ing and  go  through  with  the  motions  of 
an  apology  to  the  station  manager.  Ar- 
thur eagerly  agreed  to  the  plan  and 
carried  it  out  promptly  next  morning. 
The  station  manager  primly  shook 
hands,  said  "Let's  forget  it"  and  added — 
"but  we  no  longer  have  a  spot  here  for 
you." 


SO  he  was  fired,  anyway!  Stunned, 
Arthur  stood  there  for  a  few  tense 
seconds.  Then,  in  one  pungent,  ex- 
plosive sentence  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  any  stevedore,  he  gave  vent 
to  his  withering  opinion  of  the  station 
manager.  With  that,  he  turned  and 
made  his  final  exit. 

As  he  stormed  out  of  the  building,  one 
idea  roared  through  his  head.  "I'm 
through  with  radio!  Through  with  it 
for  good!" 

When  Washingtonians  failed  to  hear 
Arthur  Godfrey's  voice  three  mornings 
in  a  row,  eyebrows  began  arching, 
tongues  began  wagging  and  reporters 
began  snooping.  The  hue  and  cry  was 
on — "Where  is  Red  Godfrey?" 

Feature  writers  and  columnists  failed 
to  find  him  at  NBC,  at  his  home  or  at 
any  of  his  regular  haunts.  Grotesquely 
garbled  versions  of  his  abrupt  disap- 
pearance from  the  air  (and  seemingly 
from  the  earth)  were  printed  in  various 
newspaper  columns.  A  rash  of  letter- 
writing  took  place.  A  small  minority 
hailed  the  redhead's  downfall.  A  vast 
pro-Godfrey  majority  expressed  opin- 
ions ranging  from  mild  shock  to  strong 
denunciation.  One  letter,  with  forty- 
eight  signatures  attached  to  it,  appeared 
in  the  Washington  Daily  News.  "We 
have  forcefully  stated,"  it  said,  "that  as 
far  as  we  are  concerned,  WMAL  can 
take  a  running  jump  off  the  old  dock. 
The  officials  may  be  big-shot  business 
men  but  we  think  they  are  a  bunch  of 
punks." 

Meanwhile,  where  was  Red  Godfrey? 

One  man  who  had  a  hunch  as  to  his 
whereabouts  was  Harry  Butcher,  of 
WJSV  (WTOP,  nowadays).  He  knew 
that  Arthur  owned  a  half-interest  in  a 
flying  school.  It  was  late  at  night  but 
the  executive  nailed  Arthur  at  the  air- 
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were  having  drinks  and  discussion  in 
Butcher's  apartment. 

Next  day,  WJSV's  publicity  staff  fan- 
fared  the  big  news.  Arthur  Godfrey 
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former  Breakfast  Club  show  on  WMAL. 
Up  and  down  Washington's  radio  row, 
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siders  let  it  be  known  that  Harry- 
Butcher  had  lured  Arthur  with  superior 
money  and  the  promise  of  a  completely 
free  hand  regarding  the  running  of  his 
two  hour  sunrise  feature.  Everyone 
agreed  it  was  a  case  of  out  of  the  frying 
pan  and  into  a  bed  of  roses. 

Only  a  few  days  after  Arthur  made 
his  bow  at  WJSV,  he  stepped  into 
Butcher's  office. 

"Harry,  let's  face  it.  I'm  kind  of 
worried." 

"Worried?    About  what?" 

"Haven't  you  heard?  WMAL  is 
bringing  Don  Douglas  down  to  m.c.  the 
Breakfast  Club." 

"So  what?" 

"But,  Harry,  that  guy's  from  New 
York!  He'll  be  terrific  competition. 
I've  got  to  think  of  something — fast!" 

Butcher  shook  his  head,  grinning. 
"Arthur,  almost  every  one  of  your  for- 
mer Breakfast  Club  sponsors  has 
changed  over  with  you.  And  if  you 
want  another  sign  of  loyalty,  take  a 
look  at  that  mountain  of  mail.  I  don't 
think  you  realize  your  own  strength." 

ARTHUR  appeared  not  to  be  listening. 
His  blue  eyes  were  narrowed,  specu- 
latively and  mischievously.  He  snapped 
his  fingers  and  exclaimed,  "I've  got  a 
stunt  that'll  knock  this  Don  Douglas 
debut  into  a  cocked  hat!" 

"Go  ahead.    I'm  listening." 

"My  rival  premieres  next  Friday. 
Okay.  On  Friday,  instead  of  starting 
my  program  at  seven,  same  time  as  his 
Breakfast  Club,  suppose  we  beat  them 
to  the  punch  by  starting  the  Sun  Dial 
one  minute  after  twelve.  I  mean  broad- 
cast from  midnight  until  nine  next 
morning!" 

Harry  Butcher  tapped  a  pencil 
thoughtfully.  "An  all-night  broadcast," 
he  murmured.  "Well,  the  stunt  might 
be  good  for  a  few  lines  of  mention  in 
Variety." 

Even  radio  executives  can  make  un- 
derstatements .  .  . 

At  one  minute  after  midnight  on  the 
morning  of  January  26,  1934,  Red  God- 
frey sat  shivering  in  the  shack  next  to 
WJSV's  lonely  transmitting  tower  far 
outside  of  Washington.  On  the  table  at 
which  he  sat  were  a  thermos  jug  of  hot 
coffee,  a  few  sandwiches,  a  tall  stack 
of  popular  records,  a  turn-table,  a  tele- 
phone and  a  microphone. 

A  platter  was  spinning  .  .  .  "The 
Carioca."  Arthur  had  given  it  one  of 
his  typically  zany  introductions.  Now, 
with  the  music  under  way,  his  thoughts 
did  a  bit  of  spinning,  too. 

"Just  a  voice  in  the  wilderness.  Going 
on  the  air  in  the  dead  of  night.  Bet 
there  isn't  one  radio  turned  on.  I 
ought  to  have  my  head  examined — " 

"The  Carioca"  came  to  a  finish.  Ar- 
thur made  with  another  informal  in- 
troduction. The  next  tune  was  "Stormy 
Weather,"  but  before  its  torchy  lyrics 
got  going,  Arthur  invited  "any  of  you 
mugs  to  telephone  in  your  requests." 

"Yeah,"  he  thought,  "and  maybe  the 
man  in  the  moon'll  phone  in  asking  for 
'On  The  Sunny  Side  Of  The  Street'. 
Maybe — " 

The  telephone's  sharp  ring  was  so 
sudden  and  loud  that  he  nearly  fell  off 
his  chair.  He  picked  up  the  receiver. 
His  caller  was  a  listener  from  Maryland. 

"Say!  I  could  hear  that  telephone 
ring  over  my  loudspeaker!" 

"Sure  you  could,"  Arthur  answered. 
"I  have  a  live  mike  here.  Can't  switch 
it  off,  so  you'll  hear  everything  that 
goes  on  in  this  ice-box.  What  can  I 
do  for  you,  m'friend?" 

"Play  'There'll  Be  Some  Changes 
Made',  will  you,  Red?" 


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"There'll  Be  Some  Changes  Made"! 
He  received  that  first  request  with 
mixed  feelings.  It  had  the  disturbing 
flavor  of  prophecy  in  it. 

But  more  calls  came  in  ...  an  end- 
less stream  from  almost  every  state  in 
the  union!  From  Cuba  .  .  .  from  Can- 
ada. Night-shifters  and  insomniacs 
everywhere  were  picking  up  Arthur's 
nocturnal  nonsense — because  virtually 
every  other  station  had  signed  off. 
WJSV  had  a  clear  channel. 

Arthur  sang,  yawned,  ad  libbed  and, 
in  general,  outraged  every  rule  of  radio 
decorum.  He  conducted  a  session  of 
broadcast  buffoonery  that  kept  his  tele- 
phone wire  red  hot. 

Up  until  now,  he  was  strictly  a  local 
character.  The  comet  he'd  been  riding 
had  been  traversing  an  orbit  'round 
and  'round  the  Washington  scene.  To- 
night, however,  curious  magnetic  forces 
were  at  work.  Tonight,  the  orbit  of 
his  comet  was  destined  for  a  spectacu- 
lar change. 

While  Arthur  shivered  over  that  hot 
mike,  the  magnetic  forces  were  at  work 
200-odd  miles  to  the  north.  Not  at 
work,  really.  Relaxing  would  be  a 
better  word.  They  were  lounging 
around  in  a  penthouse  apartment  on 
Manhattan's  Central  Park  West.  The 
magnetic  forces  were  a  collection  of 
some  half-dozen  of  America's  most 
famous  personalities  .  .  .  the  brightest 
constellations  in  the  theatrical  firma- 
ment. 

Their  host,  himself  a  star-maker, 
went  to  his  telephone  and  put  through 
a  long  distance  call. 

Down  in  the  transmitter  shack,  Ar- 
thur wearily  picked  up  his  telephone 
receiver.  The  voice  he  heard  was 
crisp,  staccato.  "Hello,  Godfrey?  This 
is  Winchell!" 

"Greetings,  m'friend.  This  is  Micky 
Mouse."  Fatigue  and  boredom  were 
evenly  matched  in  Arthur's  voice. 

"Look,  dope!  This  is  Winchell!  I've 
been  catching  your  broadcast  here  in 
New  York." 

Arthur's  disbelief  bordered  on  rude- 
ness. Desperately,  his  caller  attempted 
to  convince  him.  In  that  famous 
rata-tat-tat  tempo,  he  began:  "Good 
evening,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  North  and  South 
America,  and  all  the  ships  at  sea.  This 
is  your  reporter,  Walter  Winchell.  Let's 
go  to  press — !" 

Arthur  was  convinced.  "Gee,  I 
thought  this  was  a  gag.  Mighty  pleased 
to  meet  you." 

THE  celebrated  columnist  voiced  simi- 
lar sentiments  and  then  made  a  re- 
quest ...  a  special  one  .  .  . 

"Do  you  have  any  Ben  Bernie  records 
handy?" 

Arthur  said  he  did. 

"Swell.  I  wish  you'd  spin  one  that 
has  the  Old  Maestro  doing  a  vocal. 
Then,  while  it's  on,  I  wish  you'd  start 
needling  him.  You  know,  give  him  the 
works." 

"I  get  it,"  Arthur  said,  chuckling. 
Like  a  million  other  people,  he'd  been 
following  the  famous  feud  between 
Winchell  and  the  bandleader. 

Sweet  music  from  a  Bernie  disc  went 
over  the  air-waves.  The  Maestro's 
softly  whispered,  half-spoken  vocal 
purred  along  with  the  melody.  Every 
time  Bernie  made  with  one  of  those 
lingering  pauses,  Arthur's  barrel  voice 
would  break  in  with  one  of  his  rowdy 
ad  libbed  remarks,  completely  blast- 
ing the  lyrics'  sweet  sentiment. 

It  was  a  howl.  Telephone  operators 
all  over  the  country  were  going  frantic 
in  their  attempts  to  put  through  calls, 
but  Arthur's  single  line  was  jammed. 


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It  was  an  amusing  gag,  Arthur 
thought.  Nice  of  Winchell  to  ask  him 
in  on  it.  What  Arthur  didn't  know  was 
listening  with  Winchell  in  his  New  York 
apartment  were  Ruth  Etting,  Jimmy 
Cannon,  Billy  Rose,  Mark  Hellinger — 
and  Ben  Bernie! 

Another  thing  he  didn't  know:  the 
comet  he'd  been  riding  was  at  that 
moment  being  guided  from  its  narrow 
orbit  into  a  brilliant  arc  that  would 
soon  flash  across  the  national  scene. 

Within  forty-eight  hours,  Walter 
Winchell  began  beating  the  drum.  Fol- 
lowers of  his  column  were  reading: 
"Among  other  buried  personalities — 
who  belong  in  New  York — is  a  stranger 
to  me  named  Arthur  Godfrey.  I  got  a 
load  of  his  stuff  when  he  happened  to 
be  on  an  all-night  show  the  other  night. 
Godfrey  is  stuck  down  there  across  the 
Potomac  from  the  Capitol.  But  he  is 
big-time.  His  quips  are  sly — and  his 
fly-talk  is  terrifically  Broadway  or  Big 
Town.  Some  shrewd  radio  showman 
should  bag  him  for  New  York  to  make 
our  midnight  programs  breezier  .  .  . 
talent  is  at  a  premium  ...  I  haven't 
picked  a  flop  yet." 

Whoosh!  In  one  stroke  his  name  was 
blazoned  across  the  sky!  They  read 
that  name  from  California  to  Connecti- 
cut .  .  .  from  The  Great  Lakes  to  the 
Rio  Grande.- 

AT  WJSV  in  Washington  a  yellow 
snowstorm  of  telegrams  descended  on 
Arthur.  They  came  from  "shnewd 
radio  showmen"  who  were  scrambling 
to  climb  on  the  Godfrey  bandwagon. 
Delighted  but  bewildered,  he  tele- 
phoned Winchell  whose  advice  was: 
come  up  here  and  we'll  sift  through 
every  one  of  those  offers.  I'll  be  your 
unofficial  manager  and  tell  you  which 
one  is  best. 

In  his  column  of  February  8,  Winchell 
wrote:  "Well,  that's  getting  action — 
and  my  thanks  to  those  who  think  my 
judgment  is  good.  Arthur  Godfrey, 
the  chap  whose  microphoning  falls  on 
easy  ears,  has  been  signed  by  the  Co- 
lumbia Broadcasting  Network.  Arthur 
commences  on  a  coast-to-coast  twice 
weekly  sometime  next  week  .  .  ." 

Local  to  network  .  .  .  dramatically 
overnight  .  .  .  with  all  the  spectacular 
pyrotechnics  of  a  fiery  comet! 

Fourteen  fabulous  years  have  passed 
since  that  Winchell- blessed  event. 
Scarcely  one  year  in  the  Big  Time 
would  have  passed  if  Arthur  had  been 
a  flash  in  the  pan,  a  "phony."  But  then, 
that  gets  right  down  to  the  root  of  the 
matter.  Once  given  the  opportunity  to 
make  his  acquaintance,  Americans  have 
completely  accepted  Arthur  .  .  .  partly 
because  of  his  droll  way  with  a  song 
and  a  joke  but  mainly  because  of  his 
complete  genuineness.  It  just  happens 
that  he  is  the  composite  American  .  .  . 
the  breezy,  believable  guy  with  whom 
it's  a  pleasure  to  share  a  few  minutes 
or  half  hour  of  your  time. 

Launched  into  national  fame  by  the 
"magnetic  forces,"  Arthur  has  himself 
become  an  amazing  magnet  ...  a  phe- 
nomenal force  that  attracts  radio  spon- 
sors by  the  station-wagon  load.  With 
infallible  effectiveness,  he  goes  to  bat 
for  them  at  his  CBS  microphone  for  a 
total  of  seventeen  and  a  half  hours  each 
week  .  .  .  and  that  staggering  schedule 
tees  off  at  six  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
five  mornings  each  week. 

Fourteen  years  have  passed.  For  Ar- 
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f&  FINE  SUIT  "tV^T 


BIG  CASH  EARNINGS,  TOO! 

Biff  newsl  This  fine  tailored  snit  yours  without  paying 
one  cent— and  biff  cash  earnings,  tool  It's  easyl  Just 
take  a  few  orders.  Earn  up  to  $10  in  a  day  and  get  your 
own  suit  as  extra  bonus.  Dozens  of  rich  new  fabrics, 
superbly  tailored  in  latest  styles,  at  low  prices  produce 
orders  on  sight.  Money-back  guarantee. 
FREE  SAMPLES  1  Write  today  giving  name,  address. 
age,  etc.  for  big  complete  outfit  of  actual  samples  and  de- 
tails of  amazingnew  Bonus  Suit  and  money -making  plan 
-All  Sent  Free!  No  experience,  SEND  NO  MONEY! 
W.  Z.  GIBSON.  Inc.,  50©  S.Throop  St.,  Dept.  K635,Chlcago  7,111. 


Sell 

/Name-.lmpwifetJ 

CHRISTMAS 
CARDS 

50  fori 

Also 
Assortments 


Take  easy,  big  profit 
orders  from  friends,  others.  Show 
Christmas  Cards  with  name  —  5  big  1  ines 
selling  at  50  for  $1.00  up.  Amazing  designs, 
gorgeous  papers.  FREE  SAMPLES.  Also  sell 
$1.00  assortments  of  Christmas  Cards,  Gift 
Wrappings,  Everyday  CardB,  Stationery. 
Christmas  assortment  senton  approval  .Write 
Southern  Greeting  Card  Co.,  Dept.A-22 
216  S.  Pauline  Street,  Memphis,  Tenn. 


LOOSE  DENTAL  PLATES 

RELINED   AND  TIGHTENED   AT   HOME   $1.00 

NEWLY  IMPROVED  DENDEX  RELINER,  a 
plastic,  builds  up  (refits)  loose  upper  and 
lower  dentures.  Really  makes  them  fit  as 
h  they  should  without  using  powder.  Easily 
•  applied.  No  heating:  required.  Brush  it  on 
and  wear  your  plates  while  it  sets.  It  ad- 
i  heres  to  the  plates  only  and  makes  a 
f  comfortable,  smooth  and  durable  surface 
that  can  be  washed  and  scrubbed.  Each 
application  lasts  for  months.  Not  a  powder 
or  wax.  Contains  no  rubber  or  prum.  Neu- 
tral pink  color.  Sold  on  MONEY-BACK  GUARANTEE.  Not 
sold  in  stores.  Mail  $1  for  generous  supply,  brush  and 
directions  and  we  pay  postage.  Charges  extra  on  C.O.D. 
orders.      Proved  by  10  years  of  Consumer  Use 

DENDEX  COMPANY,    Dept.  77-8 
2024  West  6th  Street  •  Los  Angeles  5,  Calif. 


Mary  Bourke  Godfrey  and  she  repre- 
sents one  third  of  his  reason  for  rush- 
ing homeward  after  his  stint  at  the 
CBS  studio  in  New  York.  The  other 
two  thirds?  They  are  minx-eyed, 
pixie-faced,  five-year-old  Patricia  and 
that  miniature  of  Arthur,  Mike,  age 
seven.  Priceless  possessions,  those 
three  .  .  . 

In  the  category  of  crass,  material 
possessions,  Arthur  has  acquired  much 
.  .  .  an  800-acre  farm  atop  Catoctin 
Mountain,  near  Leesburg,  Virginia  .  .  . 
a  magnificent  home  in  the  midst  of  its 
lush  acreage  ...  a  stable  of  thorough- 
bred steeds  ...  a  sailing  sloop  or  two 
.  .  .  a  private  plane  or  two  .  .  a  car 
or  two  ...  a  penthouse  apartment  in 
Manhattan  ...  a  half  dozen  offices  in 
which  to  conduct  his  complex  business 
affairs  ...  a  small  army  of  assistants 
headed  by  dependable  Margaret  "Mugs" 
Richardson  .  .  .  and  a  host  of  friends. 

As  a  rule,  when  a  man  is  fortunate 
enough  to  acquire  such  wonderful 
things  in  that  quantity,  he  consciously 
or  otherwise  acquires  a  sort  of  slick 
veneer  .  .  .  mannerisms  and  attitudes 
usually  identified  with  "the  filthy  rich." 
Arthur  has  mannerisms — the  kind  that 
put  you  completely  at  ease,  as  com- 
pletely as  if  you  were  chatting  with 
your  best  pal.  His  attitudes?  He's  for 
you  one  hundred  percent  providing 
you're  not  a  phony  .  .  .  providing  you 
believe  a  man  should  be  judged  on  his 
merit,  not  on  background  or  bankbook. 
And  nobody  in  the  business  is  quicker 
than  Arthur  at  spotting  the  phonies. 

No  "phony"  cares  to  go  back,  either 
actually  or  conversationally,  to  the 
scene  of  his  humble,  almost  impover- 
ished childhood.  Arthur  hasn't  forgotten 
Hasbrouck  Heights  where,  when  he  was 
all  of  eleven  years  old,  he  knew  the 
want  of  a  dollar  and,  knowing,  went  out 
and  worked  for  it.  Call  it  nostalgia, 
call  it  what  you  will,  the  place  and  its 
people  pull  at  him.  His  home  town 
crops  up  frequently  in  his  random 
reminiscences  at  the  microphone.  He 
has  mentioned  the  barn  behind  Ehler's 
grocery  store  where  he  used  to  stable 
Dobbin  after  a  day's  work.  He  has 
mentioned  old  John  Ferrari  of  the 
Sweet  Shoppe.  He  has  mentioned  (a 
little  wryly,  perhaps)  J.  Earle  Thom- 
son, principal  of  Hasbrouck  High.  Don't, 
by  the  way,  let  Arthur  fool  you  when 
he  makes  cracks  about  his  former  prin- 
cipal. That  happens  to  be  a  routine, 
for  there  was  never  an  unfriendly  word 
between  them. 

IT  could  be  that  there  are  more  im- 
pressive success  stories  than  the  one 
belonging  to  Arthur,  but  it's  a  safe  bet 
that  none  of  them  has  the  pay-off  that 
goes  with  this  one.  The  astoundingly 
successful  radio  personality  who  is  the 
hero  of  this  piece  is  the  owner  and  pilot 
of  a  private  plane.  Since  he  divides  his 
time  between  a  Virginia  farm  and  a 
New  York  office  skyscraper,  he  uses 
said  private  plane  for  commuting  to 
and  from  these  points  .  .  . 

At  least  once  a  week  he  lands  it  or 
takes  off  at  Teterboro  Airport,  down 
the  hill  from  Hasbrouck  Heights.  The 
pay-off  comes  when  you  realize  that 
Teterboro  is  the  exact,  precise  patch  of 
land  where,  thirty  years  ago,  a  red- 
headed kid  named  Arthur  Godfrey, 
used  to  set  his  crude  traps  for  muskrats, 
on  account  of  he  didn't  have  the  price 
of  that  keen  hunting  rifle.  It  would  al- 
most seem  as  though  there  were  more 
than  just  the  years — even  thirty  of  them 
— between  those  two  human  beings. 
Well,  there  has  been  more — all  those 
years,  plus  Godfrey. 


Relieve 
Constipation 
Pleasantly! 

EX-LAX  has  proved  to  millions 
that  a  good  laxative  can  be  really 
pleasant  as  well  as  effective. 

Delicious  Chocolate  Taste  I 

That  chocolate  taste  of  Ex-Lax  is 
really  swell.  It  makes  a  hit  with 
youngsters  and  grown-ups  alike. 

Gentle/  Thorough  Relief! 

Ex-Lax  gets  thorough  results  in 
such  a  gentle  way.  It  is  biologically 
tested  to  assure  effective  action. 

Really  Dependable! 

Over  40  million  boxes  sold  last 
year.  Many  doctors  use  Ex-Lax  in 
their  practice. 

Economical! 

Ex-Lax  is  still  only  10$.  There  is 
no  better  laxative  at  any  price. 

When  Nature 'forgets'!., 
remember 

EX- LAX 

THE  CHOCOLATED  LAXATIVE 


SUKRS  PSORIASIS 

(SCALY     SKIN     TROUBLE! 

D€RmOIL 


MAKE  THE  ONE 

SPOT 

TEST 


how  long  you  have  suffered 
or  what  you  have  tried. 
Beautiful  book  on  psoria- 
sis   and    Dermoi  I    with 
amazing,     true     photo- 
graphic proof  of  results 
sent  FREE.  Write  for  it. 


SEND    FOR 

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•)  TRIAL 
SIZE    > 


Don't   mistake  et 

for  the  stubborn,  ugly 
embarrassing  scaly  skin 
disease  Psoriasis.  Apply 
non-staining  Dermoi  I. 
Thousands  do  for  scaly 
spots  on  body  or  scalp. 
Grateful  users,  often  after 
years  of  suffering:,  report 
the  scales  have  gone,  the 
red  patches  gradually  disappeared  and  ^^^^^^ 
they  enjoyed  the  thrill  of  a  clear  skin  again.  Dermoi  I 
is  used  by  many  doctors  and  is  backed  by  a  positive  agree- 
ment to  give  definite  benefit  in  2  weeks  or  money  is  re- 
funded without  question.  Send  10c  (stamps  or  coin)  for 
generous  trial  bottle  to  make  our  famous  "One  Spot  Test". 
Test  it  yourself.  Results  may  surprise  you.  Write  today  for 
your  test  bottle.  Caution:  Use  only  as  directed.  Print  name 
plainly.  Don't  delay.  Sold  by  Liggett  and  Walgreen  Drug 
Stores  and  other  leading  Druggists.  LAKE  LABORATORIES, 
Box  3925,  Strathmoor  Station,  Dept.  1804,  Detroit  27„  Mich. 


^LGrayHair 

...AND  LOOK /O 
YEARS  YO(///G£R 

•  Now,  at  home,  you  can 
quickly  tint  telltale  streaks 
of  gray  to  natural-appearing 
shades — from  lightest  blonde 
to  darkest  black.  Brownatone 
and  a  small  brush  does  it — or 
your  money  back.  Approved 
by  thousands  of  women  (men. 
too) — Brownatone  is  depend- 
able— guaranteed  harmless  when  used  as  directed. 
No  skin  test  needed.  Cannot  affect  waving  of  hair. 
Economical,  lasting — does  not  wash  out.  Just  brush 
or  comb  it  in.  One  tinting  imparts  desired  shade. 
Simply  retouch,  as  new  gray  appears.  Easy  to  prove 
on  a  test  lock  of  your  hair.  First  application  must 
satisfy  you  or  money  back.  75c  and  $1.75 — all  drug- 
gists. Retain  youthful  charm.  Get  Brownatone  now. 


R 

I 

105 


RUED 


838  SIXTH  AVE.,  N.Y.  1,N.V. 


way  gadabout 


ONLY 


106 


#961 — A  complete  wardrobe  in  one  versatile 
suit.. .wear  it  jauntily  carefree  without  a 
belt,  belted  all  the  way  around,  belted  in 
front,  and  take  advantage  of  the  skirt  and 
topper  separately,  too . . .  wear  your  favorite 
blouses  and  sweaters  With  the  skirt— toss  the 
full  flaring  topper  over  your  dresses  and 
solid  skirts.  It's  all  possible  because  the  fabric  is 
a  wool-like  rayon  men's  wear  worsted 
in  a  subtle  Monotone  plaid  that  goes  with 
everything.  Added  features  are  the 
roomy  patch  pockets,  the  smart  turn-back  cuffs, 
the  fine  leather  belt,  the  self  covered 
buttons,  and  the  long,,  pencil-slim  skirt, 
which  is  destined  to  be  THE  silhouette 
for  fall.  GREY  or  BEIGE  Monotone  plaid  in 
sizes  12-14-16-18-20. 


SEIDEL  ADVERTISING  AGENCY,  INC 


You  use. lipstick,  of  course — and  for  that  very  reason  your 
eyes  need  added  allure.  Perhaps  you've  never  realized  (until 
just  this  moment)  that  neglected  eyes  appear  pale  and 
drab  in  contrast  with  made-up  lips.  Now  see  how  easily 
Maybelline  glorifies   the   eyes   and    restores   color   balance. 

With  a  few  simple  brush  strokes  of  Maybelline  Mascara, 
lashes  look  naturally  darker,   longer  and   more  luxuriant. 
The  soft,  smooth   Maybelline   Eyebrow   Pencil   accents 
brows  gracefully,  making  them  much  more  expressive. 

What  a  thrilling  difference!  With  completely  flattering 
make-up,  your  entire  face  radiates  charm!  So  never 
neglect  to  accent  your  eyes.  Add  Maybelline  to  your 
beautv  routine  and  look  your  loveliest  always. 


MAYBELLINE 
CAKE  MASCARA 
in  heautiful  gold-tone 
metal  vanity,  $1.  Re- 
fills, 50c.  Black, 
Brown,  Blue.  (Also 
in  25c  and   10c  sizes.) 


MAYBELLINE 
CREAM  MASCARA 
(applied  without 
water)  comes  in  handy 
leatherette  case,  $1 
(Also  in  25c  and  10c 
sizes.)  Shades:  Black, 
Brown,  Blue. 


MAYBELLINE  EYE- 
BROW PENCIL,  soft, 
smooth  quality,  fine  spoint — 
so  easy  to  use!  Purse  size.  10c. 
Professional  size,  25c.  Black, 
Dark  Brown  and  Light  Brown. 


MAYBELLINE  EYE 
SHADOW  in  subtle 
shades:  Blue,  Brown,  Blue- 
gray,  Green,  Violet,  Gray. 


WORLDS      FAVORITE      EYE     MAKE-UP 


NOTED  INTERIOR  DECORATOR 


AGREES:  "IN  DECORATING.A  ROOM  . 
AND  IN  CHOOSING  A  CIGARETTE  .  . 


1 


EXPERIENCE  IS  THE  BEST  TEACHER 

"J  tried  one  brand  after  another  until  I  found  the 
cigarette  that  suits  me  best— Camel,"  says  Miss  Kahane. 


I" 


•  She's  decorated  Park 
Avenue  penthouses  .  .  . 
country  kitchens  .  .  . 
ranch  houses  in  Texas. 
Here  at  the  right  you 
see  talented,  charming 
Melanie  Kahane' in  her 
own  Manhattan  apart- 
ment .  .  .  enjoying  her 
favorite  cigarette  — 
cool,  mild  Camels. 


I 


/ 


T  for  Taste... 
T  for  Throat... 

that's  your  proving 
ground  for  any  ciga- 
rette. See  if  Camels 

don't  suit  your 
"T-Zone"  to  a  "T." 


i 


•  With  Melanie  Kahane— with  millions  of  other  smokers 
who  have  tried  and  compared  different  brands  of  ciga- 
rettes—Camels are  the  "choice  of  experience"! 

Try  Camels.  Compare  them  in  your  "T-Zone"— T  for 
Taste  and  T  for  Throat— your  own  proving  ground  for 
any  cigarette.  Let  your  taste  tell  you  about  Camel's 
famous  flavor.  Let  your  throat  tell  you  about  Camel's 
marvelous  mildness.  Let  your  own  experience  tell  you 
why  more  people  are  smoking  Camels  than  ever  before! 

According  to  a  Nationwide  survey: 

MORE  DOCTORS   SMOKE  CAMELS 
THAN  ANY  OTHER  CIGARETTE 


When    113,597  doctors  from  coast   to  coast — iu  every   field  of  medicine — were  asked    by   three  independent 
research  organizations  to  name  the  cigarette  they  smoked,  more  doctors  named  Camel  than  any  other  brand! 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


JlIVJD  TELEVISION 


NOVEMBER  •  25c 


■HSU 


Blondie — My  Favorite  Mother — page  40 


Dagwood's  House  of  Happiness — page  42 


Come  and  visit  ART  LINK  LET  lE  R 


YOUNG  WIDDER  BROWN , 


n  pictures 


A  Lovelier  Skin  is  yours  with 

your  First  Cake  of  Camay! 


You're  as  lovely  as  your  complexion! 
And  your  skin  can  grow  in  loveliness  with 
your  first  cake  of  Camay.  Do  this! 
Give  up  careless  cleansing— go  on  the 
Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet.  Doctors  tested  Camay 
care  on  scores  of  women  — found  most 
complexions  grew  softer  and  smoother  with 
just  one  cake  of  Camay!  Follow  the  directions 
on  the  wrapper  for  a  really  lovelier  skin! 


MEET  MR.  AND  MRS.  GAVERT! 

Paul  proposed  in  a  tiny  New  York  restau- 
rant. No  wonder!  Christine's  lovely  com- 
plexion calls  for  love!  "My  very  first  cake 
of  Camay  led  to  a  lovelier  skin,"  says  she. 


The  Gaverts  have  lots  of  mutual  interests  be- 
sides music.  And  Paul  takes  a  special  in- 
terest in  Christine's  complexion.  She'll 
stay  on  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet! 


THE   SOAP   OF  BEAUTIFUL  WOMEN 


MRS.  PAUL  A.  GAVERT 
the  former  Chrittine  Lindseth   of  Grand  Rapids,  Mich, 
bridal  portrait  painted  by 


Heepcjour  hmxk  ei/etv'ng-soft  all  cku  Ioiip'/a 


~]his-  fabulous  lotion  if  double-beaatu  mdPie 
here ...  ^  as  well  as  here. . .  §f 


t  tard-at-work  and  "on  display, 
•*-  ■*■  hands  lead  a  double  life.  So- 


your 
-pamper 

them  with  the  double-beauty  magic  of 
Trushay. 

Trushay,  you  see,  is  first  of  all  a  velvet- 
soft  lotion — with  a  wondrous  touch  you've 
never  known  before.  A  luxury  lotion  for 


all  your  lotion  needs — a  joy  to  use  any 
time.  Every  fragrant,  peach-colored  drop 
is  so  rich,  your  hands  feel  softer  and 
smoother  instantly! 

Yet .  .  .  Trushay's  magic  doesn't  stop 
there.  It  also  brings  to  you  a  fabulous 
"beforehand"  extra! 


Smoothed  on  your  hands  before  doing 
dishes  or  light  laundry,  Trushay  protects 
them  even  in  hot,  soapy  water.  Guards 
them  from  drying  damage.  So  your  hands 
stay  evening-soft  all  day  long! 

Adopt  Trushay's  double-beauty  help — ■ 
begin  today  to  use  Trushay! 


TRUSHAY 


the  lotion  with  the  "beforehand" extra 


nornici  op  i>.iioi»il«l  *W»--    ,B_ 


<**# 


NOVEMBER,  1948 


VOL.  30,  NO.  6 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AND  TELEVISION 


KEYSTONE 


"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 


MTER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


Alwayn  ate  COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

offer  you  eat  and  before  every  date 


Radio  Mirror  Awards  for  1948. 


26 


Behind  My  True  Story 22 

Grand  Central  Station ' 25 

Our  Boss,  Joe  Kelly by  Rinny  Templeton  and  Joel  Kupperman  28 

My  Friend,  Irma by  Marie  Wilson  30 

Curtain  At  Nine by  William  Keighley  32 

Your  Ticket  To  The  Jack  Benny  Show 34 

Young  Widder  Brown — Through  The  Years  In  Pictures 36 

Blondie — My  Favorite  Mother by  Dorothy  Grace  Sparks  40 

Dagwood's  House  Of  Happiness by  Arthur  Lake  42 

Traveler  Of  The  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  50 

Come  And  Visit  Art  Linkletter by  Polly  Townsend  52 

Bachelor  Girl  In  Hollywood by  Pauline  Swanson  54 


Facing  The  Music by  Duke  Ellington  10 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  12 

What's  New  From  Coast  To  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Collector's  Corner by  Sarah  Yaughan  19 

Inside  Radio 66 


It's    Here 


69 


Information    Booth 82 


Head  Start by  Mary  Jane  Fulton 

Between  The  Bookends by  Ted  Malone 

It  Might  As  Well  Be  Pretty by  Kate  Smith 

Mother  Of  The  Year by  Terry  Burton 

Life   Can   Be   Beautiful 


Coast  To  Coast  In  Television. 
WJZ-TV   Lights    Up 


6 

44 
60 
70 
80 


46 
48 


WTOP:  Jokes  Set  To  Music 4 

WIBG:  No  News  Is  .  .  .  ?   ?   ? 8 

KDKA:   King  Of  KDKA 16 

WBEN:    Ross   Weller,   Enthusiast   Extraordinary 20 

WNBT:   Howdy   Doody's   Daddy 58 


The  Light  In  The  Window — A  Guiding  Light  Novelette 

by  Helen  Christy  Harris    62 

ON   THE    COVER:    Penny    Singleton    and    Arthur    Lake   as    The    Bumsteds; 
color  portrait  by  Ozzie  Sweet 


Editorial  Director 
FRED  B.  SAMMIS 


Editor 
DORIS    McFERRAN 


Art  Director 
JACK   ZASORIN 


Managing  Editor 
EVELYN  L.  FIORE 

Television 
JOAN  MURPHY  LLOYD 


Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES  MALT 


Research 
TERC  GOTO 


Chicago  Office:  Editor,  HELEN  CAMBRIA  BOLSTAD 
Hollywood  Office:  Editor,  ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,  FRANCES  MORRIN 

Staff  Photographers,    IIYMIE   FINK,   STERLING   SMITH         Assistant,  BETTY  JO   RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  by  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS,  INC.,  New  York,  N.  V. 
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Office:    224  North  La  Salle  St.,   Leslie   It.    Cage.   Mer.    San   Francisco  Office:    1013  Russ    Hulldlng,   Jusepn    M.    Dooher, 

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address.  Contributors  arc  especially  advised  to  be  sure  to  retain  copies  of  their  contributions;  otherwise  they 
are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contentH  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  In  part  without 
permission. 

(Member  of   Macfadden   Women's   Group) 

Copyright,   1V48,  by  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.  All  rights  reserved  under  International  Copvryrht  Convention.  All 

rlghtH  reserved   under  Pan-American   Copyright  Convention.      Todos  dcrechos  reservados  segun  La  Convenclon  Pan- 

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Printed  In  V.   S.   A.  by  Art  Color  Printing  Co..  Dunellen,  N.  J. 


^cwiina  tAewl  tAic^h 


THAT  seal  at  the  head  of  the  column  is 
there  to  remind  you  that  it's  not  all  over 
yet!  You've  voted,  this  month,  for  your 
favorite  radio  personalities;  next  month 
comes  your  chance  to  vote  for  your  favorite 
programs.  Don't  lie  down  on  the  job  of 
telling  radio  what  you  think  of  it — it's  im- 
portant to  the  industry  to  know  what  you 
expect  of  it,  and  it's  vital  to  you  if  you 
want  to  get  real  entertainment  from  your 
radio  set!  As  soon  as  you  get  your  Decem- 
ber Radio  Mirror,  fill  in  that  ballot,  cut  it 
out,  and  send  it  in. 


If  you're  a  Duffy's  Tavern  customer — as 
who  isn't — there's  a  big  surprise  waiting 
for  you  when  we  visit  Ed  Gardner.  The  man 
who  holds  down  the  Tavern  has  a  -family 
life  of  his  own  that  you'd  never  expect. 
From  the  beautiful  color  portraits  of  his 
French  wife  and  his  two  delightful  sons 
right  down  to  the  stories  of  the  dogs  in  his 
life,  this  visit  with  Ed  Gardner  is  one  you'll 
never  forget. 


To  Candy  Bergen,  who's  very,  very  young, 
Charlie  McCarthy  and  Mortimer  Snerd 
are  dear  old  friends.  That's  all  very  well 
for  now,  but — as  you'll  learn  from  Frances 
(Mrs.  Edgar)  Bergen's  lively  story  about 
"EB  and  the  Boys,"  there's  a  problem 
coming  up.  What  are  they  going  to  tell 
Candy  when  she  gets  a  little  older  and 
wants  to  know  why  her  playmates  have 
wooden  heads?  In  fact,  Frances  herself  is 
sometimes  a  little  confused — but  not  too 
confused  to  realize  that  never  was  a  fam- 
ily more  fun  than  the  one  that  came  with 
Edgar. 

ifi  *  * 

Other  features  stud  the  December  issue 
like  gems — a  color  spread  on  Don  McNeill's 
Breakfast  Club;  a  unique  side-glance  at 
Drew  Pearson  by  a  man  who  knows  him 
really  well;  a  double-barreled  chat  with 
Margaret  and  Barbara  Whiting.  For  those 
of  you  who  are  old  friends  of  David 
Harum,  a  special  treat — a  backward 
glance,  in  pictures,  over  David  Harum's 
story  from  the  time  Aunt  Polly  came  to 
live  with  him.  And  once  again — remember 
the  Awards  ballot,  in  December  Radio 
Mirror,  on  sale  November   10. 


Now!  Keep  your  hands 
as  kissable  as  your  lips. ..with  new 
Woodbury  Lotion 

It's   Beauty-Blended  .  .  , 
Actually   2-lotions-in-l 

1.  A  softening  lotionl  Helps  bring  your  hands 
adorable  new  softness.  Beauty-blended  with  luxury 
lanolin  and  other  costlier-than-usual  skin 
smoothers. 

2.  A  protective  lotion,  too!  This  same  Woodbury 
beauty-blend  helps  "glove"  your  hands  against 
roughening,  reddening  wind  and  cold,  the  drying 
effect  of  soap  and  water. 

At  drug  and  cosmetic  counters,  1 5c,  29c,  49c  plus  tax 

MADE    BY   THE   MAKERS   OF   FAMOUS   WOODBURY  FACIAL   SOAP  AND  OTHER    AIDS  TO  LOVELINESS 


SET  TO 


When  a  WTOP  comedian  tells  a  joke,  Johnny's  piano 
sneaks     in,     titters,     chuckles  and     finally     guffaws. 


DOES  a  joke  have  a  melody? 
Johnny  Salb  says  yes.    And  he  proves  it,  to  the 
delight  of  Washington,  D.  C,  listeners,  on  his  various 
appearances  on  WTOP  broadcasts. 

When  a  WTOP  artist  begins  a  joke,  Salb's  piano  sneaks 
in  behind  with  a  gentle  riffle.  As  the  pay-off  line  nears, 
the  piano  chuckles.  At  the  funny  ending,  the  piano 
laughs  merrily.  It's  all  the  marvelous  touch  of  Johnny 
Salb,  who  finds  melody  in  jokes. 

"Every  joke  needs  different  music,  different  timing," 
Salb  says.  "Some  are  simple  and  outright.  Others  take 
a  subtle  combination.  Most  jokes  about  farms,  by  the 
way,  are  in  the  key  of  C,  but  don't  ask  me  why.  I  just 
feel  it  that  way." 

Handsome,  gray-haired  Johnny  is  piano  player  to 
U.  S.  Presidents;  song  writer;  and  as  much  a  part  of 
WTOP  as  the  studios  themselves.  For  16  years  he  has 
been  musical  mainstay  of  Columbia's  50,000  watt  outlet 
in  the  nation's  capital. 

He  was  a  partner  of  Arthur  Godfrey  when  that  un- 
predictable "man  with  the  barefoot  voice"  was  getting 
his  start  at  WTOP.  From  1932  to  1946  Johnny  and 
Arthur  clowned  together  on  the  air. 

A  native  of  Washington,  Johnny  has  been  composer, 
arranger,  band  leader,  and  featured  radio  pianist  and 
organist.  Local  musicians  will  tell  you  that  nobody  can 
ad-lib  those  heart-felt  musical  bridges  during  dramas 
as  well  as  organist  Salb. 

At  a  recent  WTOP  studio  party  an  actor  began  to 
ad-lib  a  burlesque  on  a  daytime  serial,  taking  all  the 
parts  himself.  Johnny  quietly  moved  to  the  studio 
Hammond  organ  and  began  to  supply  musical  interludes 
and    background    mood    music. 

Not  a  line  or  a  note  had  been  planned,  but  the  act 
kept  the  whole  staff  of  sophisticated  radio  people  laugh- 
ing for  fifteen  minutes.  Salb's  intimate  "feel"  for  the 
hilarious  story  as  it  developed  brought  forth  growling, 


"Every  joke  needs  different  music,  different  timing,"  says 
Johnny  Salb,  right.  "Most  farm  jokes  are  in  the  key  of  C." 


sobbing,  wailing,  and  laughing  music  just  as  though  the 
whole  thing  had  been  rehearsed  for  days. 

As  one  might  expect,  Salb  is  also  a  song  writer.  His 
latest  is  "Why  Do  I  Keep  On  Dreaming."  He  has  had 
six  songs  published  within  five  years.  He  got  a  good 
start  in  this  work — years  ago  when  he  was  starting 
musical  composition  and  arranging  he  was  helped  by  a 
man  named  Victor  Herbert. 

Johnny  is  no  stranger  at  the  White  House.  He  has 
played  at  1600  Pennsylvania  Avenue  for  five  presidents: 
Wilson,  Harding,  Coolidge,  Hoover,  and  Roosevelt. 

Off-mike,  Johnny  loves  to  fish,  play  poker,  and  watch 
the  horses  run.  A  former  baseball  player,  he  was  the 
first  man  in  organized  baseball  to  score  two  home  runs 
in  one  inning. 


3, 


't  is  the  party  of  the  year  .  .  .  her 
night-of-nights.  Down  below  are  dozens 
of  girls  who  will  envy  her  looks  .  .  . 
dozens  of  men  who  will  cut  in  endlessly 
.  .  .  and  one  in  particular  who  will  press 
her  close  when  the  lights  are  low  and 
whisker  Darling!  .  .  .  So  she  thinks. 
Unfortunately,  it  isn  t  going  to  be  that 
way.    1  here  s  a  fly  in  the  ointment  as  big 

as  a  blackbird.  Instead  of  eagerness  and  attention  she  will 
meet  indifference  and  neglect.  Tonight  will  be  one  of  the 
grimmest  nights  of  her  life  .  .  .  one  tbat  it  will  take  a  long 
time  to  live  down.  And  she  won  t  know  why    ! 

All  too  often  it  happens  that  way;  on  the  very  nigbt 
you  wish  to  be  at  your  best  you  may  be  at  your  worst 
without  realizing   it.    Unfortunately,   halitosis     (unpleasant 


breath)    doesn  t    always    announce    itself 
to    the    victim,    but   it   invariably   shouts 
its  presence  to  others.     I  hey   are   likely 
to  hold  it  against  you  for  a  long  time  .  .  . 
look  on  you  as  an  objectionable  person. 
Isn't  it   ioolish  to   risk   putting   your- 
self   in    the    worst    possible    ligbt    when 
Listerine     Antiseptic    is    such    an    easy, 
cjuick   and   wholly   delightful    precaution 
against  simple,  non-systemic  bad  breath?    1  on   merely  rinse 
your  mouth  with  it  and  instantly  your  breath   becomes 
sweeter,  fresher,  less  likely  to  onend. 

So  .  .  .  when  you  want  to  be  at  your  best,  never,  never 
omit  Listerine  Antiseptic  belore  any  date  ...  it  s  an  extra- 
careful  precaution  against  offending. 

Lambert  Pharmacal  Company,  St  Louis,  Missouri 


1 99 


You  can 

say  "yes 

to  Romance 


Veto  says  "no" 
to  Offending! 

Veto   says   "no"-  to  perspiration 

worry  and  odor!  Soft  as  a  caress  . . . 
exciting,  new,  Veto  is  Colgate's  wonderful 
cosmetic  deodorant.  Always  creamy  and 
smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you 
lovely  all  day!  Veto  stops  underarm  odor 
instantly,  checks  perspiration  effectively. 

Veto  says  "no"-  to  harming  skin 
and  clothes!  So  effective  ..  .yet  so 
gentle — Colgate's  Veto  is  harmless  to  nor- 
mal skin.  Harmless,  too,  even  to  filmy, 
most  fragile  fabrics.  For  Veto  alone  con- 
tains Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredi- 
ent to  make  Veto  safer.  No  other  deodorant 
can  be  like  Veto! 


Tit VS T  ALWAYS 

TO  VETO 
IF  VOV  VALVE 
YOUR  CUARlUt 


« 


~ 


i 


By 

Mary  Jane  Fulton 


vf&iwe  /Ae  courage  ^al/t/een  ^okdel/  Aatf,  cmd 
c/tange  fo  a  item  /tafodo  &e  mcw,  foe,  wi//  /coJc  fowe/tek 


FALL  hair  styles  are  very  much  in 
the  news.  But  Albert  Attermeyer, 
noted  New  York  hairstylist,  prefers 
not  to  refer  to  them  as  "The  New  Look" 
coiffures.  That  expression  has  been 
popular  in  every  phase  of  fashion  for 
a  year  now,  and  he  thinks  you  may  be 
as  tired  of  hearing  it  as  he  is.  It  has 
had  many  interpretations.  But  orig- 
inally it  meant  short  hair  arranged 
toward  the  face  and  over  the  ears.  How- 
ever, along  with  other  hairstylists,  Al- 
bert believes,  and  rightly  so,  that  any 
fashion  is  only  becoming  when  it's 
styled  to  the  individual.  With  this  opin- 
ion one  of  his  steady  customers,  Cath- 
leen  Cordell,  heartily  agrees. 

Cathleen  appears  on  countless  radio 
programs,  among  them  Studio  One, 
Christopher  Welles,  Grand  Central 
Station,  and  Mr.  Keen.  Daily,  she  plays 
Marion  Burton  on  CBS's  the  Second 
Mrs.  Burton  program. 

In  creating  this  pretty  coiffure  for 
Cathleen,  Albert  shaped  and  thinned 
her  hair,  shampooed  it,  and  then  gave 
it  a  permanent.  Her  hair  was  in  good 
condition,  so  it  did  not  need  special 
treatment.  However,  if  yours  needs  ex- 
tra attention  to  get  it  back  to  its  right- 
ful beauty,  and  to  keep  it  beautiful, 
brush  it  twice  daily  with  a  clean,  stiff- 
bristled  brush.  Massage  your  scalp  with 
your  fingertips.  Shampoo  your  hair 
often.  After  rinsing  the  suds  out  of  it 
with  warm  water,  give  it  a  final  cold 
rinse  to  close  the  pores  and  stimulate 
scalp    circulation.    Then    use    a    cream 


rinse,  or  if  it's  sun-streaked,  a  tint- 
rinse  to  help  cover  up  any  discoloration 
and  to  bring  out  the  highlights. 

In  setting  Cathleen's  hair,  Albert  ar- 
ranged the  first  forehead  wave  to  ac- 
cent her  interesting  "Widow's  Peak." 
When  dry,  this  first  wave  was  combed 
up  to  give  height  to  her  face.  The  wave 
is  on  a  slant,  and  barely  touches  her 
right  temple.  The  very  short  part  is 
over  her  left  temple,  and  camouflaged 
or  partly  covered  with  one  loose, 
brushed  out  curl.  On  both  sides  the 
ends  have  been  brushed  over  the  finger 
so  that  there  is  a  completely  broken 
circle  of  loose  and  casual  looking  short 
curls.  Her  over-all  coiffure  combines 
with  her  face  outline,  and  the  brushed 
out  "curl  puffs"  fall  softly  and  becom- 
ingly, and  do  not  conform  to  a  rigid 
pattern.  If  your  face  is  inclined  to  be 
round,  too,  style  it  high  in  front  as 
Albert  has  done  Cathleen's,  and  let 
your  hair  caress  your  face  on  both 
sides. 

In  the  back,  Cathleen's  hair  is  shaped 
in  a  simple,  sleek,  cap-fitting  crown. 
The  hairline  at  the  back  fits  into  the 
sides  with  the  same  loose,  brushed  out 
curl  arrangement.  Hair  that's  been 
shaped  and  thinned  out,  Albert  says, 
does  not  drag  the  curls  down  by  its 
weight. 

Although  he  fashioned  this  particu- 
lar hairdo  for  Cathleen,  not  being  an 
extreme  style,  many  of  you  should  be 
able  to  wear  it  becomingly.  And  it  has 
a  newer  look  than  the  old  "new  look." 


RADIO  MIRROR  for  BETTER  LIVING 


j 


says  AVA  GARDNER.: 


uy  Powder  wins  with  me^- 
fhe  smoothest;  satiny  finish  my  skin  has  ever  known/ 


AVA  GARDNER,  co-starred  In 
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's  "The  Bribe", 

is  one  of  the  many  Hollywood  beauties 
who  chose  New  Woodbury  Powder. 


ioda/ — 

see  the  Pramatic  'PifPerence  on  your  skin  I 

See  for  yourself  that  New  Woodbury  Powder 
gives  a  smooth-as-satin  finish  to  skin  ( a  finish 
never  possible  with  powder  alone  before! ) . . . 
see  that  Woodbury  covers  tiny  blemishes 
amazingly.,  .yet  gives  the  natural  'un- 
powdery'  look  that  you  and  Hollywood  adore! 

See  that  the  colors  are  warmer,  lovelier, 
livelier!  Truly,  New  Woodbury  is  the  world's 
finest  face  powder! 


l**gi 


In  dramatic 
Nation-Wide  Test 

WOODBURY 
WINS  4  T0 1 

over  all  leading 
brands  of  powder 


In  the  most  extraordinary  beauty  test 
ever  made,  women  from  Coast 
to  Coast  voted  their  overwhelming 
preference  for  New  Woodbury 
Powder.  They  chose  Woodbunj  over 
their  own  favorite  brands  of 
powder!  Actually,  Woodbury  won 
on  an  average  of  4  to  1  over  all 
other  leading  brands.  And  women 
said  Woodbury  was  better  for 
every  beauty  quality! 


-? 


,\\*s 


vde* 


ss-**r 


v^ 


6  exciting  Shades!     Get  New 

Woodbury  Powder— in  the  new  "Venus" 
box— at  any  cosmetic  counter.  Large 
size  $1.00.  Medium  and  "Purse"  sizes 
30tf  and  15c.  (Prices  plus  tax) 


NO  NEWS 


is 


•  •  • 


?  ?  ? 


Good  news  to  Ray  Walton 

are  the  dispatches  coming  in 

through    the   UP   teletype 

for  the  Newsreel  of  the  Air. 


NO  NEWS  is  bad  news  to  Ray  Walton  and  Tom  Moore  of 
WIBG  in  Philadelphia,  and  with  good  reason.  Six  nights 
a  week,  from  eleven  to  midnight,  they're  on  the  air  for 
Greystone  Wines  with  a  full  hour  of  news. 

Starting  with  a  quarter  hour  of  World  and  National  events, 
they  follow  that  with  a  15-minute  period  of  local  news,  15 
minutes  of  sports,  and  a  resume  of  the  day's  news  highlights. 

National  and  world  news  is  invariably  plentiful,  making 
the  first  15  minutes  of  the  show  the  easiest  to  compile.  From 
time  to  time  a  dearth -of  local  news  has  Walton,  who  does  the 
editing,  calling  Reading,  Atlantic  City  and  Harrisburg  (all 
in  an  area  of  interest  to  WIBG's  listeners)  for  additional  news. 

During  the  baseball  season,  when  an  occasional  rainout 
across  the  country  cancels  out  the  major  league  ball  games, 
as  well  as  outdoor  midget  racing  and  boxing  bouts,  the  sports 
section  of  the  program  becomes  a  problem. 

Along  with  straight  news,  the  program  frequently  features 
material  recorded  during  special  events  which  take  place  in 
Philadelphia  during  the  day.  Presidential  addresses,  regard- 
less of  where  they  are  made,  are  always  rebroadcast  on  the 
Newsreel. 

During  the  National  Conventions  in  Philadelphia  last 
summer,  Tom  Moore  spent  all  his  time  at  Convention  Hall, 
recording  every  session  of  the  meetings,  and  then,  cut  and 
condensed  that  material  to  give  Newsreel  listeners  a  capsule 
story  of  each  day's  important  speeches  and  features. 

The  newscasters  themselves  are  both  War  veterans.  Walton 
was  a  cadre-man  on  the  big  guns  at  Ft.  Sill,  Oklahoma 
throughout  the  war,  while  Moore  received  the  DFC  and  the 
Air  Medal  for  bombardier  work  over  Germany. 

Walton  and  Moore  are  both  married  and  each  is  the  father 
of  two  children.  There  the  similarity  in  their  careers  and 
characters  stops. 

Walton,  before  coming  into  radio,  was  a  musician  and  still 
can  do  a  good  job  with  an  organ,  piano  or  accordion.  He  has 
never,  however,  in  his  five  years  there,  done  a  musical  stint 
on  WIBG.  His  hobbies  are  music  and  traveling  to  any  portion 
of  the  state  in  which  the  bass  are  biting. 

Moore  began  his  radio  career,  while  still  in  high  school, 
doing  school  broadcasts  for  WIBG,  and  upon  graduation, 
taking  a  full-time  announcer's  slot  there.  His  entire  radio 
career  has  been  with  WIBG,  except  for  some  recruiting  pro- 
grams he  did  for  the  Army  while  in  service. 

Flying,  which  he  learned  while  in  service,  has  become  his 
hobby  since  returning  to  civilian  life.  It  has  served  him  well, 
for  he  has  been  able  to  use  it  to  cover  news  events  from  the 
air.  Moore  never  buys  a  newspaper  while  Walton  says  he  does, 
but  for  only  one  reason.  He's  "just  gotta  see  what  Terry  and 
the  Pirates  are  doing." 


Who  says  working  for  a  living  can't  be  fun?  Not  Tom 
Moore,  WIBG's  roving  reporter  for  the  Newsreel  of 
the  Air,  here  shown  interviewing  lovely  Irene  Dunne. 


Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


Do  you  open  bobby  pins 
with  — 

□  Your  Fingernails 

□  Your  froni  ieeth 

□  Your  left  thumb 

Why  fight  "bobbies"  tooth  and  nail?  Either 
approach  wrecks  enamel.  Instead,  hold  curl 
with  left  fingers,  bringing  up  pin  with  right 
hand.  Open  pin  with  ball  of  left  thumb; 
keep  apart  with  flesh  of  right  finger  .  .  .  the 
rest  is  easy.  And  by  the  way,  why  don't  you 
rest  easy,  concerning  certain  stubborn  wor- 
ries? Let  Kotex  rout  those  poise-wreckers! 
—  with  the  extra  protection  you  get  with 
Kotex'  exclusive  safety  center.  It's  accident 
insurance ! 


Which  improves 
outsize  ankles? 

n    Massage 

□  Spike  heels 

□  Roller  skating 

What  with  longer  skirts,  all  eyes  are  riveted 
to  your  ankles!  Got  "steinway"  stems? 
Try  this.  First,  cream  hands  and  ankles. 
Grasp  instep  firmly;  rub  up  above  ankle, 
lifting  hand  between  strokes.  Faithful 
massage  helps  relieve  congestion— improve 
circulation  (and  ankles,  in  time).  However, 
it  takes  no  time  at  all  to  have  the  napkin 
size  you  want.  Quickly  as  you  can  say 
"Kotex"— you  can  choose  from  those  3 
Kotex   sizes:    find   the    very    one    for   you. 


When  a  gal's  not  "one  of  the  gang"— why? 

□   She's  shy  □    She's  a  glow  worm  □    She's  a  vacuum  cleaner 


Shyness  is  only  one  reason  why  a  cutie's 
out  of  the  fun.  She  may  be  a  glow  worm 
(self-centered).  Or  a  vacuum  cleaner  (picks 
up  all  the  dirt).  Any  answer  above  can  be 
right.  The  cure?  More  interests!  Learn  to 
get  along  with  others.  Good  way's  to  join 


a  dramatic  club.  Be  a  good  trouper,  what- 
ever the  day  — for  Kotex  is  made  to  stay 
soft  while  you  wear  it.  Yes,  new  Kotex  has 
wonder-softness  that  holds  its  shape.  Come 
hours  of  rehearsals  — you're  chafe-free! 
You're  comfortable! 


Afore  ivo/ne/?  c/?oose  /COTEX 
f/jan  a//  other  san/fary  na/?6/hs 


If  he's  your  guest, 
what  about  tickets? 

□  Buy  them  at  the  door 

□  Buy  fhem  in  advance 

□  The  boy  should  buy  them 

Could  be  he  goes  to  a  different  school;  or 
lives  in  another  town.  In  any  case,  when 
gal  invites  guy,  the  shindig  tickets  are  her 
problem.  Buy  and  hand  'em  over  in  ad- 
vance. Don't  fluster  him  by  fumbling  at 
the  door.  There's  a  way  you  can  stay  un- 
flustered  .  .  .  even  though  your  calendar 
defies  you.  It's  simply  a  matter  of  choosing 
Kotex,  knowing  those  flat  pressed  ends 
prevent  revealing  outlines.  So,  relax.  And 
skylark  through  the  dance  in  confidence! 


Why  does 

a  gal  buy  2 

sanitary  belts  ? 


D   For  extra  security 

D    For  that  "bandbox  feeling" 

O   One  belt's  for  her  sister 

Next  time  you're  dressing  for 
a  date -donning  fresh  undies, 
a  charming  frock -you'll  want 
a  change  of  sanitary  belts.  Yes, 
for  jhat  crisp,  "bandbox  feel- 
ing" you  need  two  Kotex  Sani- 
tary Belts,  for  a  change. 

You  know,  the  Kotex  Belt  is 
made  to  lie  flat,  without  twist- 
ing or  curling.  And  because 
it's  adjustable,  all-elastic,  your 
Kotex  Belt  fits  smoothly 
doesn't  bind.  So -for  more 
comfort,  buy  the  new  Kotex 
Sanitary  Belt.  And  buy  two- 
for  a  change! 

Kotex 
Sanitary 

&  Buy  tWO- by  name! 


T.  M.  REO  .  U.  8.  PAT.  OFF. 


From   the  Jack   Smiths'  vacation  album:   a 


Horace  Heidi  will  never  have  to  force  1-year-old  Horace, 
Jr.,  to  practice  his  pieces!  Hildegarde,  who's  6,  looks  on. 


cma 

& 


10 


THAT  great  man  of  jazz,  Louis  "Satchmo" 
Armstrong,  seems  to  be  ready  to  make 
another  trans-Atlantic  trip  shortly.  Louis' 
group  did  so  well  in  France  earlier  this  year 
that  all  of  the  continent  is  begging  to  see  and 
hear  them  again. 

*  «         » 

Television  got  one  of  its  first  real  tastes  of 
be-bop  music  when  the  Original  Amateur  Hour 
on  WABD  presented  a  mechanic  from  Ho- 
boken,  New  Jersey,  who  almost  "stopped  the 
show."  Chet  Boswell,  the  amateur  singer,  was 
quoted  as  saying  that  be-bop  "Isn't  corn  like 
Dixieland — it's  long-hair  jazz!" 

*  *         * 

They  say  that  three  is  a  lucky  number  and 
it  appears  as  though  Lena  Home's  third  waxing 
for  MGM  will  hit  the  jackpot.  Her  rendition 
of  "Sometimes  I'm  Happy"  and  "Mad,  Mad, 
Mad"  is  exciting  enough  to  make  this  almost 
as  thrilling  as  listening  to  lovely  Lena  in  person 
at  Monte  Proser's  Copacabana  in  New  York, 
where  she  is  currently  breaking  the  records 
she  established  last  year. 

*  *         * 

Good  news  for  radio  fans  this  month  is  the 
return  of  Dinah  Shore  to  the  air  as  the  co-star 
of  the  Eddie  Cantor  show.  It  was  with  the 
ebullient  Cantor  that  Dinah  got  her  first  big 
break  years  ago  and  the  two  work  together 
as  smoothly  as  pancakes  and  syrup. 

*  *         * 

Young  maestro  Elliot  Lawrence  makes  his 
screen    debut    this    month    in  .  the    latest    of 


Before    dispersing    to    their   separate    rehearsals,    Red 
Skelton,  Allan  Jones,  Margaret  Whiting  chat  at  CBS. 


shot  of  perfect  summertime  ease  on  Catalina. 


Percy  Faith  with  Jane  Froman  on  CBS  Pause  That  Refreshes- 
Jane    without    crutches    for   tee    first    time    since    plane    crash. 


By 

DUKE 

ELLINGTON 

whose  disc  show  is 
heard  on  WOKO- 
Albauy,  WUSN- 
Charleston.  S.  C, 
WCMB-Lemoy«e,Pa. 


Columbia  Pictures'  "Thrills  Of  Music"  series. 
"Five  O'Clock  Shadow,"  the  number  which 
his  band  plays  in  this  film,  is  one  of  Elliot's 
original  compositions,  and  quite  a  bouncy  tune 
it  is. 


Few  sights  in  radio  today  are  as  thrilling  as 
that  of  spunky  Jane  Froman  standing,  un- 
aided, at  the  microphone  of  her  Sunday  eve 
Pause  That  Refreshes  program  (CBS). 


Hollywood  reports  that  one  of  the  biggest 
crowds  in  the  history  of  Gilmore  Stadium 
turned  out  for  the  annual  charity  baseball 
game  between  the  teams  captained  by  Frank 
Sinatra  and  Andy  Russell.  Many  of  filmdom's 
loveliest  ladies,  including  Jane  Russell,  were 
on  hand  to  participate  as  bat-boys,  umpires 
and  peanut  vendors — but  the  fellow  who  al- 
most stole  the  show  with  his  spectacular  work 
in  the  field  and  at  bat  was  Lionel  Hampton, 
stalwart  of  the  Sinatra  Swooners. 


If  you  sense  anything  strange  about  the 
Andrews  Sisters  since  their  return  to  Bob 
Crosby's  Club  15  (CBS,  7:30  P.M.  Mon.-Fri.) 
but  can't  quite  put  your  finger  on  it,  try 
listening  more  carefully  to  their  diction.  After 
a  month  in  England,  Patty,  Maxene  and 
Laverne  frequently  drop  their  "aitches"  while 
quipping  with  Bob,  and  more  than  once  throw 
a  "pip,  pip"  into  their  normally  groovy  patter. 


New  York's  welcome  to 
hour  was  written  on  a  e 


and  Dave  Bar- 
e  House  party. 


11 


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I 

M 

12 


News:  a  new  Benny  Goodman  release. 


By  Joe  Martin 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

JO  STAFFORD  (Capitol) — Superb  orchestral  backing  enhances  Miss  Stafford's  vocals 
on  "Baby,  Won't  You  Please  Come  Home"  and  "Trouble  In  Mind."  The  former  side  is 
the  old  standard  which  also  features  Nat  Cole  on  piano,  Ray  Linn  on  trumpet  and 
Herbie  Haymer  on  tenor  sax,  while  the  latter  side  is  a  fine  blues  tune. 

MARION  HUTTON  (MGM) — Marion  sings  a  couple  of  novelty  tunes  that  sound  as 
though  they  were  written  for  sister  Betty.  Replete  with  orchestral  backing,  calliope 
and  male  chorus,  "He  Says,  She  Says"  has  a  cute  lyric.  The  reverse,  "Borscht,"  done 
in  a  slow  bounce  tempo  is  fine  for  dancing. 

PHIL  GREEN  (London) — Some  Richard  Rodgers  music  that  hasn't  received  the 
attention  it  should  have  had  is  presented  by  the  Phil  Green  Orchestra  in  a  two-sided 
instrumental  version  of  "Slaughter  On  Tenth  Avenue,"  originally  written  as  dance 
scene  for  Ray  Bolger.  The  recurring  theme  would  make  for  a  fine  ballad. 

LENA  HORNE  '(MGM)— Lena  sings  "It's  Mad,  Mad,  Mad"  with  great  effectiveness  and 
feeling.  Our  preference,  however,  is  for  "Sometimes  I'm  Happy,"  the  Vincent  Youmans- 
Irving  Caeser  song.  Luther  Henderson  accompaniment  is  just  fine,  fine,  fine. 

ANNE  SHELTON-SAM  BROWNE  (London)— This  disc  will  certainly  dispel  any  doubts 
you  may  have  had  about  the  English  being  able  to  turn  out  "cornball"  music  in  American 
fashion.  It's  strictly  a  toss-up  whether  "The  Law  Is  Comin'  Fer  Ya  Paw"  or  "Say 
Something  Sweet  To  Your  Sweetheart"  will  be  the  big  hit  of  the  season. 

BENNY  GOODMAN  (Capitol) — Did  you  ever  stop  to  think  that  Benny  has  never  made 
a  bad  record?  Each  of  us  may  have  opinions  on  specific  BG  discs,  but  there  is  no 
variance  about  the  general  level  of  his  work.  Specifically,  we  think  you'll  like  both 
"Cherokee"  and  "Love  Is  Just  Around  The  Corner."  Featured  with  Benny  are  Red 
Norvo,  Don  Lamond  and  Harry  Babbison. 

LOUIS  PRIMA  (RCA  Victor) — Cathy  Allen  is  a  girl  singer  who  should  be  getting 
lots  more  attention  from  the  public.  Her  version  of  "Bubble-Loo  Bubble-Loo"  is 
second  only  to  Peggy  Lee's.  Cathy's  boss,  Louis  Prima,  has  a  version  of  "The  Sad  Cowboy" 
that  is  second  to  none. 

REV.  KELSEY  AND  LENA  PHILLIPS  (MGM)— The  Reverend  and  his  congregation 
have  recorded  two  portions  of  a  prayer  meeting  that  are  fine  down-to-earth  bits  of 
American  folkdom.   Miss  Phillips'  singing  of  "Lord  Send  The  Rain"  is  truly  interesting. 

DORIS  DAY  AND  BUDDY  CLARK  (Columbia)— This  combination  seems  to  have 
found  the  key  to  the  public's  heart.  Their  verson  of  "I'm  In  Love"  is  still  in  the 
bright  conversational  style  of  singing.  Doris  sings  "It's  You  Or  No  One"  all  by  her 
lonesome  on  the  reverse  side. 

JOHNNY  DESMOND  (Columbia)— It's  been  some  time  since  the  phrase  "G.  I.  Sinatra" 
has  been  tossed  about  and  we  haven't  been  hearing  enough  of  Johnny.  There  isn't  one 
single  reason  why  you  won't  like  "Bella  Bella  Marie"  and  "Lillette."  The  Dell  Trio 
supplies  the  backgrounds. 

DEE  PARKER  (Mercury) — An  instrumental  group  called  the  Miniatures  surrounds  Dee's 
warbling  with  much  nice  noise.  Dee  does  well,  too.  on  "My  Curly  Headed  Baby"  and 
"That's  The  Way  He  Does  It." 

ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

NURSERY  RHYMES  (Capitol) — Ken  Carson's  vocals  to  Billy  May's  music  are  combined 
to  make  one  of  the  best  of  the  recent  children's  sets.  Two  records  in  an  envelope  that 
also  serves  as  a  coloring  book  make  an  excellent  package  for  the  small  small-fry. 

LOUIS  ARMSTRONG  ALL  STARS  (RCA  Victor)— The  immortal  and  inimitable 
Satchmo  is  heard  at  some  of  his  most  recent  stylings  of  such  old  favorites  as  "Rockin' 
Chair"  and  "Pennies  From  Heaven."  Heavy  support  for  Louis  comes  from  Jack 
Teagarden,  and  Peanuts  Hucko,  Bobby  Hackett,  Bob  Haggert  and  George  Wettling  also 
shine.    This  one  is  specially  for  the  two-beat  enthusiasts. 


There  was  temptation 
in  her  helpless  silence 


mm 


&p* 


a 


ndtlaen 


totioa 


exit 


WHEREVER  motion  pictures  are  shown  "Johnny  Belinda" 
will  be  the  most  discussed  drama  this  year  — 
Never  has  the  screen  been  more  fearlessly  outspoken.  Rarely,  if 
ever,  has  there  been  a  story  of  a  young  girl's  betrayal  to  touch  you 
as  will  this  one.  You  certainly  will  want  to  see  it—  we  urge  you  to 
watch  for  the  opening  date. 


WARNER   BROS. 

present  a  daring  and  courageous  new  dramatic  achievement 

JANE  WYMAN  •  TEW  AYRES 

P^  With    t-hivL  nprfnrniflnrp  .Tnnp  WumaTl  ^™^  Thp  rlnrfnr  -first   tn  find   her  Kpn'or. 


With  this  performance  Jane  Wyman 

unquestionably  establishes  her  talent  as  among 

the  very  foremost  on  the  screen. 


The  doctor  first  to  find  her  secret, 
first  to  share  her  shame. 


<:<  y 


ohnny  Belinda" 


CHARLES  BICKFORD 


DIRECTED  BY 

AGNES  MOOREHEAD- STEPHEN  McNALLY- JEAN  NEGULESCO 

Sewn  Pl«  by  IRMGMtO  VON  CUBE  ind  ALLEN  VINCENT  •  From  lh«  Sum  PUi  br  Elmef  H«rrl«  •  PTrtucxl  or  Hinr  WijlUfI  Srittk 


PRODUCED  BY 

JERRY  WALD 

■•K  C7  MM  STElNtt 


13 


Spotlight  Revue's  summer  maestro,  Dick  Jurgens, 
(r.)  and  singer  Georgia  Gibbs,  start  Betty  Ann  Ber- 
esheim  and  Ted  Hubert,  Miami  teenagers,  on  week- 
end   in    New    York    as    Spotlight    Revue's    guests. 


From  Atlanta  came  winners  Margaret  Nelson  and 
Allan    Haller,    with    chaperone    Celestine    Sibley. 


I 

M 

14 


By 

DALE 
BANKS 


Memphis  winners  Earl  Cunningham  Jr.,  and  Martha 
Kenlcy  drew  actor  John  Lund  as  lunch  companion. 


New  York  al  their  feet:  the  Memphis  pair  again 


ALL  SUMMER  long  there  has  been  much 
coming  and  going  on  the  Spotlight  Revue, 
.  heard  Fridays  at  10:30  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS, 
as  the  weekly  Junior  Achievement  winners  came 
along  on  the  holiday  weekends  they'd  won.  In 
cooperation  with  civic  groups  all  over  the 
country,  the  Spotlight's  sponsors  worked  out  a 
contest  which  was  won,  each  week,  by  a  pair 
of  enterprising  teen-agers  on  the  basis  of  the 
community  work  they'd  been  doing.  Adequately 
chaperoned,  they  were  brought  here  from  their 
home  towns,  appeared  on  the  program  with 
Spotlight's  summertime  maestro,  Dick  Jurgens, 
lunched  at  Sardi's,  dined  at  the  Stork,  and  in 
general  had  the  kind  of  sight-seeing,  star-gazing 
weekend  New  York  is  famous  for.  On  these  two 
pages  you'll  meet  some  of  these  fortunate 
couples,  and  see  some  of  the  things  they  did. 
This  was  a  summer  at  Spotlight  Revue! 

*  *         * 

At  the  time  of  this  writing,  agents  and  agency 
people  are  bickering  and  dickering  over  the 
return  of  the  Johnny  Ma'dero  show.  Some  want 
Brian  Donlevy  for  the  lead  role,  others  want 
Jack  Webb,  who  originated  the  character,  to 
continue  in  the  part.  Personally,  we  hope  they 
make  up  their  collective  minds.  The  Johnny 
Madero  script  always  greatly  pleased  this  pair 
of  ears  and,  leave  us  face  it,  this  head,  too.  It 
was  a  sure  proof  that  there's  a  listening  audience 
for  adult  shows  and  that  people  can  follow 
dialogue  that's  not  corny  and  contains  a  few 

grown-up  ideas. 

*  *         * 

Penny  Singleton  (need  we  say  "Blondie"?) 
has  been  optioned  by  a  nationally-known  pub- 
lishing company  to  submit  a   book  of  recipes 


surveying  the  town  from  the  Empire  State  tower. 


titled  "Dagwood's  Favorite  Recipes."  And  we 
always  thought  those  monster  sandwiches  were 
a  gag  and  would  choke  anyone  who  tried  them! 

Congratulations  to  CBS  for  winning  Norman 
Corwin  back  into  the  ra-dio  fold  for  another  of 
his  series.  Rumor  had  it,  for  awhile  there,  that 
Corwin  was  forsaking  the  air  lanes  for  the 
lucrative  movie  world. 

*  g  4c 

In  case  you  haven't  spotted  it  yet,  a  new 
magazine  hits  the  stands  this  October.  It's  built 
around  the  radio  show,  Bride  and  Groom  and, 
at  this  writing,  is  titled  Happy  Marriage.  There's 
a  $50,000  prize  contest  connected  with  its  in- 
auguration. The  plans  are  to  have  about  one 
sixth  of  the  magazine  devoted  to  the  radio 
program  it's  built  around  and  the  rest  will 
carry  fiction  and  articles  of  interest  to  young 
homemakers. 

*  *         * 

Alan  Young  has  a  rather  unusual  contract 
with  the  Jimmy  Durante  show.  As  a  rule,  when 
you  are  signed  by  a  big  time  program  like  that, 
they  buy  your  exclusive  services.  Young's  con- 
tract gives  him  the  privilege  of  having  his  own 
show,  as  well. 

*  *         * 

We  hear  that  NBC  is  set  on  a  deal  with  Liberty 
Magazine  whereby  the  network  buys  the  video 
rights  to  stories  and  features  which  have  ap- 
peared in  the  magazine. 

*  *         * 

We  hear  that  Chet  Lauck  is  back  in  the  horse 
racing  game  again.  He'd  given  up  his  stables 
some  time  ago,  after  running  into  a  streak  of 
very  bad  luck.  But  the  urge  to  race  is  too 
strong,  now  Chet  has   (Continued  on  page  18) 


It  was  Chinatown  that  drew  Texas  winners  Floyd 
Eberhard  and  Delores  Douglas  on  their  weekend. 


Dorothea  Lensch  chaperones  Elaine  Humburg  and 
Richard  Hammond,  of  Portland.  Ore.,  on  Fifth  Ave. 


15 


King — Ed,  that  is — of  KDKA  triples  in  writing 
producing,  acting  and  supports  a  wife  as  well. 


At  the  end  of  the  day,  Ed  is 
usually  asleep  at  his  type- 
writer,  but   wife   Wendy,   for- 
mer Ft.  Wayne  newswoman,  just 

seems  to  go  on  and  on  and  on. 


TRIPLE-THREAT  man  at  KDKA,  Pittsburgh  Westinghouse  station, 
is  Ed  King — writer,  producer  and  actor. 
He  had  no  set  plan  for  his  future  when  he  finished  school  in  his 
native  La  Crosse,  Wisconsin,  but  he  did  have  a  flair  for  writing — a  flair 
which  first  got  him  interested  in  newspaper  work.  Radio  beckoned 
him  in  1937  when  he  took  a  job  at  WKBH  in  La  Crosse  as  a  continuity 
writer. 

But  the  attraction  of  the  newsroom  was  still  stronger  and  he  left 
WKBH  to  go  to  Chicago  as  a  free  lance  writer  and  later  as  a  reporter 
and  rewrite  man  on  the  Tribune.  Something  else  happened  in  Chicago, 
however — he  got  his  first  taste  of  big  time  radio  as  assistant  to  the 
production  manager  at  WGN. 

That  definitely  launched  him  on  a  radio  career  and  during  the  years 
before  World  War  II  he  gathered  experience  as  program  director  at 
WSJS,  Winston  Salem,  N.  C,  and  as  a  writer  and  production  man  at 
the  Westinghouse  station  in  Ft.  Wayne,  Indiana,  WO  WO. 

Uncle  Sam  called  him  and  he  went  off  to  the  wars  as  a  member  of 
the  Army  Air  Corps  Intelligence.  Shortly  after  he  won  a  discharge, 
King  joined  the  staff  of  KDKA  January  15,  1946. 

His  first  assignment  at  the  Pittsburgh  station  was  as  a  gag  man  and 
script  writer  for  the  noontime  Variety  show,  "Brunch  With  Bill,"  a 
Monday-through-Friday  half  hour  feature.  For  a  time,  while  the 
show's  originator,  Bill  Hinds,  was  in  the  Army,  King  wrote  script  and 
acted  as  Brunchmaster.  When  Hinds  returned  to  the  Station,  King 
continued  as  writer  and  actor. 

The  five-day-a-week  stint  left  him  too  much  time  on  his  hands, 
however,  and  he  set  about- writing  other  shows.  His  next  effort  was 
a  serious  dramatic  presentation,  "The  Man  Who  Forgot,"  a  Good 
Friday  drama  based  on  the  story  of  Pontius  Pilate.  It  has  since  be- 
come a  KDKA  tradition  and  is  presented  every  Good  Friday. 

His  next  effort  was  a  special  summer  replacement,  "King  for  a 
Minute,"  a  15-minute  satirical  program  in  which  he  poked  fun  at  every 
kind  of  stuffed-shirtedness  that  came  his  way. 

He  returned  to  serious  writing  just  before  the  National  Presidential 
Campaigns  opened  when  he  wrote  and  produced  a  13-week  series  of 
half  hour  dramatic  productions  entitled  "The  Star-Spangled  'X'  " —  a 
political  history  of  the  men  who  sought  the  Presidency. 

Months  of  research  brought  to  light  little  known  episodes  of  the 
nation's  early  political  conventions.  They  were  presented  with  true 
historic  flavor  and  rounded  out  by  the  sparkling  campaign  and  folk 
songs  of  the  day. 

In  addition  to  writing  and  producing  KDKA  radio  shows,  King  has 
taken  part  in  many  of  them  as  an  actor.  He  has  been  featured  in  the 
Adventures  in  Research  series  and  in  the  KDKA  public  service  shows 
on  Sundays  at  4:30  P.M. 

King  and  his  wife,  Wendy,  live  in  suburban  Beechview  and  devote 
their  spare  time  to  their  book  and  record  collections.  Wendy,  former 
Ft.  Wayne  newspaper  woman  and  continuity  writer,  continues  her 
radio  work  in  Pittsburgh  as  a  free-lance  writer  for  advertising 
agencies. 

They  both  like  radio  and  now  that  they're  sure  it's  here  to  stay,  they 
are  exploring  the  possibilities  of  television. 


16 


My  Lux  Soap  facials 
bring  quick  new  Loveliness ! " 

says  Myrna  Loy 


Here's  a  proved  complexion  care!  In 
recent  Lux  Toilet  Soap  tests  by  skin 
specialists,  actually  three  out  of  four  com- 
plexions became  lovelier  in  a  short  time! 

"Smooth  the  fragrant  lather  well  in," 
says  Myrna  Loy.  "Rinse  with  warm  water, 
then  cold.  As  you  pat  with  a  soft  towel  to 
dry,  skin  takes  on  fresh  new  beauty!" 

Don't  let  neglect  cheat  you  of  romance. 
Take  Hollywood's  tip.  See  what  this  gentle 
beauty  care  will  do  for  you! 


Star  of 
Republic  Pictures' 

"THE  RED  PONY" 


■ 

M 

17 


WHAT'S   NEW  FROM   COAST  to   COAST 


Dinah  Shore  was  a  recent  radio  "instructor"  in  Los 
Angeles'  new  Board   of  Education  training  program. 


(Continued  from  page  15) 
started  buying  horses  again  and  is  pinning  high  hopes  on 
a  colt  that  will  probably  be  named  "Gorgeous  George," 
if  the  name  is  passed  by  the  U.  S.  Jockey  Club. 

*         *         * 

After  all  the  fine  talk  about  how  television  is  going  to 
be  such  a  big  thing  in  such  a  short  time,  Sid  Strotz, 
NBC's  head  of  television,  threw  a  lakeful  of  cold  water 


on  the  whole  thing  recently.  He  predicted  that  losses  by 
the  pioneers  in  the  new  field  would  be  staggering  for  the 
next  three  years  and  that  a  national  hook-up  would  be 
economically  impossible  for  at  least  10  years.  Expect  to 
hear  some  large  beefs  from  other  experts,  soon. 
*         *         * 

One  of  the  reasons  Jack  Barry,  who  emcees  Life  Be- 
gins at  80,  gave  up  his  search  for  the  oldest  living  person 
in  the  country  was  that  birth  records  were  not  too  care- 
fully kept  more  than  fifty  years  ago.  Jack  even  now  runs 
into  difficulties  in  getting  documentary  evidence  of  the 
ages  of  people  trying  to  get  on  the  show.  He  says  that 
some  of  the  oldsters  seeking  spots  on  the  panel  produce 
all  kinds  of  documents,  their  driver's  licenses,  insurance 
policies,  passports,  Spanish  American  War  discharge  cer- 
tificates, wills,  contracts  and  even  the  birth  certificates 
of  their  children — which  in  most  instances  contain  the 
ages  of  the  parents — but  never  has  one  of  the  applicants 
produced  his  or  her  own  birth  certificate. 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  .  .  .  Tommy  Dorsey  is  buying  out 
his  disc  jockey  show  and  handling  the  recorded  stanza 
and  all  its  business  by  himself  .  .  .  William  L.  Shirer  has 
written  a  play  which  is  making  the  rounds  of  Broadway 
producers  . .  .  Raymond  Paige  is  working  on  movie  shorts 
based  on  the  idea  of  his  Musicomedy  radio  series — 
dramatizing  leading  magazine  stories  and  fitting  music 
to  them  .  .  .  Martin  Block  has  his  headquarters  back  in 
New  York  again  .  .  .  Several  record  companies  are  in  a 
bad  shape  and  likely  to  fold  before  the  end  of  the  year 
.  .  .  Marion  Hutton  has  been  working  with  the  Marx 
Brothers  on  their  new  picture,  due  to  hit  the  nation's 
screens  soon  .  .  .  Dick  Powell  is  making  another  movie 
based  on  an  original  story  .  .  .  Phil  Baker  has  been  busy 
writing  a  book  on  his  30  years  in  show  business  . . .  That's 
all  for  this  month.    Happy  listening. 


Compare  Tissues...  Compare  Boxes  — 

There  is  only  ONE 
KLEENEX 


America's 

Favorite  Tissue 


*T.  M.  Ro*.  V.  S.  I'ot.  on. 


With  Kleenex  you  save  time,      Pull  just  one  double  tissue       Next  one  pops  up  ready 
trouble,  tissues.  at  a  time.  for  use! 


Collectors  d 


orner 


By  SARAH  VAUGHAN 


(Sarah  Vaughan  has  been  acclaimed 
a  foremost  song  stylist  of  modern  times. 
During  the  past  year  she's  won  top 
honors  in  many  polls.  She  won  the 
1947  Esquire  Award  as  the  outstanding 
new  singing  star  of  the  year.  Sarah, 
who's  23  years  old,  was  singing  in  the 
choir  of  the  Mount  Zion  Baptist  Church, 
Newark,  N.  J.,  until  five  years  ago  when 
she  won  an  amateur  contest  at  a  New 
York  theater  and  a  job  as  vocalist  with 
Earl  Hines'  band.  She  was  signed  by 
Musicraft  Records  in  1946  and  has  been 
that  label's  top-selling  artist.) 

MY   FAVORITE 
TEN   VOCAL   RECORDS 

1.  "Ave  Maria"  by  Marian  Anderson 

2.  "Nancy"  by  Frank  Sinatra 

3.  "Around  About  Midnight"  by  Mar- 
garet Whiting 

4.  "A  Sunday  Kind  of  Love"   by  Jo 
Stafford 

5.  "It's    Monday    Every   Day"    by    Jo 
Stafford 

6.  "I'm  Getting  Sentimental  Over  You" 
by  Jack  Leonard 

7.  "Stairway  To   The   Stars"   by   Ella 
Fitzgerald 

8.  "Good    Morning,     Heartaches"    by 
Billie  Holiday 

9.  "Intrigue"  by  Billy  Eckstine 

10.  "Basin  Street  Blues"  by  Herb  Jef- 
fries. 

My  favorites  among  my  own  discs 
are:  "The  Lord's  Prayer,"  "Everything 
I  Have  Is  Yours,"  "It's  Magic,"  all  on 
the  Musicraft  label. 

This  list  comprises  records  by  all  my 
favorite  vocalists.  I  am  heading  the  list 
with  Marian  Anderson's  "Ave  Maria" 
because  I  am  a  very  great  admirer  of 
Miss  Anderson's  work.  Many  times  I 
have  wished  that  I  could  go  in  for  the 
serious  kind  of  work  she  has  done.  One 
of  the  greatest  thrills  of  my  entire 
career  came  a  short  time  ago  when  Miss 
Anderson  called  me  up  to  compliment 
me  on  my  recording  of  "The  Lord's 
Prayer."  To  say  the  least,  I  was  over- 
whelmed. 

My  favorite  male  vocalists  are  Frank 
Sinatra  and  Billy  Eckstine.  Billy  and 
I  worked  together  with  Earl  Hines' 
band,  and  when  Billy  started  his  own 
band  in  1945,  I  went  with  him. 

As  for  girl  singers,  I  like  and  admire 
a  lot  of  them,  particularly  Jo  Stafford, 
Ella  Fitzgerald,  Billie  Holiday  and  Mar- 
garet Whiting.  I  think  each  has  her 
own  particular  style,  and  that  is  what 
makes  a  singer. 


Oaeaadttt'  $m4e&  smile  wins 
a  feather  for  her  hat ! 


Jacqueline  Crouse,  Art  Student,  outsparkled 
1300  of  Boston's  brightest  beauties  in  a  Com- 
munity Fund  contest  to  choose  the  city's  1948 
Red  Feather  Girl.  A  jury  of  prominent  citizens 
awarded  her  the  "crown"  — a  Lilly  Dache  hat 
adorned  with  a  red  feather,  symbol  of  the  Com- 
munity Chests  of  America. 

Jacqueline's  smile  has  a  way  with  college  men, 
too.  They  voted  her  "Sweetheart  of  Sigma  Chi" 
at  Brown  University.  Now  her  smile  is  brighten- 
ing the  campus  of  the  Rhode  Island  School  of 
Design.  "It's  a  Pepsodent  Smile,"  Jacqueline 
says.  "No  other  tooth  paste  will  do  for  me!" 


The  smile  that  wins 
is  the  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


Jacqueline  Crouse  knows  it,  people  all  over 
America  agree— the  smile  that  wins  is  the 
Pepsodent  Smile!  Pepsodent  with  Irium  is 
their  3-to-l  favorite  for  brighter  smiles. 

Wins  3  to  1  over  any  other  tooth  paste 

—families  from  coast  to  coast  recently  com- 
pared delicious  New  -Pepsodent  with  the 
tooth  paste  they  were  using  at  home.  By 
an  average  of  3  to  1,  they  said  New  Pepso- 
dent tastes  better,  makes  breath  cleaner 
and  teeth  brighter  than  any  other  tooth 
paste  they  tried.  For  the  safety  of  your 
smile  use  Pepsodent  twice  a  day— see  your 
dentist  twice  a  year! 


ANOTHER  FINE  LEVER  IROTHERS   PRODUCT 


19 


ENTHUSIAST  EXTRAORDINARY 


IF  there's  one  word  you  can  associate  with 
Ross  Weller — whether  you  meet  him  in  per- 
son, see  him  before  a  mike,  or  hear  him  over 
the  air — it's  "enthusiasm."  He  has  plenty  of  it, 
and  five  long  years  in  the  Army,  including 
action  on  Okinawa,  has  failed  to  lessen  his 
spirits. 

He  has  an  enthusiasm  for  his  own  job  and 
for  all  branches  of  show  business — including  a 
new  one,  television.  His  love  for  entertainment 
began  back  in  high  school  when  he  was  presi- 
dent of  the  Dramatic  Club  and  continued 
through  college,  where  he  also  headed  the  dra- 
matic group. 

The  versatile  Weller  writes,  produces  and  is 
co-M.C.  of  WBEN's  Early  Date  at  Hengerer's, 
Buffalo's  daily  audience  show  now  passing  the 
1100  mark  in  broadcasts.  This  fun-and-music, 
quiz-and-stunt  show  originates  in  the  tearoom 
of  Hengerer's  Buffalo  department  store,  and  it's 
Ross  who  thinks  up  all  those  stunts  and  games 
that  keep  the  visible  and  listening  audience 
guessing  and  grinning. 

Ross  was  born  in  Toronto,  Ontario,  July  13, 
1916.  He  moved  with  his  parents  to  Rochester, 
N.  Y.  when  he  was  4  and  went  through  school 
there,  graduating  from  the  University  of  Roch- 
ester in  1938. 

He  was  the  sparkplug  in  dramatics  at  the  uni- 
versity and  played  three  summers  of  dramatic 
stock  during  college  vacations.  Upon  gradua- 
tion, he  went  to  New  York  to  look  over  stage 
prospects  and  after  three  months  decided  that, 
for  him,  things  didn't  look  too  well. 

Young  Weller  returned  to  Rochester  and  was 
in  the  auto  financing  business  for  a  year,  but 
that  didn't  provide  the  proper  outlet  for  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  personable  six-footer.  In 
January  1940  he  joined  WSAY,  Rochester,  as 
an  announcer,  and  when  he  left  in  January  1942 
to  become  program  director  at  WBTA,  Batavia 
— half-wav  between  Rochester  and  his  future 
home,  Buffalo — he  was  chief  announcer. 

Ross  joined  the  Army  in  September  1941  and 
had  attained  the  rank  of  sergeant  when  he 
started  at  Officers'  Candidate  School.  In  August 
1942,  he  was  commissioned  as  a  second  lieu- 
tenant. 

He  was  assigned  to  the  87th  infantry  division 
and  in  1944  was  transferred  to  Hawaii.  There 
he  joined  the  Tenth  Army  and  was  in  on  the 
invasion  of  Okinawa.  He  remained  there  until 
December  22,  1945,  when  he  was  hospitalized 
and  flown  back  to  the  States. 

While  at  Okinawa  he  acquired  a  fungus  in- 
fection and  was  hospitalized  for  eleven  months, 
finally  receiving  his  honorable  discharge  in 
October  1946  with  the  rank  of  major.  He  now 
holds  the  same  rank  in  the  reserve  Signal  Corps. 

Five  days  out  of  service,  he  was  back  in  radio 
as  staff  announcer  at  WHAM,  Rochester  where 
he  became  a  special-events  man  and  handled  a 
platter  show  and  a  novelty  program.  He  came 
to  WBEN  Sept.  22,  1947  and  has  been  announc- 
ing, disc-jockeying,  writing  and  producing  on  a 
busy  schedule  ever  since. 

On  April  19,  1947,  the  rangy  Ross  married 
lovely  Jane  Helen  Hoercher  of  Rochester. 


Program  hostess  Esther  Huff  with  Clint  Buehlman 
and  Ross  Weller  (r.),  of  Early  Date  at  Hengerer's. 


Looking  backwards  to  a  happy  day,  April  19,  1947, 
when  Jane  H.  Hoercher  of  Rochester  became  Mrs.  W. 


'"■v..;J  L§  m  iMv) 


W'TH  THE    NEW  IPOK-AHD  THE    "NEWlW 


EVER  SINCE  Johnny  Appleseed  planted  his 
first  trees,  we  Americans  have  been  eating 
and  liking  apple  dumplings. 

Now,  everybody'll  like  'em  even  better  be- 
cause there's  a  new  trick,  thanks  to  KARO:; 
Syrup,  that  .gives  them  a  gorgeous  golden  crust, 
and  a  more  delicious  flavor. 

Why  not  make  some  KARO  apple  dumplings 
today?  They're  easy  and  economical.  Want  to 
know  what  your  family  will  say?  Just  two  words 
. .  ."More,  please". 


thE   fCARO    KiD 


*KARO  is  a  registere d  trade-mark 
of  Corn  Products  Refininsr  Co., 
New  York.  N.Y.  ©  C.l'.R.Co..  H4K 


KARO  is  available  in 
V/2,5&  10  lb.  sizes. 


APPLE   DUMPLINGS 


^ 


1  recipe  baking  powder  biscuit  dough 


KARO  adds  richness  and  flavor 
to  baked  apples,  apple  pies,  and 
many  other  delicious  apple  dishes. 
Send  today  for  the  FREE  recipe 
booklet,  address  Helen  Holmes, 
Corn  Products  Refining  Company, 
1 7  Battery  Place,  New  York  4,  N.Y. 


■HUB 


2  tablespoons  lemon 

juice 
'/4    teaspoon  salt 
1  teaspoon  cinnamon 


6  medium  baking  apples, 

pared  and  cored 
2  tablespoons  melted  butter 

or  margarine 
VI  cup  sugar 

lVi  cups  KARO  Syrup,  Blue  Label  Va  cup  water 

3  tablespoons  melted  butter  or  margarine 

Roll  baking  powder  biscuit  dough  into  a  rectangle  Vs  inch  thick. 
Cut  into  6  squares.  Place  an  apple  in  center  of  each  square.  Fill 
centers  of  apples  with  mixtures  of  2  tablespoons  melted  butter, 
sugar,  lemon  juice,  salt  and  spices.  Pinch  corners  of  squares  to- 
gether over  each  opple.  Place  in  greased  pan  {7'/2xl2x2  inches). 
Combine  KARO  Syrup,  water  and  3  tablespoons  melted  butter. 
Pour  over  dumplings.  Bake  in  hoi  oven  (450°  F.)  10  minutes; 
reduce  temperature  to  350°  F.  and  continue  baking  35  to  40 
minutes  or  until  apples  are  tender.  Baste  occasionally  with  syrup 
mixture  during  baking.  Makes  6  servings. 


BEHIND 


#r 


1 


/N 


SjMfc'MJa 


^COMPANY  COCKTAIL 

In  many  homes,  Dole  Pineapple  Juice  is 
the  "Here's  to  Thanksgiving"  drink  .  .  . 
served  in  many  ways,  with  festive  meals, 
and  even  in-between!  This  holiday  season, 
enjoy  its  refreshing  coolness  for  "after- 
noon tea."  Its  tropic  refreshing  flavor  goes 
great  with  salted  nuts  and  fruit  cake. 


DOLE 


PINEAPPLE  PLUM  PUDDING 

Holiday   dinners   call   for   plum    pudding 

and   yours   this   year   can    be   better   than 

ever!  Just  add  a  cup  of  drained  new  Dole 

lied  Pineapple  to  your  standard  plum 

pudding  recipe.  For  extra  taste-excitemrin, 

fold  some  into  your  bard  sauce,  too.  The 

Doll  Crushed,  you  know,  looks  bet- 

md  tasti     bettei   be<  aus<    it  is  i  risp- 

.    ;i ;  .!  :  an  today? 

*By  Patricia  Collier 

Harm  i  i  onomist 
li   (  ompany,  Ltd. 
215  Markei  St.,  San  l  rani  isi  o,  Calif. 


Mf  True 

Story 


CHARLES  Warburton,  co-director  of 
My  True  Story  (ABC,  Monday 
through  Friday  at  10  A.M.,  EST), 
is  one  of  those  actors  and  directors  who 
has  been  in  the  business  for  so  long 
that  he's  developed  a  fine  sense  of 
horseplay  about  the  "Profession,"  as  it 
is  called  by  its  devotees.  He  has  an 
easy  laugh,  a  charming  manner,  and  a 
voice  which  over  the  air  and  telephone 
belies  his  years  and  experience. 

Mr.  Warburton  comes  from  an  old 
English  theatrical  family.  He  was  born 
in  Yorkshire,  England,  and  educated  at 
Wesley  College  and  Sheffield  Uni- 
versity. When  he  got  through  with  that 
formal  part  of  his  education  he  joined 
the  famous  acting  company  of  Sir 
Frank  Benson  and  ".  .  .  spent  the  next 
twelve  years,   really  learning." 

In  1913,  he  toured  the  United  States 
with  the  Stratford-on-Avon  players, 
but  before  that  tour  went  too  far  he 
returned  to  England  to  enlist  for 
service  in  the  First  World  War.  He 
served  three  years  in  France  and  pre- 
fers not  to  talk  about  it. 

When  he  returned  to  England  for 
demobilization,  the  first  person  he  ran 
into  on  the  street  was  the  manager  of 
the  Old  Vic,  who  invited  him  to  join 
the  company  immediately. 

In  a  short  while,  Mr.  Warburton  be- 
came the  leading  man  of  the  Old  Vic 
Company  and,  a  year  later,  he  added 
to  his  duties  that  of  directing  the  com- 
pany. 

Late  in  1920,  Mr.  Warburton  made  a 
second  visit  to  the  United  States.  This 
was  a  visit  that  never  ended,  for  he's 
been  here  ever  since  and  has  become 
an  American  citizen. 

Mr.  Warburton  auditioned  for  NBC 
in  1927  and  was  promptly  hired  as  an 
actor-director.  He  was  on  the  staff  of 
NBC  for  many  years.  Now,  he's  added 
ABC  to  his  conquests,  where  he  is  one 


PRODUCER 


L^narles      l/Uarb 


urlon 


ACTRESS 


C^oLith    FJ~ellt 


owi 


of  their  most  highly  respectecLdirectors. 
Mr.  Warburton  has  been  with  the 
My  True  Story  program  ever  since 
it  started  and  he  figures,  roughly,  that 
he's  directed  about  six  hundred  of  the 

stories  that  have  been  presented. 

*         *         * 

One  of  the  actresses  most  frequently 
called  upon  to  appear  on  the  My  True 
Story  stanza  is  tiny  Edith  Fellows,  who 
tips  the  scales  at  exactly  89  pounds,  is 
five  feet  tall  and  has  hazel  eyes  and 
reddish-blonde  hair.  Which  doesn't 
really  describe  her  after  all. 

Practically  all  her  life,  Edith  has 
been  an  entertainer.  She  was  born  in 
Boston  in  1923  of  Scotch-English  de- 
scent. There  is  behind  her  a  long  line 
of  distinguished  artists,  singers,  actors 
and  politicians. 

Edith's  baby  years  were  spent  in 
Charlotte,  North  Carolina,  where,  as 
soon  as  she  was  able  to  walk  and  talk, 
she  was  called  on  to  entertain  at 
benefits. 

All  this  was  fine  in  North  Carolina. 
But  when  Edith  was  taken  to  Holly- 
wood at  the  age  of  three,  her  parents 
discovered  that  hundreds  of  other  hope- 
ful parents  and  their  talented  offspring 
(at  least,  so  the  parents  thought)  had 
also  had  the  same  idea. 

When  Edith  was  finally  spotted  by  a 
talent  scout,  she  was  given  tiny  extra 
parts  and  flashes  in  mob  scenes  with 
hundreds  of  other  children  whose  par- 
ents also  hoped  they'd  be  successful 
one  day. 

Then,  as  her  roles  in  pictures  grew 
larger  until  she  was  playing  opposite 
Bing  Crosby  in  "Pennies  From  Heaven" 
and,  even  more  successfully  with 
Claudette  Colbert  in  "She  Married  Her 
Boss,"  Edith  began  to  get  places  in 
radio,  too — as  a  singer.  There  followed 
another  vaudeville  tour,  in  which  pro- 
ducer Brock  Pemberton  saw  her  and 
decided  she  was  just  what  the  doctor 
ordered  to  play  the  title  role  of  "Janie." 

Edith  has  also  made  her  mark  in 
musical  comedy.  But  her  debut  in  that 
field  was  not  on  the  Broadway  stage, 
or  before  the  Hollywood  cameras.  The 
first  audiences  to  whom  she  sang  were 
the  service  men  at  hospitals  and  can- 
teens. 

And  from  this  came  a  series  of  musi- 
cals such  as  the  title  role  in  the  Broad- 
way hit,  "Marinka,"  and  leading  roles 
in  summer  stock  productions  of  "Ros- 
alie," "Student  Prince,"  "Naughty  Mar- 
ietta," "Babes  in  Toyland"  and  George 
Abbott's  "Best  Foot  Forward."  This  is  a 
young  lady  who's  been  knocking 
around  in  show  business  as  long  as 
many  a  veteran  of  far  riper  years,  but 
she  loves  it  and  can  think  of  no  other 
life  that  she  would  rather  follow. 


w^/g^aakifstF^x 


YES,  I'M  JEANNIE.  Together,  Fred  and  I 
turned  out  songs  .  .  .  about  love  and  moon- 
beams. To  annoy  me  he  sometimes  whistled 
"Jeannie  with  the  Light  Brown  Hair".  .  .  for 
my  brown  hair  was  nothing  to  dream  about. 
It  was  just  dingy-looking  and  unruly. 


BACKSTAGE  ONE  NIGHT,  my  chum  \|j  II 
told  me  the  secret  of  her  gorgeous  hair. 
"Lustre-Creme  Shampoo,"  she  said.  "My  hair- 
dresser uses  it.  It's  not  a  soap,  nor  a  liquid, 
but  a  new  cream  shampoo  with  lanolin.  Lse 
it  at  home,  too,  and  keep  your  hair  lovely!" 


Jeannie  with  the  dull  wild  hair... 
now  a  lovely ' LUSTRECREME  Girl 


WHEN  I  GAILY  ARRIVED  at  our  studio  next  day,  Fred  whistled  in  amaze- 
ment. "Hold  it,  Gorgeous!"  he  cried.  "Your  hair!  It's  wonderful!  If 
Stephen  Foster  could  write  lyrics  about  lovely  brown  hair,  so  can  I. 
What  rhymes  with  glisten,  glamour,  sheen,  and  pays  off  with  lovel)  dream 
girl?"  Thanks  to  Lustre-Creme  Shampoo,    1    rated  a  love  song  alter   all. 


YOU,  TOO  .  .  .  can  have  soft,  gleaming, 
glamorous  hair  with  magical  Lustre-Creme 
Shampoo.  Created  by  Kay  Daumit,  to 
glamorize  hair  with  new  3-way  loveliness: 
1.  Fragrantly  clean,  free  of  loose  dandruff 
2.  Glistening  with  sheen 
3.  Soft,  easy  to  manage 
Lustre-Creme  is  a  blend  of  secret  ingredi- 
ents— plus  gentle  lanolin,  akin  to  the  oils 
in  a  healthy  scalp.  Lathers  richly  in  hard 
or  soft  water.  No  special  rinse  needed.  Try 
Lustre-Creme  Shampoo!  Be  a  lovely 
"Lustre-Creme"  Girl.  4-oz.  jar  $1.00; 
smaller  sizes  in  jars  or  tubes,  49^  ami  '2'iC. 
At   all   cosmetic   counters.   Try   it   today! 

Koy  Daumit,  Inc.  (Successor!  919  N.  Mich.  Ave.,  Chicago, III. 


\n/l:other  you   r.  -   er  the  TUBE  or      he  JAR, 
you'll    prefer    LUSTRE-CREME    SnAMPOO    I 


woods  /VEWES  T  brtiwioiw  Secret 


RITA  HAYWORTH 

STAR   OF 

"THE  LOVES 
OF  CARMEN" 

A   Columbia   Technicolor 
Production 

A  Beckworlb  Corp. 
Picture 


PHOTO   BY   COBURN 


a#^ 


■  .„l  Survey*0"'5"' 

..^  any  make-up 
A  -1  havener*  '» 


The  New  Cream-Type  Make-Up 
in  unique  stick  form 

Now. .  .for  you. . .  Hollywood's  newest  way  to  create  glamorous 

beauty... instantly... miraculously.  It's  Pan-Stik...a  new 

amazing  cream-type  make-up  discovery  as  revolutionary  as  the 

first  lipstick.  Your  complexion  looks  new,  flawless, 

fascinatingly  beautiful.  Your  skin  feels  soft,  refreshed,  unbelievably 

smooth.  Pan-Stik  is  so  easy  and  quick  to  apply,  so 

light,  so  long-lasting,  so  wonderfully  convenient,  so  completely 

different  from  anything  you  have  ever  used  before... 

You'll  love  it  from  the  very  first  make-up. 

CREATED   FOR   THE  SCREEN   STARS  AND   YOU.     BY 

ftlAxFAcroz  *  tyouywoov 

IN  SEVEN  GORGEOUS  SHADES  ...  $1  .<jO 


■u 


Z  "My  skin  feels 

ing  t"  »'S'5'- 

evenly,  »<?* ' 
orshiny^ 
■  >lt  looks  so  na 
iton-I'"}'' 
i  «H  covers  W< 
and  makes 
4  "jAy  skin  ft 
tight,** 


*Pan-Stik  (trademark) 

means  Max  Factor  Hollywood 

Cream-Type  Make-Up 


REVOLUTIONARY...  DIFFERENT 


^sea^/  to  U4e  <M 


'&s?tc£/ 


'■'>-■ 


A  few  light  strokes  of 
Pan-Stik.  ..smoothed 
with  your  fingertips 
...creates  a  lovelier 
complexion. 


fv 


Looks  glowingly  natu- 
ral, soft  and  youthful  — 
stays  on  from  morning 
to  night. 


Non-drying  . . .  your  skin 
feels  refreshed  . . .  never 
tight,  drawn,  or  dry. 


Easily  tucked  away  for  any 
unexpected  make-up  need. 


Around  New  York   City's   famous   east 
side  Terminal,   producer  Martin  Horrell    (above) 
builds  a  drama  each  week.  Exciting  train- 
time  sounds  are  re-created  by  the  program's   iound- 
effects  men   (r.),  Jim  Rogan,  Francis  Mellow. 


'TT1HE  play's  the  thing,"  Shakespeare  said  long  ago.  In 
I  hearty  agreement  with  Mr.  S.  is  Martin  Horrell,  pro- 
ducer and  originator  of  Grand  Central  Station,  popular 
dramatic  show  heard  every  Saturday  over  the  Columbia 
Broadcasting  System  network.  If  Mr.  Horrell  insists  upon 
adding,  "But  don't  forget  the  writer,"  those  who  know  the 
story  behind  the  stories  broadcast  on  Grand  Central  Sta- 
tion will  readily  understand. 

Since  the  first  presentation  of  Grand  Central  Station  in 
1937,  Martin  Horrell  has  produced  a  new  and  different 
drama  on  the  air  each  week.  Despite  his  enviable  reputa- 
tion in  the  radio  world  as  a  story  editor,  he  says  that  could 
not  have  sustained  the  high  quality  of  his  program  and  its 


wide  listener  appeal  without  a  steady  flow  of  radio  scripts 
from  fledgling  and  professional  free-lance  writers,  upon 
which  to  mount  his  painstaking  production. 

Ten  years  is  a  long  time  on  the  air  and  a  lot  of  writing  is 
consumed  in  that  length  of  time,  particularly  in  a  radio 
show  with  a  different  story  and  a  new  set  of  characters 
coming  up  every  week.  These  new  stories,  individual  radio 
dramas,  don't  just  happen.  They  must  be  written,  and  that 
requires  writers.  That's  where  producer  Horrell  departs 
from  the  most-trodden  paths.  Although  the  work  of  well- 
known  radio  writers  is  frequently  produced  on  Grand 
Central  Station,  the  emphasis  is  on  new  talent.  Budding 
authors    are    encouraged    and    {Continued    on    page    96) 


Grand  Central  Station  is  heard  each  Saturday  on  CBS  at  1   P.M.  EST. 


25 


M 


■-<&?     /""'  iiM 


AST  year  the  First  Annual  Radio  Mirror  Awards 
brought  the  readers  of  Radio  Mirror  their  first 
opportunity  to  vote,  on  a  nationwide  scale,  for 
their  favorite  radio  programs  and  performers.  Last 
year,  too,  marked  the  first  time  that  the  people  most 
closely  concerned  with  the  business  of  radio — the 
networks,  advertising  agencies,  press  agents,  and 
their  producers  and  directors,  as  well  as  the  radio 
stars  themselves — had  an  opportunity  to  learn  how 
the  reader-listeners  felt  about  the  programs  being 
offered  to  the  public.  And  after  all,  the  people  who 
listen  to  radio  are  the  most  important  people  of  all 
to  the  radio  industry. 

Now,  in  1948,  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards,  no  longer 
an  experiment,  but  an  important  part  of  the  radio 
scene,  will  again  search  out  listener  preferences, 
again  provide  the  public  with  a  medium  through 
which  its  voice  can  be  heard,  again  provide  the  in- 
dustry with  standards  against  which  to  weigh  pro- 
grams already  on  the  air  and  those  planned  for  future 
airing.  Not  only  in  1948,  but  every  year — for  the 
Awards  are  now  an  important  part  of  the  Radio 
Mirror  annual  schedule. 

If  you,  the  listener,  have  applauded  your  favorite 
programs  and  stars  only  in  your  own  home,  where 
your  opinion  can  be  heard  only  by  your  family, 
here  is  your  chance  to  be  heard  coast  to  coast!    And 


if  your  criticism  of  shows  and  performers  you  dislike 
has  also  been  a  family  affair,  here's  the  way  to  make 
your  dislikes  known  on  a  large  scale.  Even  if  you 
are  one  of  the  people  who  write  to  networks  about 
programs,  remember  that  one  voice  alone  makes 
little  sound,  but  many  together  can  produce  earth- 
shaking  volume! 

On  the  opposite  page  is  the  first  of  the  two  Radio 
Mirror  Awards  ballots.  On  this  first  ballot,  you  are 
invited  to  state  your  preferences  among  the  radio 
stars  now  on  the  air.  Next  to  each  type  of  star, 
printed  on  the  ballot,  is  a  space  in  which  to  write 
the  name  of  the  performer  who,  in  your  opinion,  is 
the  best  in  that  field. 

Send  your  completed  ballot  to  Radio  Mirror  Mag- 
azine, 205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 
Results  will  be  announced  in  the  April,  1949,  issue 
of  Radio  Mirror. 

Next  month,  in  the  December  issue  of  Radio  Mir- 
ror, a  ballot  on  which  to  vote  for  your  favorite 
programs  will  appear.  The  December  issue  will  be 
on  sale  Wednesday,  November  10th. 

Remember  that  you  can  vote  only  for  your  fa- 
vorite stars  on  the  ballot  opposite;  next  month, 
vote  for  your  favorite  programs  on  the  ballot 
which  will  be  printed  in  the  December  issue  of  Radio 
Mirror. 


13 


Mt/(Aowfr  mm*  tawmtfe 


_^_ 


VOTE  FOR  YOUR  FAVORITE  STARS 

(Write  in  the  name  of  your  one  favorite  star  opposite  each  of  the  classifications  below) 

My  Favorite  My  Favorite 

SINGER    (man)    is SINGER    (woman)   is 


My  Favorite 
ORCHESTRA  LEADER  is. 

My  Favorite 
ANNOUNCER  is 


My  Favorite 

NEWS  COMMENTATOR  is 

My  Favorite 

SPORTS  ANNOUNCER  is .  . 


My  Favorite  My   Favorite 

COMEDIAN    (man)    is COMEDIENNE    (woman)    is. 


My  Favorite 

DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTOR  is 


My  Favorite 

DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTRESS  is 


My  Favorite  My  Favorite 

QUIZMASTER  is DISC  JOCKEY  is 


MOST  PROMISING  NEWCOMER  TO   RADIO   THIS   YEAR 

My  Favorite  MASTER  OF  CEREMONIES  is 

My  Favorite  WOMEN'S  COMMENTATOR  is 

My  Favorite  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  TEAM  is 

Cut  out  this  ballot  and  mail  to  Radio  Mirror  Awards,  205  East  42nd   Street,  New  York  17,  N.  T. 


I 


radw  Afapb  wt  wfata  w, 


_. . 

c/Caatd  ^Mwwcv-A  Aeamd  annual  aw€W<m 


L. 


\ 


I 


J    yf    & 


AST  year  the  First  Annual  Radio  Mirror  Awards 
brought  the  readers  of  Radio  Mirror  their  first 
opportunity  to  vote,  on  a  nationwide  scale,  for 
their  favorite  radio  programs  and  performers.  Last 
year,  too,  marked  the  first  time  that  the  people  most 
closely  concerned  with  the  business  of  radio — the 
networks,  advertising  agencies,  press  agents,  and 
their  producers  and  directors,  as  well  as  the  radio 
stars  themselves — had  an  opportunity  to  learn  how 
the  reader-listeners  felt  about  the  programs  being 
offered  to  the  public.  And  after  all,  the  people  who 
listen  to  radio  are  the  most  important  people  of  all 
to  the  radio  industry. 

Now,  in  1948,  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards,  no  longer 
an  experiment,  but  an  important  part  of  the  radio 
scene,  will  again  search  out  listener  preferences, 
again  provide  the  public  with  a  medium  through 
which  its  voice  can  be  heard,  again  provide  the  in- 
dustry with  standards  against  which  to  weigh  pro- 
grams already  on  the  air  and  those  planned  for  future 
airing.  Not  only  in  1948,  but  every  year — for  the 
Awards  are  now  an  important  part  of  the  Radio 
Mirror  annual  schedule. 

If  you,  the  listener,  have  applauded  your  favorite 
programs  and  stars  only  in  your  own  home,  where 
your  opinion  can  be  heard  only  by  your  family, 
here  is  your  chance  to  be  heard  coast  to  coast!    And 


if  your  criticism  of  shows  and  performers  you  dislike 
has  also  been  a  family  affair,  here's  the  way  to  make 
your  dislikes  known  on  a  large  scale.  Even  if  you 
are  one  of  the  people  who  write  to  networks  about 
programs,  remember  that  one  voice  alone  makes 
little  sound,  but  many  together  can  produce  earth- 
shaking  volume! 

On  the  opposite  page  is  the  first  of  the  two  Radio 
Mirror  Awards  ballots.  On  this  first  ballot,  you  are 
invited  to  state  your  preferences  among  the  radio 
stars  now  on  the  air.  Next  to  each  type  of  star, 
printed  on  the  ballot,  is  a  space  in  which  to  write 
the  name  of  the  performer  who,  in  your  opinion,  is 
the  best  in  that  field. 

Send  your  completed  ballot  to  Radio  Mirror  Mag- 
azine, 205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N.  Y. 
Results  will  be  announced  in  the  April,  1949,  issue 
of  Radio  Mirror. 

Next  month,  in  the  December  issue  of  Radio  Mir- 
ror, a  ballot  on  which  to  vote  for  your  favorite 
programs  will  appear.  The  December  issue  will  be 
on  sale  Wednesday,  November  10th. 

Remember  that  you  can  vote  only  for  your  fa- 
vorite stars  on  the  ballot  opposite;  next  month, 
vote  for  your  favorite  programs  on  the  ballot 
which  will  be  printed  in  the  December  issue  of  Radio 
Mirror. 


VOTE  FOR  YOUR  FAVORITE  STAR9 

(Write  in  the  name  of  yonr  on.  ,„.„,.  8lap  „„„„., ,,  rf  ,        ( ^ 

My    Favorite  „      K 

SINGER    (man)    is  g  v  ,„    ^^^    ._ 

My  Favorite  ^    « 

ORCHESTRA  LEADER  is .       ,„,  .'o,',,,^.,  v|,,|(  „ 

My  Favorite  ,,,    ,.■„,.„,.„ 

ANNOUNCER  is . ,      sl>ORTs  m(m  ^  ^ 

My  Favorite  _  iMv   Kav„ri„. 

COMEDIAN  (man)  is COMEDIENNE  (mnum)  b 

My  Favorite  M).  F„v„ri,,. 

DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTOR  is  ...      DAYTIME  SERIAL  ACTRESS  b 

My  Favorite  «,    Favor|„ 

QUIZMASTER  is i„s,    J(1(K1.v   h 

MOST  PROMISING   NEWCOMER   TO    RADIO  THIS   YEW 

My  Favorite  MASTER  OF  CEREMONIES  is 

My  Favorite  WOMEN'S  COMMENTATOR  is 

My  Favorite  HUSBAND  AND  WIFE  TEAM  is   . 

Cat  oat  tilts  ballot  unit  mall  to  Radio  Mirror  Auiml-,   lit",   in.i    Und    Btnat,   tint    v..rk    IT    N.    Y. 


Mawb  vy  twlma  Sn  cJuidw  t«wJ  ieamd annual  auxwt/i 


-*' 


0 


Il)«-  <t>uiz   Kid.-  have  uidre  than  brains   on   theii 
RIN'.Y)    TEMPIiETO*^   and  JOI-L   M   P] 


THE  QUIZ  KIDS 


OEL  KUPPERMAN,  twelve-year-old  mathe- 
matical wizard  of  more  than  200  Quiz  Kid 
programs,  and  Rinny  Templeton,  thirteen, 
current  authority  on  history  and  literature,  join 
forces  to  tell  you  about  the  man  Radio  Mirror 
readers  named  the  nation's  best  quiz  master  in 
the  first  annual  listeners'  poll  last  year. 

Kids  are  like  dogs.  They  can  sense  the  dif- 
ference between  people  who  really  like  them 
and  those  who  put  on  an  act. 

We  Quiz  Kids  were  happy  when  Radio  Mirror 
readers  named  Joe  Kelly  the  nation's  best  quiz 
master  last  year.  He's  our  favorite  quiz  master, 
too,  and  the  main  reason  we  like  him  is  because 
we  know  he  likes  us. 

It  doesn't  take  long  for  a  new  Quiz  Kid  to  find 
out  about  Mr.  Kelly. 

Your  first  day  on  the  show  is  like  the  first  day 
at  a  new  school.  Everyone  has  told  you  not  to 
be  scared,  but  just  the  same,  you  are. 

Everything  seems  big  and  mysterious  when 
you  come  into  the  Merchandise  Mart  in  Chicago, 
thirty  minutes  ahead  of  the  show.  You  feel  you 
can  walk  and  walk  down  the  towering  corridors 
and  never  arrive  at  the  NBC  studios. 

You  wonder  what  kind  of  questions  they  will 
ask  you,  and  whether  you'll  know  any  of  the 
answers.  You  wish  you  could  get  just  one  little 
advance  glimpse  so  you  could  be  thinking  about 
them,  but  you  know  that  won't  happen.  You  re- 
member you  have  been  told  emphatically, 
"There's  no  rehearsal." 

You  zoom  up  in  an  elevator  fast  as  an  airplane, 
and  when  they  bring  you  into  the  little  corridor 
back  of  the  big  studio,  you  slip  past  the  control 
room  to  peek  through  the  door  to  see  the  row  of 
little  white  desks  on  the  platform.  You  find  your 
name  on  a  sign  in  front  of  one  of  them.  You  see 
the  audience  filing  in. 

All  those  people,  and  all  those  listening  on 
their  radios  will  hear  it  if  you  don't  know  the 
answers.  You  get  that  trembly  feeling  which 
comes  before  an  examination  in  school.  Only 
this  is  worse.  If  you're  small  enough,  you  hold 
tight  to  your  mother's  hand. 

The  other  kids  scuffle  and  joke  about  things 
that  happened  last  week.  They  toss  on  their 
rustling  red  gowns  as  though  they  were  old 
sweaters,  but  you  get  all  tangled  up  with  the 
hooks.  They  slap  their  mortar  boards  on  their 
heads  as  though  they  were  beanies,  while  you  try 


to  balance  that  strange  contraption  so  it  won't 
slide  down  over  your  nose.  You  have  had  no 
practice  wearing  an  academic  cap  and  gown. 

Just  when  you  are  sure  you  want  to  turn 
around  and  head  for  home,  Mr.  Kelly  comes  in. 
You're  introduced,  and  he  says,  "Well,  hello 
there  Rinny!" — or  Joel,  or  Lonnie,  or  Bobby,  or 
whatever  your  name  may  be — "I'm  certainly  glad 
to  see  you  here." 

You  know  he  means  it,  too.  You  feel  he  has 
been  waiting  for  you  all  the  time. 

Then  you  notice  he  has  almost  as  much  diffi- 
culty with  his  green  gown  as  you  had  with  your 
red  one.  He  fumbles  with  the  big  sleeves.  He 
jabs  a  hook  at  an  eye  and  misses.  You  weren't  so 
clumsy  after  all. 

He  pats  you  on  the   (Continued  on  page  72) 


M 
28 


, 


ANYONE  who  has  to  go  out  in  front  of  the  public  and 
make  like  an  actress  for  her  living  is  apt  to  have 
times,  usually  late  at  night,  when  she  wonders  who 
she  is.  This  is  a  mild  mental  disorder  which  might  be 
called  angleitis,  since  it  is  the  result  of  being  written 
about  from  too  many  different  angles  by  people  who 
have  nothing  better  to  do  than  go  around  thinking 
them  up — publicity  men  and  such.  One's  sense  of  being 
a  real  person  can  get  completely  lost  in  the  angular 
mazes  and  distorted  mirrors  of  publicity. 

The  other  night  at  dinner  I  was  trying  to  tell  ray 
husband,  Allan  Nixon,  something  about  this.  "Allan," 
I  said,  "sometimes  I  feel  so  overcrowded,  and  lately 
it's  been  getting  worse." 

"Now  look,  dumpling,"  Allan  spoke  very  firmly, 
"don't  go  trying  out  any  of  that  Irma  dialogue  on  me." 

If  you've  ever  heard  Irma,  you'll  need  no  diagram 
of  my  husband's  unkind  meaning:  he  meant  that  what 
I  was  saying  sounded  to  him  kind  of  off-center  and 
lunkheaded.  Which  just  goes  to  show,  as  every  married 
woman  knows,  that  even  the  best  husbands  can  be 
awfully  obtuse  at  times. 

What  I  was  trying  to  tell  Allan  was  that  sometimes 
the  inside  of  my  skull  feels  as  congested  as  the  area 
immediately  around  the  football  half  a  second  after 
a  fumble  on  the  one-yard  line  in  the  Rose  Bowl.  There 
are  too  many  Wilsons  in  there — or  too  many  press 
agents.  First,  there's  bone-dome  Wilson,  the  dumb, 
good-hearted  blonde  of  CBS,  Irma  on  My  Friend  Irma; 
then  there's  glamor-gam  Wilson,  one  of  the  more 
prominent  exhibits  in  that  menagerie  of  show  business, 
Ken  Murray's  Blackouts;  and  finally  there's  smarty- 
pants  Wilson,  who  works  hard  at  being  a  nitwit  and 
makes  it  pay  off  on  the  movie  lots.  And  away  down 
underneath  the  pile-up,  still  trying  hard  to  hang  onto 
the  ball,  is  a  slightly  scared  and  somewhat  suffocated 
character — and  that's  me,  Marie  Wilson.  That  gal  needs 
air.  She  needs  to  get  all  those  other  Wilsons  off  her 
chest.  That's  what  this  story  is  for  and  about.  Since 
Allan  wasn't  interested,  I'll  just  tell  you. 

To  begin  where  the  story  begins,  we  have  to  go 
back  to  Anaheim,  California,  December  the  thirtieth, 
nineteen  hundred  and  none  of  your  business.  But  it 
was  later  than  1916 — I've  got  a  birth  certificate  to 
prove  it. 

Shortly  after  my  arrival,  my  father  and  mother  were 
divorced.  I  firmly  believe  that  this  was  merely  a  coinci- 
dence. Anyway,  my  mother  married  again  very  soon 
and  my  stepfather  turned  out  such  a  grand  person 
that  the  "step"  part  could  just  as  well  be  omitted,  as 


Marie  Wilson  is  My  Friend  Irma  in  the 
CHS  comedy,  beard  Monday  nights  at  10  P.  M.  EST. 


A  double  life  can  be  a  very 


confusing  thing  for  a  girl — particularly 


when  it's  made  up  of  two  strong 


personalities  like  the  make-believe  Irma 


and  the  real  Marie  Wilson 


By  MARIE   WILSON 


far  as  I'm  concerned. 

With  my  three  brothers  and  two  sisters  I  had  an 
abnormally  happy  and  normal  childhood  among  the 
orange  groves  and  nuts  of  Anaheim — a  lot  of  English 
walnuts  are  grown  in  that  district.  Ours  was  a  chat- 
tersome  houseful;  whenever  there  were  fewer  than 
three  people  talking  at  once,  things  began  to  seem  dull. 

Play-acting  was  a  popular  pastime  in  our  family.  All 
kids  like  to  do  it,  I  suppose — dress  up  in  their  elders' 
clothes  and  parade  their  conceptions  of  how  grown-ups 
act.  Incidentally,  the  most  educational  thing  that  could 
happen  to  most  grown-ups  would  be  to  catch  a  child's 
impersonation  of  them.  Of  course  the  grown-up  has 
got  to  have  a  sense  of  humor,  or  the  results  for  the 
child  caught  doing  the  impersonation  are  likely  to  be 
painful.  I  speak  from  experience. 

However,  no  matter  what  some  people  say,  I  grew 
up,  and  at  sixteen  I  didn't  graduate  from  high  school. 
I'm  pretty  sure  I  would  have,  eventually,  if  I'd  per- 
sisted long  enough,  but  who  wants  to  spend  ten  or 
twelve  of  the  best  years  of  their  life  on  plane  geom- 
etry? I  quit  before  I'd  accumulated  enough  credits  to 
merit  a  diploma  and  went  to  Hollywood  to  be  a  movie 
star. 

Two  things  made  the  Hollywood  venture  possible — 
a  sizable  inheritance  left  me  by  my  real  father  when 
he  died,  and  an  absolutely  colossal  unawareness,  all 
my  own,  of  what  it  took  to  crack  a  movie  studio. 

The  first  move  of  my  foray  against  fame  and  fortune 
was  to  bring  my  whole  family  to  Hollywood  with  me. 
Being  one  of  a  big  family  isn't  (Continued  on  page  89) 


30 


^^^ 


Scatter-brained  is  a  mild 
word  for  Irma— but  on  the 
other  hand,  so  is  lovable! 


1935  .  .  .  the  late  Lupe  Velez  and  Santos  Ortega, 
now  a  familiar  radio  actor,  in  "Broken  Wing." 


By 

WILLIAM 

KEIGHLEY 

These  reminiscenses  of  Lux 
Radio  Theatre  are  written 
for  Radio  Mirror  by  the  pro- 
ducer-host of  the  program, 
which  is  heard  Mondays  at 
9  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS  stations. 


wmm 


Past  and  present,  the  veteran  Radio  Theatre  is  res- 


IF  a  train  does  not  pull  out  of  a  depot  on  schedule, 
it  pulls  out  after  schedule.  If  a  bus  lags  behind  its 
timetable,  it  is  not  removed  from  the  road.  If  a 
passenger  plane  does  not  take  off  on  time,  it  takes 
off  late.  And  if  a  ship  does  not  sail  the  day  of  an- 
nouncement, another  day  will  do. 

In  virtually  every  activity  involving  human  effort — 
on  land,  in  the  air  and  on  sea,  if  you  please — there 
is  a  second  chance  or  a  late  start.  In  my  nearly  three 
years  as  producer  and  host  of  the  Lux  Theatre,  I 
have  learned  that  radio — live  radio,  such  as  Lux,  of 
course — is  a  breathtaking  exception  to  the  rule  of 
margin  of  error. 

Never  was  it  more  painfully  apparent  than  on  the 
day,  three  hours  before  airtime,  when  it  was  dis- 
covered that  the  permission  of  author  Sally  Benson 
had  not  been  obtained  for  adaptation  of  "Sunday 
Dinner  for  a  Soldier." 

It  was  too  late  even  to  mimeograph  a  new  script, 
let  alone  time  to  rewrite  another  motion  picture  for 


1937   .  .  .  Janet  Gayjior,  Robert  Montgomery  in  a 
production  of  the  record-making  "A  Star  is  Born." 


52 


asible  for  some  of  radio's  most  glittering  moments 


radio  presentation.  Already  there  had  been  five  re- 
hearsals, aggregating  700  man  hours  of  preparation, 
as  was  the  custom  on  the  most  rehearsed  dramatic 
show  on  the  air. 

Somewhere  in  the  United  States  was  Sally  Benson, 
the  one  person  who  could  authorize  the  announced 
broadcast.  Just  where,  nobody  knew.  The  best  that 
could  be  learned  from  the  studio  which  had  produced 
the  film  was  the  telephone  number  of  Miss  Benson's 
agent  in  New  York  City.  A  nearly  hysterical  long 
distance  call  elicited  the  information  that  Miss  Ben- 
son might  be  at  her  ranch  50  miles  inland  from 
Santa  Barbara,  California. 

Finally,  she  was  tracked  down  through  Informa- 
tion. Yes,  a  telephone  was  listed  for  a  Sally  Benson 
residing  near  Santa  Barbara.  But  it  had  been  dis- 
connected. She  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  at  her 
retreat. 

Despair  pervaded  the  CBS  Playhouse  on  Vine 
Street.   There  was  one  wild  (Continued  on  page  84) 


Robert  Taylor,  Mr.  Keighley  and  Katharine  Hepburn  ready 
to  go  on  "Undercurrent."  Note  Oscar,  the  monkey-puzzle 
arrangement  between  the  stars;  he — or  it — is  there  to  be 
clutched,  poked  and  even  sat  on  by  tense  performers,  if  any. 


1945  .  .  .  Ray  Milland,  Ginger  Rogers  and  all  the 
glamor  that  went  with  tuneful  "Lady  in  the  Dark." 


A\ 


1935  .  .  .  the  late  Lupe  Velez  and  Santos  Ortega, 
now  a  familiar  radio  actor,  in  "Broken  Wing.'' 


Thete  reminiicenKi  ot  Lux 
Radio  Theatre  are  written 
for  Radio  Mirror  by  the  pro- 
r-hoit  of  the  program, 
which  ia  heard  Mondays  at 
9  P.M.  EST,  on  CBS  ■ 


imam 


Past  and  present,  the  veteran  Radio  Theatre  is 


IF  a  train  does  not  pull  out  of  a  depot  on  schedule 
it  pulls  out  after  schedule.  If  a  bus  lags  behind  its 
timetable,  it  is  not  removed  from  the  road.  If  a 
passenger  plane  does  not  take  off  on  time,  it  takes 
off  late.  And  if  a  ship  does  not  sail  the  day  of  an- 
nouncement, another  day  will  do. 

In  virtually  every  activity  involving  human  effort— 
on  land,  in  the  air  and  on  sea,  if  you  please — there 
is  a  second  chance  or  a  late  start.  In  my  nearly  three 
years  as  producer  and  host  of  the  Lux  Theatre,  J 
have  learned  that  radio — live  radio,  such  as  Lux,  of 
course — is  a  breathtaking  exception  to  the  rule  of 
margin  of  error. 

Never  was  it  more  painfully  apparent  than  on  the 
day,  three  hours  before  airfime,  when  it  was  dis- 
covered that  the  permission  of  author  Sally  Benson 
had  not  been  obtained  for  adaptation  of  "Sunday 
Dinner  for  a  Soldier." 

It  was  too  late  even  to  mimeograph  a  new  script, 
let  alone  time  to  rewrite  another  motion  picture  for 


at 


nsible  for  some  of  radio's  most  glittering  moments 


radio  presentation.  Already  there  had  been  five  re- 
hearsals, aggregating  700  man  hours  of  preparation, 
as  was  the  custom  on  the  most  rehearsed  dramatic 
show  on  the  air. 

Somewhere  in  the  United  States  was  Sally  Benson, 
the  one  person  who  could  authorize  the  announced 
broadcast.  Just  where,  nobody  knew.  The  best  that 
could  be  learned  from  the  studio  which  had  produced 
the  film  was  the  telephone  number  of  Miss  Benson's 
agent  in  New  York  City.  A  nearly  hysterical  long 
distance  call  elicited  the  information  that  Miss  Ben- 
son might  be  at  her  ranch  50  miles  inland  from 
Santa  Barbara,  California. 

Finally,  she  was  tracked  down  through  Informa- 
tion. Yes,  a  telephone  was  listed  for  a  Sally  Benson 
residing  near  Santa  Barbara.  But  it  had  been  dis- 
connected. She  did  not  wish  to  be  disturbed  at  her 
retreat. 

Despair  pervaded  the  CBS  Playhouse  on  Vine 
Street.  There  was  one  wild  (Continued  on  page  84) 


1937  .  .  .  Janet  Gayjior,  Robert  Montgomery  in  n 

production  of  the  record-making  "A  Star  is  Born." 


.  Ray  Milland,  Ginger  Rogers  and  alt  the 
that  went  with  tuneful  "Lady  in  the  Dark." 


Robert  Taylor,  Mr.  Keighley  ond  Katharine  Hepburn  ready 
lo  go  on  "Undercurrent."  Note  Oscar,  the  m  on  key -puis  te 
arrangement  between  the  stars;  In.- — or  it — is  there  to  be 
clutched,  poked  and  even  eat  on  hy  tense  performers,  if  any. 


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Without  Radio  Mirror,  you'd 

have  as  much  trouble  getting  into 

this  studio  as  you  would 

have  getting  into  Fort  Knox 


Studio    audiences    get   a   pre-broadcast   show,    too. 

IF  YOU  were  visiting  in  Hollywood,  Sunday 
afternoon  would  probably  find  you  lined  up 
with  hundreds  of  others  at  the  NBC  studios, 
trying  to  get  in  to  see  the  Jack  Benny  Show. 
Unfortunately,  only  350  lucky  folks  can  have 
this  privilege  every  week  (that's  all  the  studio 
seats)  so  even  if  you  were  on  the  spot  your 
chances  would  be  -small.  However,  Radio  Mir- 
ror won't  let  you  be  stopped  by  mere  time-and- 
space  limitations;  with  these  pages  we  whisk 
you  past  the  crowds,  through  the  great  double 
doors,  into  the  silver-walled  hush  of  the  studio, 
where  you  choose  for  yourself  among  the 
maroon-upholstered  seats.  It's  about  3:30  P.M. 
at  this  point,  half  an  hour  before  air  time  (4  PST, 
7  EST)  but  you're  not  too  early;  you're  just  in 
time  for  the  pre-broadcast  show  with  which 
the  Benny  cast  warms-up  itself  and  the  audience 
before  the  "On  the  Air"  signal  turns  red. 


No  Btone  is  left  unturned  if  there  might  be 
something  fanny  underneath  it — even  the  com- 
mercials,   as     song     by    the     Sportsmen,    amuse. 


RHHH^BBBHMM 


Benny  made  them  funny:  Dennis  Day  (1)  started 
out  as  a  singer;  Don  Wilson  (r)  an  announcer; 
Mary      Livingstone      (seated)      as      Jack's      wife. 


35 


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i  •  s 


»  g  i 


-  Is 


« 


5S. 


3  j  E 


J  o  S  J 


JmiSii 


Without  Radio  Mirror,  you'd 

have  as  much  trouble  getting  into 

this  studio  as  you  would 

have  getting  into  Fort  Knox 


Studio   audiences    get   a   pre-broadcast    show,    loo. 

IF  YOU  were  visiting  in  Hollywood,  Sunday 
afternoon  would  probably  find  you  lined  up 

with  hundreds  of  others  at  the  NBC  studios, 
trying  to  get  in  to  see  the  Jack  Benny  Show. 
Unfortunately,  only  350  lucky  folks  can  have 
this  privilege  every  week  (that's  all  the  studio 
seats)  so  even  if  you  were  on  the  spot  your 
chances  would  be  small.  However,  Radio  Mir- 
ror won't  let  you  be  stopped  by  mere  time-and- 
space  limitations;  with  these  pages  we  whisk 
you  past  the  crowds,  through  the  great  double 
doors,  into  the  silver-walled  hush  of  the  studio, 
where  you  choose  for  yourself  among  the 
maroon-upholstered  seats.  It's  about  3:30  P.M. 
Jt  this  point,  half  an  hour  before  air  time  (4  PST, 

EST)  but  you're  not  too  early;  you're  just  in 

me  for  the  pre-broadcast  show  with  which 
Benny  cast  warms-up  itself  and  the  audience 

fore  the  "On  the  Air"  signal  turns  red. 


No  Bione  is  leu  unturned  if  there  might  be 
something  fanny  underneath  it— even  the  com* 
mereials,    aa    sung    by    the    Sportsmen,    amuse. 


Benny  made  them  fonoy:  Dennis  Day  (1)  started 
out  as  a  singer;  Don  Wilson  (r)  an  announcer; 
Mary      Livingstone      (seated)      as      Jack's      wife. 


ITH 


Young  Ellen  Brown  comes  to  terms  with  a  fundamental  truth : 
a  woman  without  love — no  matter  how  busy,  how  useful  she  is— is  living  only  half  a  life 


2.  Nothing,  Ellen  discovered,  is  more  necessary  to  a  lonely, 
confused  woman  than  a  friend  she  can  wholeheartedly  trust. 
She  has  such  a  friend  in  shrewd,  lovable  Uncle  Josh,  a 
farmer  whose  advice  has  helped  her  through  many  bad  times. 


3.  One  of  the  bad  times  was  when  ardent  Dr.  Peter  Tun 
awakened  love  Ellen  had  thought  she  would  never  feel  aga 
But,  believing  that  Mark  and  Janey  would  suffer  if 
accepted    the    new-  life  "Peter    offered,    Ellen    sent    him    aw 


IN  this  backward  look  at  the 
exciting  moments  in  Young 
Widder  Brown's  life,  you  will  find, 
just  as  they  are  heard  on  the  air: 

Florence  Freeman  as Ellen  Brown 

Ned  Wever Anthony  Loring 

Marilyn  Erskine Janey  Brown 

Vrline  Blackburn Barbara  Storm 

Alexander  Scourby .  ._ Herbert  Temple 

Dorothy  Francis Victoria  Loring 

Tom  Hoier Uncle  Josh 

Alice  Your m  an Maria  Hawkins 

Young  Widder  Brown,  con- 
ceived and  produced  by  Frank 
and  Anne  Hummert,  is  heard 
Mondays  through  Fridays  at  4: 45 
P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


t.  Then  wealthy,  glamorous  Herbert  Temple  tried  to  sea 
the  wall  Ellen  had  built  around  her  heart.  Security,  fo 
tune,  love  lay  at  Ellen's  feet — but  once  again  the  childre 
fearful   of   sharing   their  mother   with    a   "stranger."   trinmphe 

37 


ELLEN  BROWNS 

TEA  ROOM 


X 


THROll 


Young  Ellen  Brown  o 


a  woman  without  love — no  matter  how  busy   h 


omes  to  terms  with  a  fundamental  truth: 


°w  "seful  she  is— is  living  only  half  a  life 


H 


"^"r^ 


2.  Nothing,  Ellen  discovered,  is  more  necessary  to  a  lonely. 
confused  woman  than  a  friend  she  can  wholeheartedly  trust. 
She  has  such  a  friend  in  shrewd,  lovable  Uncle  Josh,  ;i 
farmer  whose  advice  has  helped  her   through  many  bad  times. 


i-  One  of  the  bad  time*  was  when  ardent  Dr.  PeOU  Tun 
awakened  love  Ellen  bad  thought  sh«-  would  never  f.-rl  Rfta 
But,  believing  that  Mark  and  Jnney  would  rnffer  it  j 
accepted    the    new    life    Peter    offered,    Ellen    sent    him    aw. 


1 .  When  her  husband  died,  Ellen  Brown  wag 
left  atone  with  two  children  to  support. 
She  opened  a  lea  room  in  the  little  town 
of  SimpBonville  —  the  tea  room  that  still 
is  her  means  of  livelihood.  Although  a 
young  woman  and  an  attractive  one,  Ellen 
felt  that  romance  was  over  for  her,  that 
her  duty  to  Mark,  her  son,  and  Janey,  her 
daughter,  must  come  before  anything  else. 


IN  this  backward  look  at  the 
exciting  moments  in  Young 
Widder  Brown's  life,  you  will  find, 
just  as  they  are  heard  on  the  air: 

Florence  Freeman  as Ellen  Brown 

Ned  Worn Anthony  Loring 

Marilyn  Er.tmc Janey  Brown 

Arline  Blackburn Barbara  Storm 

Alexander  Scourby .  ._ Herbert  Temple 

Dorothy  Francia Victoria  Loring 

Tom  Hoter Uncle  Joah 

Alice  Yourman Maria  Hawkins 

Young  Widder  Brown,  con- 
ceived and  produced  by  Frank 
and  Anne  Hummert,  is  heard 
Mondays  through  Fridays  at  4: 45 
P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


r.  Then  wealthy,  glamorous  Herbert  Temple  tricil  to  *ca 
the  wall  Ellen  had  built  around  her  heart.  Security,  ft 
tune,  love  lay  at  Ellen's  feet — but  once  again  the  rhildre 
fearful    of    charing    their    mother    wilh    j    "stronger,"    triumph* 

37 


THROUGH   THE    TEARS    WITH 


5.  Whenjbrilliant  Dr.  Anthony  Loring  came  to  Simpson- 
ville's  hospital,  Ellen's  peace  of  mind  underwent  its 
most  serious  threat.  For  she  was  as  passionately  drawn 
to   the   attractive,  eligible  Anthony  as  he  was   to   her. 


^ymm 


6.  After  months  of  indecision,  Ellen  agreed  to  marry 
Anthony.  But  his  dictatorial,  scheming  sister  Victoria, 
who  felt  Anthony  was  wasting  himself  on  Ellen,  found  a 
way  to  stop  the  marriage  just  as  the  ceremony  started. 


8.  Among  the  women  Anthony  attracted  was  Barbara 
Storm.  Knowing  she  could  not  win  him,  Barbara  re- 
venged herself  by  disappearing  after  arranging  circum- 
stances to  make  it  seem  that  Ellen  had  murdered  her. 


9.  Agonizing  months  followed,  as  Ellen  tried  to  clear 
herself  of  a  crime  that  had  never  been  committed.  Even- 
tually the  truth  emerged;  Barbara  was  found  and  de- 
clared insane.  In  a  sanitarium,  she  still  plots  vengeance. 


38 


.^-^_ 


7.  So  relieved  were  Ellen's  two  children,  Mark  and  Janey,  that  their  mother  had  not  been 
"taken"  from  them  by  marriage  that  Ellen  was  almost  glad  her  wedding  plans  had  fallen 
through.  Though  she  offered  to  release  Anthony  from  their  engagement,  he  insisted  that 
he  would  wait,  for  he  believes  that  some  day  Mark  and  Janey  will  accept  him  as  a  stepfather. 


10.  Ellen,  as  well  as  Anthony,  had  admirers.  One  was  a 
young  lawyer,  Johnny  Brent.  But  Ellen  did  not  need 
well-meaning,  gossipy  Maria  Hawkins  to  point  out  that 
as  a  husband,  Johnny  might  not  be  a  very  wise  choice. 


11.  No,  Ellen  is  certain  that  if  any  man  is  right  for  her, 
it  is  Anthony.  Troubled  and  incomplete  as  their  rela- 
tionship must  be  for  the  present,  they  look  forward 
hopefully   to    the   richer   life   which    the   future    offers. 


39 


"As  if  'Blondie'  weren't  busy   enough,  she  had 
Cleo  Kerley  in  to  give  her  expert  food  lessons." 


"I  wouldn't  know  what  to  do  if  I  couldn't  hurry  home  from  school, 
swear  Mother  to  secrecy,  and  tell  her  everything  that's  on  my  mind." 


MY  mother  has  a  variety  of  names.  Socially  she 
is  Mrs.  Robert  S.  Sparks.  Professionally  she  is 
Miss  Penny  Singleton.  But.  mostly  she  is 
known  by  the  name  of  an  empty-headed  radio 
character  which  she  plays  over  NBC  every 
Wednesday  at  8:00  P.M.  EST  (5:00  PST), 
Blondie  Bumstead. 

My  mother  has  a  variety  of  accomplishments. 
One  afternoon,  for  instance,  when  I  was  sick  in 
bed  with  a  cold,  and  feeling  doubly  miserable  be- 
cause the  afternoon  was  so  dark  and  stormy,  she 
came  to  my  room  with  paper  and  pencil  and  sug- 
gested that  we  write  a  poem  about  the  weather. 

Perhaps  some  of  my  friends  wouldn't  be  inter- 
ested in  passing  time  striving  for  rhyme,  but  I've 
always  been  around  people  who  have  sort  of  a 
literary  approach  to  life,  so  it  seemed  like  a  fine 
idea. 

I  didn't  turn  out  anything  it  would  give  anyone 
the  least  pleasure  to  remember,  but  Mother 
outdid  herself  as  usual.    This  is  what  she  wrote: 


By 

DOROTHY 
GRACE 
SPARKS 


Dear  little  rain  drops 

Falling  from  the  skies, 

Are  you  tears  of  happiness 

From  the  angels'  eyes? 

Do  you  to  us  a  message  bring? 

Clinging  to  each  earthly  thing 

Seen  and  yet  unseen? 

Must  mortals  to  the  unknown  land 

Journey  on,  to  understand? 

I  don't  know  another  girl  my  age  who  has  a 
poetry-writing  mother  and  a  mother  who  is  also 
an  actress,  a  singer,  an  equestrienne,  a  fashion 
expert,  a  child  psychologist,  a  postcard  painter,  a 
stamp  collector,  a  button  collector,  a  quick  change 
artist,  and  the  source  of  a  million  laughs. 

You  might  think  all  these  interests  would  keep 
Penny  Singleton  very  busy.  They  don't.  She  is 
always  looking  around  for  something  else  to  do. 

For  instance:  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  keep  a 
maid,  so  Mother  decided  (Continued  on  page  92) 


A  growing-up  daughter  is  likely  to  be  her  mother's  severest  critic. 

But  Penny  Singleton  Sparks,  weighed  by  young  Dorothy  Grace,  is  found 


perfect 


40 


IVnny  Singleton,  an  Blondie.  in  heard  Wednesday*  at  8:00  P.  M.  KST,  on  NBC 


"Daddy  brought  hamburgers  home  for  fun,  but  he 
had  to  admit  the  cooking  lessons  showed  results." 


"Daddy  says  Mother  has  enough  energy  to  run  a 
power  plant.  She's  always  improving  something!" 


MV  f/W0W£  MOT+lfR 


"Aa    if     Blondie'   weren't   bmj   enough,   she   bad 
Cleo  Kerley  in  lo  give  her  expert  food  lei, on. .- 


-Daddy  brought  hamburger,  home  (or  fun.  but  hr 
had  to  admit  the  rooking  lr-,„n.  .hoard  result. ." 


I]  -    Molhrr   I 
BOanat  plant.  She",  al*. 


ou.h  r 

upr«i,  ii 


MV  f^Vowe  Menn£R 


wouldn't  know  What  10  do  if  I  ronldn't  hurry  home  from  school, 

.„,■.,,  Mother,  i«  leciocy,  and  loll  an  everything  that'i  on  m>  rotod." 


MY  mother  has  a  variety  of  names.  Socially  she 
is  Mrs.  Robert  S.  Sparks.  Professionally  she  is 
Miss  Penny  Singleton.  But  mostly  she  is 
known  by  the  name  of  an  empty-headed  radio 
character  which  she  plays  over  NBC  every 
Wednesday  at  8:00  P.M.  EST  (5:00  PST), 
Blondie  Bumstead, 

My  mother  has  a  variety  of  accomplishments. 
Due  afternoon,  for  Instance,  when  I  was  sick  in 
bed  with  B  cold,  and  feeling  doubly  miserable  be- 
cause the  afternoon  was  so  dark  and  stormy,  she 
,  .mi.  In  mv  room  With  paper  and  pencil  and  sug- 
gested that  we  write  a  poem  about  the  weather. 

Perhaps  some  of  my  Extends  wouldn't  be  inter- 
ested In  passing  time  striving  for  rhyme,  but  I've 
always  been  around  people  who  have  sort  of  a 
i  approach  to  life,  SO  it  seemed  like  a  fine 
idea. 

1  didn't  turn  out  anything  it  would  give  anyone 

tin-    least     pleasure     to     remember,    but    Mother 
outdid  herself  as  usual.    Tins  is  what  she  wrote: 


ktolba 

'-n'l    tOO    i I|    f0l 

I  ,,iu  in'    ill.,  u it,    w. 


B> 

DOROTHY 
GRACE 
SPARKS 


Dear  little  rain  drops 

Falling  from  the  skies. 

Are  you  tears  of  happiness 

From  the  angels'  eyes? 

Do  you  to  us  a  message  bring? 

Clinging  to  each  earthly  thing 

Seen  and  yet  unseen? 

Must  mortals  to  the  unknown  land 

Journey  on,  to  understand? 

I  don't  know  another  girl  my  age  who  lias is 
poetry-writing  mother  and  a  mother  who  is  also 
an  actress,  a  singer,  an  equestrienne,  a  fashion 
expert,  a  child  psychologist,  a  postcard  painter,  a 
stamp  collector,  a  button  collector,  a  quick  change 
artist,  and  the  source  of  a  million  laughs. 

You  might  think  all  these  interests  would  Seej 
Penny  Singleton  very  busy.    They  don't.  She 
always  looking  around  for  something  else  to     _ 

For  instance:   it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  keep 
maid,  so  Mother  decided  (Continued  on  )>"<Jt  •- 


\  growing-up  daughter  is  likely  to  be  her  mother's  severest  critic. 

Hut  Pennj  Singleton  Sparks,  weighed  by  young  Dorotltj  Grace,  is  found  .  •  •  !"''  " 


Arthur  Lake,  as  Dag-wood,  is  heard  Wednesdays  on  tt»e  Blondie  program,  8:00  P.M.  EST,  NBC. 


Home  comforts  arc  especially  important  to  Arthur  and  Pat. 


Arthur  built  the  barbecue,  but  the  whole  family  works  at  it. 


^A 


_ 


^-£; 


N 


HOUSING  crisis?  What's  that? 
Now  before  you  start  throwing  things,  let  me 
explain.  I  know  the  Arthur  Lakes  of  Santa  Mon- 
ica, California,  are  not  the  only  family  in  America 
who  have  been  struggling  with  the  roof  over  the  head 
problem.  And  I  know  a  lot  of  other  families  haven't 
found  any  solution  yet. 

We  wouldn't  have  either — except  that  we  were  des- 
perate enough  to  take  desperate  measures.  We  bought 
a  haunted  house! 

We  began  to  get  frantic  about  a  year  ago.  Pat  and 
the  kids  and  I  had  been  very  comfortably  settled,  thank 
you,  in  a  pleasant  little  house — strictly  in  the  Dagwood 
tradition,  short  on  the  closets  but  plenty  of  charm — on 
the  rim  of  Santa  Monica  canyon  overlooking  the  Pacific. 

Everything  was  ducky  until  the  family  began  to  grow. 
Nothing  for  the  columnists  mind  you — Marion  Rose  is 
four  now  and  Arthur  Patrick  is  almost  six,  and  we  have 
no  plans  for  more  Winchell  items — but  just  people. 

Nice  people,  people  we  like.  But  people  need  bed- 
rooms and  a  chance  at  a  bathroom  and  some  of  those 
danged  closets. 

First,  Pat's  father  fell  sick  and  we  brought  him  to 
our  house.  That  meant  nurses,  and  Pat's  stepmother, 
and  a  defiant  old  bull  dog  Pat  gave  her  dad  for  a  present 
several  years  ago. 

The  skipper  of  our  boat,  "The  Blondie,"  came  back 
from  the  Army,  homeless,  and  moved  in  with  us  with  his 
wife  and  his  daughter,  Jeannie,  who  is  four  and  a  great 


pal  for  Marion  Rose.  Then  we  got  a  new  housekeeper 
who  came  equipped  with  another  child,  this  one  a  little 
boy  just  right  for  a  playmate  for  A.  P. 

It  got  very  noisy.  We  began  to  go  to  our  meals  in 
shifts.  It  began  to  look  as  though  we'd  better  think 
about  moving.   But  where,  in  1947? 

Then,  one  evening  when  Pat  and  I  were  sitting  on 
the  terrace  waiting  for  our  turn  at  the  victuals,  we  hit 
upon  the  great  idea.  Smack  across  the  canyon,  the  dead 
eyes  of  a  half  hundred  dark  windows  stared  at  us  from 
a  big,  old,  empty  house.   About  the  size  of  a  nice  hotel. 

We  had  lived  in  our  house  for  five  years  and  had 
never  seen  a  light  in  the  place. 

"Look,"  I  said  to  Pat,  pointing. 

"Ummmh,"  she  replied  unenthusiastically. 

"Well,  we  could  go  and  see  it,"  I  went  on.  "What 
could  we  lose?" 

"Our  heads,"  she  said.    Practical  Pat. 

I  began  checking  the  next  day,  just  the  same.  There 
were  practical  points  on  my  side,  too. 

I  drove  by  first — couldn't  see  much.  The  place  was 
surrounded  by  a  six-foot-high,  three-foot-thick  wall 
overgrown  with  burned  up  ivy  and  half  dead  moss. 
Through  a  wrought  iron  gate  across  the  driveway,  I 
could  see  the  house  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  a  mam- 
moth thing  with  vaulted  windows  like  a  church,  giant 
archways,  a  tower  thrown  in  for  luck. 

Well,  there  would  be  room  enough.  .  . 

I  checked  some  more.  A  real  (Continued  on  page  101) 


•House  of -haw Ness 


Arthur  Lake  needed  a  roof  for  his  family.    It  didn't 
even  matter  that  the  roof  he  found  leaked  .  .  .  and  sheltered  a  ghost,  too 

By  ARTHUR  LAKE 


With  all  this  magnificence  came  one  drawback;  a  ghost. 
But    the    Lakes    felt    one    more    wouldn't    matter    .    .    . 


•.♦.♦ 
♦» 
•.♦.• 


Il 


^M 

^       fr, 

Xlr*Z&*& 

M 


,  ..  D^wood.  U  h«*H  Wedn-d-T" 


on  i  tve  Bloodl' 


.SiQOP.M.  EST.  NBC. 


HOUSING  crisis?  What's  that? 
Now  before  you  start  throwing  things,  let  me 
explain.  I  know  the  Arthur  Lakes  of  Santa  Mon- 
ica, California,  are  not  the  only  family  in  America 
who  have  been  struggling  with  the  roof  over  the  head 
problem.  And  1  know  a  lot  of  other  families  haven't 
found  any  solution  yet. 

We  wouldn't  have  either — except  that  we  were  des- 
perate enough  to  take  desperate  measures.  We  bought 
a  haunted  house! 

We  began  to  get  frantic  about  a  year  ago.  Pat  and 
the  kids  and  I  had  been  very  comfortably  settled,  thank 
you,  in  a  pleasant  little  house — strictly  in  the  Dagwood 
tradition,  short  on  the  closets  but  plenty  of  charm — on 
the  rim  of  Santa  Monica  canyon  overlooking  the  Pacific. 

Everything  was  ducky  until  the  family  began  to  grow. 
Nothing  for  the  columnists  mind  you — Marion  Rose  is 
four  now  and  Arthur  Patrick  is  almost  six,  and  we  have 
no  plans  for  more  Winchell  items — but  just  people. 

Nice  people,  people  we  like.  But  people  need  bed- 
rooms and  a  chance  at  a  bathroom  and  some  of  those 
danged  closets. 

First,  Pat's  father  fell  sick  and  we  brought  him  to 
our  house.  That  meant  nurses,  and  Pat's  stepmother, 
and  a  defiant  old  bull  dog  Pat  gave  her  dad  for  a  present 
several  years  ago. 

The  skipper  of  our  boat,  "The  Blondie,"  came  back 
from  the  Army,  homeless,  and  moved  in  with  us  with  his 
wife  and  his  daughter,  Jeannie,  who  is  four  and  a  great 


pal  for  Marion  Rose.  Then  we  got  a  new  housekeeper 
who  came  equipped  with  another  child,  this  one  a  little 
boy  just  right  for  a  playmate  for  A.  P. 

It  got  very  noisy.  We  began  to  go  to  our  meals  in 
shifts.  It  began  to  look  as  though  we'd  better  think 
about  moving.   But  where,  in  1947? 

Then,  one  evening  when  Pat  and  I  were  sitting  on 
the  terrace  waiting  for  our  turn  at  the  victuals,  we  hit 
upon  the  great  idea.  Smack  across  the  canyon,  the  dead 
eyes  of  a  half  hundred  dark  windows  stared  at  us  from 
a  big,  old,  empty  house.   About  the  size  of  a  nice  hotel 

We  had  lived  in  our  house  for  five  years  and  had 
never  seen  a  light  in  the  place. 

"Look,"  I  said  to  Pat,  pointing. 

"Ummmh,"  she  replied  unenthusiastically. 

"Well,  we  could  go  and  see  it,"  I  went  on.  "What 
could  we  lose?" 

"Our  heads,"  she  said.   Practical  Pat. 

I  began  checking  the  next  day,  just  the  same.  There 
were  practical  points  on  my  side,  too. 

I  drove  by  first — couldn't  see  much.  The  place  was 
surrounded  by  a  six-foot-high,  three -foot -thick  wall 
overgrown  with  burned  up  ivy  and  half  dead  moss. 
Through  a  wrought  iron  gate  across  the  driveway,  I 
could  see  the  house  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away,  a  mam- 
moth thing  with  vaulted  windows  like  a  church,  giant 
archways,  a  tower  thrown  in  for  luck. 

Well,  there  would  be  room  enough.  .  . 

I  checked  some  more.  A  real  (Continued  on  page  101) 


H00SE  OfH0fW£SS 


ItukunJ^uu 


THANKSGIVING  DAY  .  .  .  1948 

Radio  Mirror's  Prize 'Poem 

Not  a  mere  feast  day ...  let  this  not  be  that .  . . 
But  one  of  thanks,  both  simple  and  sincere, 
That  God  has  brought  us  to  the  harvest  time  . . . 
The  wintry  edge  of  still  another  year. 
Not  a  mere  feast  day,  given  to  gluttony  .  .  . 
But,  rather,  one  of  asking  God  to  bless 
Our  future  days  while  praising  Him  for  His 
"Merciful  dealing  in  the  wilderness"  .  .  . 
To  use  the  very  words  the  Pilgrims  used 
That  First  Thanksgiving  Day  .  .  .  our  world, 

ihdeed, 
Being  a  wilderness,  more  vast  than  theirs, 
Of  fear  and  selfishness  and  hate  and  greed. 
Not  a  mere  feast  day  .  . .  but  a  day  of  prayer 
Before  all  else  ...  of  heart-meant  prayer  and 

praise 
That  God  has  been  a  Lantern  to  our  feet 
And  so  will  be  down  all  the  coming  days. 

.  — Violet  Alleyn  Storey 


POPCORN  MAN 

He  sets  his  white  cart  where  its  brilliant  light 

Will  make  a  little  island  in  the  night. 

Let  others  shout  their  goods  with  raucous  cries. 

Skilled  in  long  years  of  peddling,  he  is  wise 

To  let  his  wares  speak  for  themselves.  He  goes 

By  the  subtler  allurement  of  the  nose. 

Calmly  oblivious  to  all  the  din. 

The  popcorn-man  scoops  fluffy"  kernels  in 

White    paper    sacks,    with    steady    practiced 

hand. 
Pretending  not  to  see  the  hungry  stand. 
Mouths   watering,   coins   clutched   in   waiting 

fingers. 
Then,  with  a  dignified  finesse,  he  lingers 
Over  each  purchase,  careful  to  a  fault. 
Pouring  hot  butter  through,  shaking  the  salt. 
He  plays  his  nightly  role,  sure  of  his  fame. 
They   are   the   hovering   moths   to   his   bright 

flame. 

—Esther  Baldwin  York 


THE  ETERNAL  RIDDLE 

Side  by  side,  though  leagues  apart, 
He  cannot  read  her  woman-heart. 
Yet  he  has  wisdom— for  a  man- 
He  knows  there's  no  one  else  who 


-Isla  Paschal  Richardson 


STORM  CENTRE 

When  Grandpa's  temper  rose,  the  dishes 
danced 

Like  dervishes  upon  the  startled  table; 

Fido  skulked  out,  his  tail  beween  his  legs; 

We  children  kept  as  quiet  as  we  were  able. 

But  the  storm  soon  ended,  and  the  evening- 
hours 

Regained  their  poise,  jogged  to  a  gentle  pace; 

The  dog  slept  near  the  round,  red-bellied 
stove, 

And  Grandma  calmly  tatted  or  made  lace; 

For  Time  had  taught  her  this  wise  epigram: — 

Ignored,  the  blustering  lion  becomes  a  lamb! 

— Pauline  Havard 


UNINHIBITED 

Today,  I  saw  a  bright  green 
cloud, 
An  elephant  in  pink, 
A  cow  togged  out  in  wild  red 
shorts — 
Oh!    No!    I  never  drink! 

A   hen    displayed    a   suit   of 
blue 
Beside  a  purple  pig. 
And   pumpkins   on  an   apple 
tree 
Made    my   old   eyes    grow 
big; 


I  blinked  them  twice  and  held 
my  breath. 
And  dared  another  look — 
Relax,    my    friend;    I'd    only 
found 
My    three-year-old's    paint 
book. 
— Elizabeth  Chapman 


W   A 


. 

. 

<*KT^  ,S 

■^    jflMta^ 

"MI*'v**',J4j* 

SS3KN* 


HE   WIND   SERPENS.   THE    DViS   DRAW    IN.   NOW    If   THE   TIME   WHEN    HEARTH 


WITHOUT  WORDS 

Over    the   wind-lashed   sand   I   walk   alone; 
Between  ns  lies  the  still  unfathomed  sea, 
And  there  is  nothing  but  the  heart's  mute 
call 

To  bring  your  voice  to  me. 

My  thoughts  go  outward  bound  to  that  far 
shore 
From  which  you  climb  to  heights  I  can- 
not know, 
Since  all  the  moments  that  we  held  so  dear 
Were   lost  long,  long   ago/ 

A  wave  creeps  to  my  feet:  a  gull  drifts  down, 
So   close  its   silver  wing   could  touch  my 
cheek. 
Oh,  is  it  only  thus  you  answer  now, — 

Now  that  you  cannot  speak? 

— Eugenia  T.  Finn 


JOURNEY'S  END 

(To  a  Young  Repatriated  Soldier) 
The  journey  which  began  five  years  ago 
Is  ended,  and  the  cycle  is  complete. 
Now  you  are  home  .  .  .  home  to  beloved  hills 
Which  once  have  known  the  imprint  of  your 

feet 
Tracking  the  grouse,  the  rabbit  and  the  fox; 
Which  loitered  where  the  huckleberries  made 
The    hillside,    and    your    eyes,    as    blue    as 

heaven. 
Where  carefree  laughter  was  a  serenade 
To    summer's    gifts.     The    secret    swimming 

hole; 
The  hidden  shack  high  on  a  sunlit  hill 
Where  you  have  dreamed   a  half-awakened 

dream, 
Or  lain  to  watch  the  white  shad-bushes  spill 
Their  misty  coins  against  the  gathering  dusk. 
These  hills  shall  hold  the  cameo  of  youth 
In   paths   starred   through   the   scarlet   pim- 
pernel. 
We  leave  you  cradled  in  their  royal  dust. 
Taps  sound  their  poignant  notes  .  .  .  sleep » 
well!    Sleep  well! 

— Eunice  Mildred  LonCoske 


t£z& 


± 

J& 


LIFE'S  STAGE 


Ah.  Petulant  One, 
Are  you  sure  we  have  the  time 
For  these  small  scenes — 
Scenes  with  the  downcast  eye. 
The  frown,  the  sigh. 

They  take  from  Spring 
Her  sweet  perfume 
What  then  from  us — 
Who  now  have  Summer's 
bloom? 

Open  then  your  heart,  my  love. 

And  read  the  lines — 

That  cleanse  the  hurt 

Why  let  it  there  abide — inside 

We  who  should  love  and  laugh 

away 
The  few  scenes  left 
We.  have  to  play. 

— Nancy  Cavanagh 


By  TED  MALONE 

Be  sure  to  listen  to  Ted 
Malone's  morning  program, 
Monday  through  Friday 
at    11:30    EST,    over    ABC. 


FOOLISH  VIRGIN 

Sue  made  a  fool  out  of  her  man, 

She  was  so   honey-mouthed   and   cool. 

Much    cleverer    was    Maryanne — 
She  made  a  man  out  of  her  fool. 

— Florence    Denison 


RADIO  MIRROR  will  pay  fifty  dollar* 

for  the  best  original  poem  sent  in  each  month  by  a  reader.  Five  dollars 
will  be  paid  for  each  other  original  poem  used  on  the  Between  the  Book- 
ends  pages  in  Radio  Mirror.  Limit  poems  to  30  lines,  and  address  to  Ted 
Malone,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y.  When  postage  is  en- 
closed, every  effort  will  be  made  to  return  unused  manuscripts.  This  is 
not  a  contest,  but  an  offer  to  purchase  poetry  for  our  Bookends  pages. 


It 


-&      ~&L 


^Mf* 


i 


-»*/> 


rtMiwlH 


SSMNKt'       M"fv 


►«'i^t,:£v?«3ljr\ 


FIRE5    WARM    THE  BODV    THANKSGIVING    THOUGHTS    WARM    THE  MIND 


THANKSGIVING  DAY 


IJuWtU^lw 


1948 


Radio  Mirror**  rV«»'Peem 
Nol  a  mm  holt  doy . . .  lot  thl»  not  be  thot . . . 
But  one  of  thanks,  both  simple  and  sincere, 
Thot  Ood  Hot  brought  ui  to  the  horvirt  Hms  .  - . 
Th«  wintry  sdg»  of  "ill  aneftier  year. 
Not  a  mora  fooit  day.  giv«n  to  gluttony  .  ■  ■ 
But,  rather,  en*  of  asking  God  to  bltn 
Our  futura  dayt  whll*  pralilng  Him  for  His 
"Merciful  dealing  in  the  wildtrnui"  ■ .  - 
tho  vary  wordt  tho  Pilgrim*  uisd 
Thot  Fint  Thonktgiving  Doy  ...  our  world, 

Indeed, 
Being  a  wilderness,  mora  vait  than  thiln. 
Of  fear  and  selfishness  and  hat*  and  greed. 
Not  a  mora  foast  day  ...  but  a  day  of  prayer 
Before  all  alio  ...  of  heart-meant  prayer  and 

probe 
That  Ood  hoe  bow  •  Urriam  to  oar  foot 
And  10  will  bo  down  all  tho  coming  day*. 

—Violet  AHoyn  Storey 


POPCORN  MAN 
He  sets  his  white  cart  where  its  brilliant  light 
Will  make  a  little  island  in  the  night 
Let  others  shout  their  goods  with  raucous  cries. 
Skilled  in  long  years  of  peddling,  he  is  wise 
To  let  his  wares  speak  for  themselves.  He  goes 
By  the  subtler  allurement  of  the  nose. 
Calmly  oblivious  to  all  the  din. 
The  popcorn-man  scoops  fluffy  kernels  in 
White    paper    sacks,    with    steady    practiced 

hand, 
Pretending  not  to  see  the  hungry  stand. 
Mouths   watering,   coins  clutched   In  waiting 

fingers. 
Then,  with  a  dignified  finesse,  he  lingers 
Over  each  purchase,  careful  to  a  fault. 
Pouring  hot  butter  Ihrou 
Ho  ploys  his  nightly       •    sura  of  -  .  toss* 


THE  ETERNAL  RIDDLE 

Side  by  side,  though  leagues  apart, 
Ho  cannot  read  her  woman-heart. 
Yet  he  hai  wisdom— for  a  man- 
He  knows  there'*  no  one  olio  who 


— Isla  Paschal  R  (chord  n 


STORM  CENTRE 

When    Grandpa's    temper    rose,    the    dish« 

danced 
Like  dervishes  upon  the  startled  table; 
Fido  skulked  out,  his  tail  beween  his  lees- 
We  children  kept  as  quiet  as  we  were  abU 
But  the  storm  soon  ended,  and  the  eveoiDjt- 

hours 
Regained  their  poise,  jogged  to  a  gende  pace; 
The  dog  slept   near   the   round,   red-bellied 

stove, 
And  Grandma  calmly  tatted  or  made  lace; 
For  Time  had  taught  her  this  wise  epigram:^ 
Ignored,  the  blustering  lioo  becomes  a  lamb! 
— Pauline   Havard 


UNINHIBITED 

Today,  I  saw  a  bright  green 

cloud. 

An  elephant  in 

A  cow  togged  out 

shorts — 

Oh!    No!    I  nevr 

A    hen    displayed    a    suit  of 
blue 
Beside  a  purple  pig, 
And  pumpkins  on  an  apple 
tree 
Made    my    old    eyes   grow 
big; 

I  blinked  them  twice  and  held 
my  breath. 
And  dared  ani 
Relax,    my    friend        )    only 
found 
My     three-ye-  paint 

book. 
— Eliiabei  ^pman 


WITHOUT  WORDS 


Over    the    wind-lashed    sand    I    walk    alone- 
Between  as  lies  the  still   □nfathomed  sea. 
And   there   is   nothing  but  the   heart's  mate 
call 

To    bring   your   voice   to   me. 

My  thoughts  go  outward  bound  to  that  far 
shore 
From  which   you   climb   to  heights  I  can- 
not know, 
Since  all  the  moments  that  we  held  so  dear 
Were   lost   long,   long    agoi 

A  wave  creeps  to  my  feet:  a  gull  drifts  down. 
So   close   its   silver  wing   could   touch   m\ 
cheek. 
Oh.  i?  it  only  thus  you  answer  now,— 

Now  that  you  cannot  ipeak? 
—Eugenia  T.   Finn 


JOURNEY'S  END 

(To  a  Young  Repatriated  Soldier) 
The  journey  which  began  five  years  ago 
U  ended,  and  the  cycle  is  complete- 
Now  you  are  home  .  .  .  home  to  beloved  hills 
Which  once  have  known  the  imprint  of  your 

feet 
Tracking  the  gTOUse,  the  rabbit  and  the  fo\ : 
Which  loitered  where  the  huckleberries  made 
The    hillside,    and    your    eyes,    as    blue    as 

heaven. 
Where  carefree  laughter  was  a  serenade 
To   summer's    gifts.     The    secret    swtmmine 

hole; 
The  hidden  shack  high  on  a  sunlit  hill 
Where   you   have   dreamed    a   half-awakened 


*        + 


to  watch  the  white  shad-h 
ibty  coins  against  the  (tathr-. 
ills  shall  hold  the  cameo  oi 
is   starred    through    the    scarlet    pirn- 
re  you  cradled  in  their  royal  dust, 
und   their  poignant  notes 


LIFE'S  STAGE 

Ah,  Petulant  One. 

Are  you  sure  we  have  the  tune 

For  these  small  scenes 

Scenes  with  the  downcast  eve. 
The  frown,  the  sigh. 

Thev  take  from  Spring 
Her  sweet  perfume 

What  then  from  us 

Who  now  hare  Summer's 
bloom? 

Open  then  raw  heart  my  lore. 

And  read  the  aoee— 

That  cleanse  the  hurt 

Why  let  It  there  abide-  Inside 

We  who  should  lore  and  lavas 

The  few  scenes  left 

We  have  to  play. 

— Nancy  Cavanagh 


FOOUSr- 

Sus  mod* 
She  wai 

-   vrsr    *oi 

She  (On 


RADIO  MIRROR  witt pay  fifty  Jaffa 

for  the  best  original  poem  sen' 

will  be  p.> 

ends  pages  in  F 

Mai  one.  Radio    * 

closed,  every  efl 

not   * 


itSdhdua*     «»*•■ 


THE   WIND   <HARPEN>    THE   DA\>   DRAW    IN.   NOVC    IS   THE   TIME   WHEN   HEART-         :'«>   WARM    THE  BODY.    THANKSGIVING   THOUGHTS   WARM    THE  MIND 


■  'Iff  I 


Bill   Slater   has   Bob    Shepard,   Minabess    Lewis,    and   Kenny    Delmar    laughing    as    well   as    guessing    on   his    Charades    Quiz,    Dumont, 
Thurs.    8:30    P.M.    In    a    different    mood,    Sam    Wanamaker    and    Rita    Colton   in  a   scene  from   Henry  V,  on  NBC   Tele  Playhouse. 


THOSE  of  our  readers  who  remember  Gloria 
Swanson  as  one  of  the  most  glamorous  women 
in  America  will  be  glad  to  know  that  Miss  Swan- 
son,  now  a  grandmother  and  as  lovely  as  ever,  can 
be  seen  and  heard  on  television.  Her  program,  The 
Gloria"  Swanson  Hour,  on  every  Wednesday  after- 
noon over  WPIX,  is  done  in  four  segments — enter- 
tainment, cooking,  beauty  and  fashion.  The  well- 
known  decorator  Ormond  Butler  Riblet  assisted  in 
designing  a  "dream  house" — four  rooms,  each  an 
appropriate  background  for  each  part  of  the  show. 
After  studying  the  particular  needs  of  television 
decoration,  Mr.  Riblet  created  small,  important 
groups  within  each  room  to  hold  the  attention  of 
the  audience  and  also  to  present  a  picture  of  perfect 
taste.  For  the  first  phase  of  the  show,  an  interesting 
personality  is  interviewed. .  A  designer  shows  off  his 
latest  creations  in  the  second.  Next,  Pat  Murray, 
fashion  editor,  presents  helpful  beauty  hints.  The 
final  portion,  "Chef's  Holiday,"  features  a  guest 
cooking  expert  who  not  only  offers  helpful  sugges- 
tions but  also  prepares,  on  the  spot,  his  favorite 
dish.  In  short,  Gloria  covers  most  of  the  things 
dearest  to  a  woman's  heart  against  a  perfect  back- 
ground. 

*  *  * 

Practically  everyone  is  interested  in  the  mystery 
of  the  world  of  nature;  but  most  of  us  feel  that 
comprehension  of  such  things  is  beyond  us.  How- 
ever, each  week,  oyer  NBC  television  network,  Dr. 


RADIO        MIRROR 


The  relationship  of  the  earth    (the  head  of  the  nail)   and 
son  (the  basketball)  is  demonstrated  by  Dr.  Roy  Marshall. 


Clamorous  as  ever,  Gloria 
Swanson  charms  her  audience 
on  The  Gloria  Swanson  Hour. 


Roy  Marshall,  astronomer,  curator  of  Fels  Planeta- 
rium, editor,  and  lecturer,  has  proven  that  most  of 
the  fascinating  phenomena  of  nature  can  be  simply 
as  well  as  interestingly  presented.  In  the  most  in- 
formal manner  imaginable,  and  with  the  aid  of 
varied  props,  Dr.  Marshall  cracks  the  shell  of 
scientific  secrets.  Each  week,  he  demonstrates  his 
theory,  that  "Science  can  be  fun,"  by  skillfully  im- 
parting to  his  audience  the  meaning  of  such  terms 
as  "syzygy,"  as  well  as  explaining  to  them  (by 
popping  hard-boiled  eggs  in  and  out  of  a  bottle) 
the  governing  factors  involved  in  air  pressure.  He 
even  ventures  into  the  atomic  mysteries.  Last  sum- 
mer on  the  day  of  the  yearly  meteor  shower  (Au- 
gust 12th),  he  explained  this  happening  on  his 
broadcast,  relating  what  meteors  are,  how  they 
travel  in  space,  and  how  they  fall.  Yes,  indeed, 
science  con  be  fun. 

*  *  » 

Television  is  getting  over  its  growing  pains — this 
is  best  exemplified  by  the  fact  that  the  boners  which 
have  been  driving  technicians  and  actors  crazy  are 
fast  disappearing.  We  know  now,  for  instance,  that 
if  a  scene  calls  for  the  performers  to  eat  ice  cream, 
the  "ice  cream"  had  better  be  mashed  potato  dis- 
guised or  it  will  melt  instantly.  The  stories  of  how 
enterprising  directors  got  around  the  problems 
presented  by  the  heat  of  the  lights  are  becoming 
young  legends.  The  man  who  put  on  his  thinking 
cap  when  the  soap  chips  (Continued  on  page  110) 


_■■■■■■■■■■■■ 
TELEVISION         SECTIO 


Beautiful  Ireene  Wicker,  the  "Singing  Lady,"  enlivens  one 
of  her  dramatic  stories  with  a  song  for  WJZ-TV  audience. 


COAST  to  COAST  i„ 

«i 


*? 


Bill    Slater    has    Bob    Shepard,    Minabess    Lewis,    and    Ke 
Thurs.    8:30    P.M.    Id   a    different    mood,    Sam    Wanamaker 


The  relationship  of  the  earth    (the  head  of  the   nail) 
son  (the  basketball)  is  demonstrated  by  Dr.  Roy  Marshall. 


Delmar    laughing   as   well   as    guessing   on   his    Charades    Quiz,   DnmonL 
and    Rita     Colton    in   a   scene   from    Henry   V,   on   NBC   Tele   Playhouse, 


THOSE  of  our  readers  who  remember  Gloria 
Swanson  as  one  of  the  most  glamorous  women 
in  America  will  be  glad  to  know  that  Miss  Swan- 
son,  now  a  grandmother  and  as  lovely  as  ever,  can 
be  seen  and  heard  on  television.  Her  program,  The 
Gloria"  Swanson  Hour,  on  every  Wednesday  after- 
noon over  WPIX,  is  done  in  four  segments — enter- 
tainment, cooking,  beauty  and  fashion.  The  well- 
known  decorator  Ormond  Butler  Riblet  assisted  in 
designing  a  "dream  house" — four  rooms,  each  an 
appropriate  background  for  each  part  of  the  show. 
After  studying  the  particular  needs  of  television 
decoration,  Mr.  Riblet  created  small,  important 
groups  within  each  room  to  hold  the  attention  of 
the  audience  and  also  to  present  a  picture  of  perfect 
taste.  For  the  first  phase  of  the  show,  an  interesting 
personality  is  interviewed. .  A  designer  shows  off  his 
latest  creations  in  the  second.  Next,  Pat  Murray, 
fashion  editor,  presents  helpful  beauty  hints.  The 
final  portion,  "Chef's  Holiday,"  features  a  guest 
cooking  expert  who  not  only  offers  helpful  sugges- 
tions but  also  prepares,  on  the  spot,  his  favorite 
dish.  In  short,  Gloria  covers  most  of  the  things 
dearest  to  a  woman's  heart  against  a  perfect  back- 
ground. 

Practically  everyone  is  interested  in  the  mystery 
of  the  world  of  nature;  but  most  of  us  feel  that 
comprehension  of  such  things  is  beyond  us.  How- 
ever, each  week,  over  NBC  television  network,  Dr- 


RADIO        MIRROR 


Roy  Marshall,  astronomer,  curator  of  Fels  Planeta- 
rium, editor,  and  lecturer,  has  proven  that  most  of 
the  fascinating  phenomena  of  nature  can  be  simply 
as  well  as  interestingly  presented.  In  the  most  in- 
formal manner  imaginable,  and  with  the  aid  of 
varied  props,  Dr.  Marshall  cracks  the  shell  of 
scientific  secrets.  Each  week,  he  demonstrates  his 
theory,  that  "Science  can  be  fun,"  by  skillfully  im- 
parting to  his  audience  the  meaning  of  such  terms 
as  "syzygy,"  as  well  as  explaining  to  them  (by 
popping  hard-boiled  eggs  in  and  out  of  a  bottle) 
the  governing  factors  involved  in  air  pressure.  He 
even  ventures  into  the  atomic  mysteries.  Last  sum- 
mer on  the  day  of  the  yearly  meteor  shower  (Au- 
gust 12th),  he  explained  this  happening  on  his 
broadcast,  relating  what  meteors  are,  how  they 
travel  in  space,  and  how  they  fall.  Yes,  indeed, 
science  can  be  fun. 

Television  is  getting  over  its  growing  pains — this 
is  best  exemplified  by  the  fact  that  the  boners  which 
have  been  driving  technicians  and  actors  crazy  are 
fast  disappearing.  We  know  now,  for  instance,  that 
if  a  scene  calls  for  the  performers  to  eat  ice  cream, 
the  "ice  cream"  had  better  be  mashed  potato  dis- 
guised or  it  will  melt  instantly.  The  stories  of  how 
enterprising  directors  got  around  the  problems 
presented  by  the  heat  of  the  lights  are  becoming 
young  legends.  The  man  who  put  on  his  thinking 
cap  when  the  soap  chips  (Continued  on  -page  110) 


S    I    0    N         SEC 


Beautiful  Ireer 
of  her  dramati> 


Wicker,  the  "Singing  Lady,"  enlivens  one 
stories  with  n  song  for   WJZTV    audience. 


The    Palace    in    New   York — climax    of    any   two-a-day    career — was    the 
setting   for  the   giant  vaudeville   show  with  which   WJZ-TV  premiered. 


The   premiere   on   Channel   7   proves- 


BEFORE  the  city  was  up,  on  the 
morning  of  August  10,  ABC  engi- 
neers converged  on  the  old  Palace 
Theater  to  set  up  the  complex  equip- 
ment for  the  evening's  great  event — the 
opening  of  New  York's  newest  televi- 
sion station,  WJZ-TV.  Promptly  at  7 
P.M. — appropriately  enough,  for  the 
new  station  comes  in  on  Channel  7 — 
New  York's  Mayor  O'Dwyer  intro- 
duced the  new  station  from  ABC's 
Radio  City  studios,  and  the  WJZ-TV 
cameras  started  covering  the  town. 

They  began  with  Times  Square, 
where  a  parade  dramatizing  the  city's 
growth  during  the  past  50  years  had 
brought  forth  many  striking  relics  of 
the  old  da^s  (one  of  them  is  pictured, 
lower  left).  Back  at  ABC,  several 
programs  made  their  television  debuts. 
But  the  acknowledged  climax  came 
with  the  mammoth  vaudeville  show 
from  the  Palace,  where  stars  from  vaude- 
ville's heydey  joined  forces  to  prove 
that  even  if  vaudeville  was  once  dead, 
television   will   bring   it   back   to   life. 


The  parade  which  preceded  the  opening  harked  nos- 
talgically hack  to  the  old  days,  when  this  was  a  car. 


Among   the  brilliant   conglomeration    of   stars   who 
took  part  was  dancer  Ray  Bolger,  who  acted  as  M.  C. 


48 


RADIO        MIRROR 


if  it  needed  proof — that  vaudeville  is  far  from  dead 


Beatrice   Lillie   tells   a    writer   that   her   first   Palace 
appearance  was  a  $10,000  week  there,  many  years  ago. 


A  battery  of  complicated  equipment  was  arranged  well 
in  advance  of  the  evening  performance  at  the  Palace. 


Singer  Ella   Logan,   dancing  team   Raye   and   Naldi 
enjoy  one  of  the  other  acts  while  waiting  to  go  on. 


Radio's  Maggi  McNellis  looking  her  glamorous  best 
for    her    part   in    the    gala    opening    of    Channel    7. 


Except  for  Henry  Morgan  (1)  this  is  a  group  of  veteran 
vaudevillians:    Gus  Van,  Buck   of   Buck  and   Bubbles. 


EL    E    VISION        SECTION 


49 


1 


m-if 


The   premiere   on   Channel  7 


prov& 


BEFORE  the  city  was  up,  on  the 
morning  of  August  10,  ABC  engi- 
neers converged  on  the  old  Palace 
Theater  to  set  up  the  complex  equip- 
ment for  the  evening's  great  event— the 
opening  of  New  York's  newest  televi- 
sion station,  WJZ-TV.  Promptly  at  7 
P.M. — appropriately  enough,  for  the 
new  station  comes  in  on  Channel  7— 
New  York's  Mayor  O'Dwyer  intro- 
duced the  new  station  from  ABC's 
Radio  City  studios,  and  the  WJZ-TV 
cameras  started  covering  the  town. 

They  began  with  Times  Square, 
where  a  parade  dramatizing  the  city's 
growth  during  the  past  50  years  had 
brought  forth  many  striking  relics  of 
the  old  days  (one  of  them  is  pictured, 
lower  left).  Back  at  ABC,  several 
programs  made  their  television  debuts. 
But  the  acknowledged  climax  came 
with  the  mammoth  vaudeville  show 
from  thePalace,  where  stars  from  vaude- 
ville's heydey  joined  forces  to  prove 
that  even  if  vaudeville  was  once  dead, 
television   will   bring   it   back  to  life. 


if  it  needed  proof — that  vaudeville  is  far  from  dead 


The   Palace   in   New   York — climax   of   any   two-a-day   career — was   the 
setting  for  the  giant  vaudeville  show  with  which  WJZ-TV  premiered. 


The  parade  which  preceded  the  opening  harked  nos- 
talgically hack  to  the  old  days,  when  this  was  a  car. 


Among    the  brilliant    conglomeration    of    stars  who 
took  part  was  dancer  Ray  Bolger,  who  acted  as  M-  C. 


A  hattery  of  complicated  equipment  was  arranged  n 
in  advance  of  the  evening  performance  at  the  Palai 


Beatrice   Lillie   tells   a   writer   that   her   first  Palace 
appearance  was  a  $10,000  week  there,  many  years  ago. 


Singer  Ella   Lognn,  dancing  team   Rnyc   and    EYaldi 
enjoy  one  of  the  other  acta  while  waiting  to  go  on. 


Radio's  Maggi  McNellis  looking  her  glamorous  best 
for    her    part    in    the    gala    opening    of    Channel    7. 


Except  for 
vaudevillii 


iry  Morgan  1 1  l   ihi*  t-  B  uroup  of  veteran 

Gus  Van,  Buck  of  Muck  and  Bobbin. 


^ 


RAVELER 


As  modern  as  1914  is  this  month's 
traveling  school  teacher,  who  swears  by  her 
"Horseless  Carriage"  as  a  vehicle  de  luxe 


»   • 


X 


Ruth  Witman  wouldn't  let  Toniim 


try  t lie  Overland  till  lie  ■swis  b 
protected  in  duster  and  goggle 


^il 


OF  THE  MONTH 


}  NEVER  knew  how  good  those  Good  Old  Days  really 
were  until  Miss  Ruth  Witman  climbed  out  of  her  1914 
Overland  roadster,  dusted  off  her  duster  and  became 
our  Traveler  of  the  Month. 

Though  she's  an  attractive  young  Pennsylvania 
schoolmarm  with  a  manner  as  modern  as  plastic,  she 
brought  with  her  all  of  the  lost  charm  and  begoggled 
adventures  of  the  Tin  Lizzie  era.  And  she  had  me  think- 
ing nostalgically  of  the  days  when  life  was  no  more 
complicated  than  the  gear-shift  on  a  Stanley  Steamer, 
and  things  really  were  merry  in  that  Merry  Oldsmobile. 

You  see,  Ruth  Witman  leads  a  double  life.  From  nine 
to  three  every  day,  she  teaches  Latin  and  French  at 
New  Holland  High  School  in  Goodville,  Lancaster  Coun- 
ty, Pennsylvania.  But  in  the  afternoons  and  evenings — 
except  for  time  spent  marking  papers,  and  teaching  a 
Sunday  School  class — she's  busy  collecting  and  rebuild- 
ing antique  cars.  And  if  the  kids  at  New  Holland  High 
want  to  make  a  hit  with  teacher,  they  pass  up  the  tradi- 
tional apple  and  put  a  nice  monkey  wrench  on  her  desk. 

For  when  that  French  teacher  looks  into  the  motor  of 
an  antiquated  Stutz,  it's  strictly  a  case  of  Je  vous  aime. 
She  loves  old  cars,  and  she'll  travel  around  the  country 
to  find  one,  nurse  it  back  to  health  and  restore  it  to  the 
glory  of  its  road-hogging  youth. 

When  Miss  Witman  stepped  up  to  the  ABC  micro- 
phone   at    our    Welcome    Travelers    broadcast    at    the 


College  Inn  of  the  Hotel  Sherman  in  Chicago,  I  had  no 
idea  that  this  crisp-curled  brunette  would  be  equally 
at  home  in  a  grease  pit.  She  told  me  that  she  was  a 
school  teacher  on  vacation,  and  as  I  often  do  with  our 
guests,  I  asked  how  she  was  traveling. 

Her  answer  came  with  a  perfectly  straight  face,  and  in 
a  matter  of  fact  tone.  She  said: 

'Tm  driving  a  1914  Overland  Roadster — from  Pennsyl- 
vania to  Milwaukee." 

On  Welcome  Travelers  we've  had  Dutch  students  who 
were  hitch-hiking,  a  family  riding  a  tractor,  British 
bicyclists,  even  one  courageous  victim  of  polio  who  was 
pulled  along  on  his  tricycle  by  his  pet  dog — yes,  we  had 
had  almost  every  means  of  locomotion.  But  never  before 
a  car  that  was  supposed  to  have  gone  out  of  commission 
with  Grandpa's  mustache  cup.  So  I  asked  Miss  Witman 
why  she  happened  to  be  riding  around  in  an  auto  built 
before  she  was  even  born.  Her  answer,  I  think,  was 
interesting^-and  another  chapter  in  the  fascinating, 
never-ending  story  of  America  on  the  move. 

"Old  cars,"  Miss  Witman  said,  "are  my  hobby.  They're 
fascinating — and  something  like  a  mystery  story.  You 
search  them  out,  then  you  track  down  original  parts, 
one  by  one,  and  you  recreate,  many  years  later,  a  living 
entity  from  out  of  the  lost  past." 

It  developed  that  Miss  Witman  was  on  her  way  to 
Milwaukee — 1,000  miles  from  (Continued  on  page   98) 


TOMMY 
BARTLITT 


From  the  files  if  Welcome  Travelers  (Mon.-Fri.,  12  N. 
on  ABC)  come  the  stories  which  Tommy  Bartlctt.  the 
program's  M.C.,   retells  each  month  (or  Radio  Mirror. 


51 


T 


'EAYEIER 

As  modern  as  1914  is  this  month's 
traveling  school  teacher,  who  swears  by  her 
"Horseless  Carriage"  as  a  vehicle  de  luxe 


OF  THE  MONTH 


1  NEVER  knew  how  good  those  Good  Old  Days  really 
were  until  Miss  Ruth  Witman  climbed  out  of  her  1914 
Overland  roadster,  dusted  off  her  duster  and  became 
our  Traveler  of  the  Month. 

Though  she's  an  attractive  young  Pennsylvania 
schoolmarm  with  a  manner  as  modern  as  plastic,  she 
brought  with  her  all  of  the  lost  charm  and  begoggled 
adventures  of  the  Tin  Lizzie  era.  And  she  had  me  think- 
ing nostalgically  of  the  days  when  life  was  no  more 
complicated  than  the  gear-shift  on  a  Stanley  Steamer, 
and  things  really  were  merry  in  that  Merry  Oldsmobile. 

You  see,  Ruth  Witman  leads  a  double  life.  From  nine 
to  three  every  day,  she  teaches  Latin  and  French  at 
New  Holland  High  School  in  Goodville,  Lancaster  Coun- 
ty Pennsylvania.  But  in  the  afternoons  and  evenings — 
except  for  time  spent  marking  papers,  and  teaching  a 
Sunday  School  class — she's  busy  collecting  and  rebuild- 
ing antique  cars.  And  if  the  kids  at  New  Holland  High 
want  to  make  a  hit  with  teacher,  they  pass  up  the  tradi- 
tional apple  and  put  a  nice  monkey  wrench  on  her  desk. 

For  when  that  French  teacher  looks  into  the  motor  of 
an  antiquated  Stutz,  it's  strictly  a  case  of  Je  vous  aime. 
She  loves  old  cars,  and  she'll  travel  around  the  country 
to  find  one,  nurse  it  back  to  health  and  restore  it  to  the 
glory  of  its  road-hogging  youth. 

When  Miss  Witman  stepped  up  to  the  ABC  micro- 
phone   at    our    Welcome    Travelers    broadcast    at    the 


College  Inn  of  the  Hotel  Sherman  in  Chicago,  I  had  no 
idea  that  this  crisp-curled  brunette  would  be  equally 
at  home  in  a  grease  pit  She  told  me  that  she  was  n 
school  teacher  on  vacation,  and  as  I  often  do  with  our 
guests,  I  asked  how  she  was  traveling. 

Her  answer  came  with  a  perfectly  straight  face,  and  in 
a  matter  of  fact  tone.  She  said: 

"I'm  driving  a  1914  Overland  Roadster — from  Pennsyl- 
vania to  Milwaukee." 

On  Welcome  Travelers  we've  had  Dutch  students  who 
were  hitch-hiking,  a  family  riding  a  tractor,  British 
bicyclists,  even  one  courageous  victim  of  polio  who  was 
pulled  along  on  his  tricycle  by  his  pet  dog — yes,  we  had 
had  almost  every  means  of  locomotion.  But  never  before 
a  car  that  was  supposed  to  have  gone  out  of  commission 
with  Grandpa's  mustache  cup.  So  I  asked  Miss  Witman 
why  she  happened  to  be  riding  around  in  an  auto  built 
before  she  was  even  born.  Her  answer.  I  think,  WM 
interesting-r-and  another  chapter  in  the  fascinating 
never-ending  story  of  America  on  the  move. 

"Old  cars,"  Miss  Witman  said,  "are  my  hobby.  They're 
fascinating— and  something  like  a  mystery  story.  You 
search  them  out,  then  you  track  down  original  parts, 
one  by  one,  and  you  recreate,  many  years  later,  a  living 
entity  from  out  of  the  lost  past." 

It  developed  that  Miss  Witman  was  on  her  way  to 
Milwaukee — 1,000  miles  from  (Continued  on  page   98) 


By 

TOMMY 

BARTLtTT 


Prom  Ik.  tl~  »l  W.lcomo  Tr.roltr.  (Moo. -CI.,  12  N 
on  ABC)  eomo  Ibo  Honor,  whir*  Tommy  BortUll,  liio 
prolrom'r.  M.C,  roliH,  t«cb  moolh  lot  Hodio  Mirror 


Art,  who  had  no  family  for  many  of  his  youngest 
years,    is    a    full-time    father    to    his    own    brood. 


IF  parties  at  Art  Linkletter's  home  were  as 
easy  of  access  as  the  hilarious  free-for- 
alls  he  stages  for  fifteen  million  or  so 
listeners  to  his  House  Party  and  People  Are 
Funny  radio  programs,  the  guests  'undoubt- 
edly would  be  legion;  the  guy  has  a  draw. 

Undoubtedly,  also,  they  would  arrive  with 
protective  boards  in  their  pants  and  a  handy 
packet  of  cleansing  tissues  for  removing  cus- 
tard pie  from  the  hair.  For  the  public  knows 
anything  goes  when  Art  is  planning  the  fun. 

But,  for  the  record,  they  would  be  disap- 
pointed. There  are  frequent  parties  at  Art's 
house  in  Hollywood,  but  they're  small — 
exclusive  even,  if  you  define  the  word  as 
excluding  all  except  one's  very  best  friends — 
and  they're  quiet,  and  in  deference  to  an  un- 
breakable house  rule,  there  are  no  games! 
Art  gets  his  fill  of  artificially-stimulated  fun 
on  his  radio  programs. 

Once  behind  the  six  foot  concrete  wall 
which  divides  his  amazing  mid-town  estate 
from  the  busy  town  and  all  the  "funny"  peo- 
ple, he  wants  a  different  kind  of  fun — relax- 
ing with  his  pretty  wife,  Lois,  and  their  four 
wonderful  children,  a  cool  plunge  in  the  pool 
and  then  lazy  baking  in  the  sun,  dinner  early 
with  all  the  family,  a  walk  in  the  nearby 
hills  with  the  whole  family  again,  a  wrestling 
match  on  the  television  set,  perhaps,  and 
then  bed. 


e 


ww  cm 


ART 


&  \Juit 


UIKLETTE 


By  POLLY  TOWNSEND 


Although  their  house  is  only  a  block  from 
the  Sunset  Strip,  address  of  some  of  the 
world's  most  famous  night  spots — Ciro's,  Mo- 
cambo,  La  Rue — the  Linkletters  haven't  been 
in  a  night  club  in  years. 

Crowds,  smoky  rooms,  drinks  have  no 
charm  for  Art,  arid  fortunately  for  their 
happy  marriage  Lois  is  just  as  partial  to 
quiet  suppers  for  a  few  friends  with  no 
"entertainment"  except  good  food  and  good 
talk. 

Some  of  their  close  friends  are  in  show 
business,  too.  The  Ozzie  Nelsons,  Charlie 
Corrells,  the  Sid  Strotzes,  Alene  Leslie,  are 
frequent  guests.  But  so  are  young  lawyers, 
doctors,  writers  whose  names  would  mean 
nothing  to  the  public,  but  whose  work  is 
even  more  interesting  to  Art  than  his  own. 

The  lawyers'  factual  minds  fascinate  him — 
he  wants  to  know  the  details,  not  just  the 
verdict,  in  Jack  Leslie's  latest  court  case. 
And  he  thinks  it  would  be  stupid  to  spend 
an  evening  at  gin  rummy  when  he  can  find 
out  about  fabulous  new  drugs  being  used  in 
the  treatment  of  tuberculosis. 

"Why,  I've  been  at  parties  in  Hollywood 
where  the  guests  included  world-famous 
novelists,  scientists,  diplomats  ...  I  have 
simply  drooled  for  a  chance  to  talk  with 
them  .  .  .  and  what  happens?  Before  the 
coffee  cups  are  out  (Continued  on  page  77) 


Art's    house    is    big    an 


Art  Linklctter  is  m.c.  of 
House  Party,  CBS,  lYlon.- 
Fri.,  3:30  P.M.  EST,  and 
of  People  Are  Funny,  NBC, 
Tues.,.at  10:30  P.M.  EST. 


52 


games— because  playing  games  is  Art  s  daily 


Robert,  Sharon  and  Art  hold  a  make-believe  con- 
versation with  sister  Dawn,  who's  away  at  camp. 


On  Art's  lap,  Robert, 
4;  on  Lois's  lap,  2- 
year-old  Sharon.  Jack, 
11,  sports  his  Black 
Foxe     school     uniform. 


imptuous,  but  it's  not  a  Hollywood  mansion.  It's  a  home  for  the  Linkletter  family. 


■j*** 


¥ 


^s 


I 


Art,  who  had  no  family  lor  many  of  his  youngest 
years,    ie    a    full-time    father    to    his    own    hrood. 


Come;  emu  Visit 

ART 


IIIKLETTI 


IF  parties  at  Art  Linkletter's  home  were  as 
easy  of  access  as  the  hilarious  free-for- 
alls  he  stages  for  fifteen  million  or  so 
listeners  to  his  House  Party  and  People  Are 
Funny  radio  programs,  the  guests  -undoubt- 
edly would  be  legion;  the  guy  has  a  draw. 

Undoubtedly,  also,  they  would  arrive  with 
protective  boards  in  their  pants  and  a  handy 
packet  of  cleansing  tissues  for  removing  cus- 
tard pie  from  the  hair.  For  the  public  knows 
anything  goes  when  Art  is  planning  the  fun. 

But,  for  the  record,  they  would  be  disap- 
pointed. There  are  frequent  parties  at  Art's 
house  in  Hollywood,  but  they're  small — 
exclusive  even,  if  you  define  the  word  as 
excluding  all  except  one's  very  best  friends — 
and  they're  quiet,  and  in  deference  to  an  un- 
breakable house  rule,  there  are  no  games! 
Art  gets  his  fill  of  artificially -stimulated  fun 
on  his  radio  programs. 

Once  behind  the  six  foot  concrete  wall 
which  divides  his  amazing  mid- town  estate 
from  the  busy  town  and  all  the  "funny"  peo- 
ple, he  wants  a  different  kind  of  fun — relax- 
ing with  his  pretty  wife,  Lois,  and  their  four 
wonderful  children,  a  cool  plunge  in  the  pool 
and  then  lazy  baking  in  the  sun,  dinner  early 
with  all  the  family,  a  walk  in  the  nearby 
hills  with  the  whole  family  again,  a  wrestling 
match  on  the  television  set,  perhaps,  and 
then  bed. 


By  POILY  TOWNSEND 


Although  their  house  is  only  a  block  from 
the  Sunset  Strip,  address  of  some  of  the 
world's  most  famous  night  spots — Ciro's,  Mo- 
cambo,  La  Rue — the  Linkletters  haven't  been 
in  a  night  club  in  years. 

Crowds,  smoky  rooms,  drinks  have  no 
charm  for  Art,  arid  fortunately  for  their 
happy  marriage  Lois  is  just  as  partial  to 
quiet  suppers  for  a  few  friends  with  no 
"entertainment"  except  good  food  and  good 
talk. 

Some  of  their  close  friends  are  in  show 
business,  too.  The  Ozzie  Nelsons,  Charlie 
Corrells,  the  Sid  Strotzes,  Alene  Leslie,  are 
frequent  guests.  But  so  are  young  lawyers, 
doctors,  writers  whose  names  would  mean 
nothing  to  the  public,  but  whose  work  is 
even  more  interesting  to  Art  than  his  own. 

The  lawyers'  factual  minds  fascinate  him — 
he  wants  to  know  the  details,  not  just  the 
verdict,  in  Jack  Leslie's  latest  court  case. 
And  he  thinks  it  would  be  stupid  to  spend 
an  evening  at  gin  rummy  when  he  can  find 
out  about  fabulous  new  drugs  being  used  in 
the  treatment  of  tuberculosis. 

"Why,  I've  been  at  parties  in  Hollywood 
where  the  guests  included  world-famous 
novelists,  scientists,  diplomats  ...  I  have 
simply  drooled  for  a  chance  to  talk  with 
them  .  .  .  and  what  happens?  Before  the 
coffee  cups  are  out  (Continued  on  page  77) 


Robert,  Sharon  and  bthold  .  n.A«-l.,li, ,,  eon 
nmtioD  ».il»  ibtei  Dawn,  whVi  ..*.«>  ,,i  amp. 


nmpiuous,  but  it's  not  a  Hollywood  mansion 


Art  Linklctt«  U  m.c  -" 
Hou-o  Panj.r.US,  Mo-.- 
Fri..  3=30  P.M.  EST.M* 
of  People  A. 
Tue».,. 


.  e  Funnj,  NBC 
0:30  P.M.  EST- 


family. 


By   PAULINE   SWANSON 


IF  Jo  Stafford  were  to  write  her  own  theme  song, 
it  might  go  something  like  this:    "I'm  Taking  it 

Easy  on  the  Crest  of  the  Wave." 

Back  home  in  her  native  California,  relaxing  in  a 
casual-  and  comfortable  house  in  Westwood,  out 
oceanway  from  Los  Angeles,  she'  seems  as  unper- 
turbed by  her  spectacular  success  as  she  was  by  the 
hurdles-  on  the  way  to  the  top. 

Five  blocks  away  on  the  U.C.L.A.  campus,  couples 
cluster  about  fraternity  house  phonographs,  listen- 
ing to  the  new  Jo  Stafford  records,  helping  to  make 
Jo  a  high-ranking  girl  among  American  recording 
stars. 

In  the  college  hangout  down  the  block,  the  juke 
box  eats  nickels  from  more  Jo  Stafford  fans — and 
Jo  turns  up  Number  One  again,  the  Juke  Box 
Queen  for  1947. 

And  all  over  the  pretty  little  University  town 
radios  are  tuned  in  regularly  to  the  Supper  Club, 
and  there's  Jo  again — now  in  her  role  as  far  and 
away  one  of  the  most  popular  girl  singers  on  the 
air. 

But  the  windows  of  Jo's  cozy  hilltop  house  face 
away  from  the  campus,  and  the  hangouts  and  the 
town,  and  look  across  the  roof-tops  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean,  which  goes  on  pounding  in,  ebbing  out,  day 
in,  day  out,  no  matter  who  wins  what  poll.  Jo  likes 
to  look  at  it,  shining  like  a  compact  mirror  on  a 
bright  day,  a  black  patch  at  the  edge  of  the  lights 
at  night,  and  although  she  would  laugh  herself  sick 
at  any  notion  that  her  favorite  view  is  symbolic, 
it  is  significant  that  all  of  the  hoopla  about  Jo  has 
had  remarkably  little  effect  on  her  values. 

It  was  less  than  ten  years  ago  when  Jo — a  freckle- 
faced  kid  barely  out  of  high  school — made  her 
radio  debut  in  a  "sister-act,"  singing  with  her 
sisters  Pauline  and  Christine  in  the  Stafford  Sis- 
ters Trio. 

.  "Jo  never  made  a  fuss  about  her  singing,"  big 
sister  Chris — now  Jo's  personal  secretary. — says. 
"She  felt  it,  she  liked  it.  If  she  weren't  doing  it  for 
money,  she'd  have  been  doing  it  for  fun.  It's  still 
like  that." 


The  ensuing  fame,  and  the  pockets  full  of  money, 
have  had  very  little  visible  affect  on  Jo — she's  still 
the  same  relaxed  and  happy  kid,  comfortably  sloppy 
in  low  heels  and  a  collegienne's  sweater  and  skirt, 
her  calmness  making  even  the  calm  Crosby  seem 
hyperthyroid  by  comparison. 

Jo  is  a  girl  with  three  big  enthusiasms — her  fam- 
ily, her  singing  and  her  friends.  Occasionally  she 
bubbles  up  a  bit  over  something  new — at  the  mo- 
ment her  new  house,  the  first  home  of  her  own  she 
has  ever  had — which  she  is  decorating  at  her  own 
leisurely  pace,  strictly  as  the  spirit  moves  her. 

"We  lost  a  davenport  today,"  she  will  say,  giving 
the  line  something  of  a  "we  lost  a  tooth"  inflection. 
The  davenport,  which  Christine  explains  had  been 
shriekingly  the  wrong  color,  had  been  with  them  for 
weeks  before  Jo  got  around  to  replacing  it. 

Although  Jo  insists  that  it's  not  half  done,  the 
house  looks  pleasantly  rubbed  down  and  lived  in. 

The  efforts  of  her  five-year-old  great-nephew 
Christopher  are  not  to  be  sniffed  at  in  the  rubbing- 
down  process.  His  toy  violin  is  on  the  grand  piano, 
along  with  the  songs  in  manuscript  which  Jo  is 
working  up,  his  heel  marks  are  on  the  bannisters, 
and  his  jellied  fingerprints  all  over  the  breakfast 
room  table. 

Embers  from  last  evening's  fire  are  still  glowing 
in  the  grate  in  the  den,  easily  the  most  cheerful 
room  in  the  house.  The  big  comfortable  chairs  are 
strong  red  and  yellow,  the  rug  is  bright  green.  The 
card  table,  where  Jo  and  Chris  like  to  sit  up  late 
playing  rummy,  is  a  good  noisy  red  as  well. 

For  more  "tone"  Jo  conducts  you  through  the 
formal  living  room  and  dining  room.  The  living 
room  has  been  done  in  brown — notably  in  lush 
quilted  velvet  valances  over  the  big  view  windows 
— and  chartreuse,  and  looks  bigger  than  it  is  because 
of  the  mirrored  fireplace.  The  eighteenth  century 
mahogany  pieces  in  the  dining  room  show  off  to 
advantage  against  a  pale  blue  and  rose  floral  wall- 
paper. 

"Pretty,  isn't  it?"  asks  Jo,  adding  "We  always  eat 
in  the  breakfast  room." 


^yjt  \w\rn  and  oA  wc^t^jtrbt^GxA  live*  trtj  cne  mjIl:  lie  Um  allowed 


54 


No    career-conscious    tension    is    ever    allowed    inside    Jo's    designed-for-easy-living    home    in    Westwood,    near    Los    Angeles. 


Brisk  workroom  atmosphere  is  not  Jo's  style;  her  seven-by-seven 
bed  often  doubles  as  a  desk.  Sister  Christine  (right,  with  Jo)  shares 
both   the  house   and   most   of   Jo's   interests,   including   gin    rummy. 


w 


* 


4jfl 


Five-year-old    Chris    is    an    almost    constant    visitor 
— his    great-aunt   Jo    is    as    fond    of    eating    as    he    is. 


Cheerful    maid     Cleo     is    a    behind-the-scenes     genius;     Jo 
can    safely    sketch    a    menu    and    leave    the    details    to    her. 


Jo  Stafford  in  heard  on  Mon.-Wed.-Fri.  Supper 
<:iul>    ItroadcaoU,    on     NBC    at    7    P.M.    EST. 


^Mk  MiA  In 


Lamp  designing  is  a  hobby  with  Jo; 
the     ballerina-legs     are     her     brain- 


Decorator  Jo  really  got  down  to  business  when  she 
got  to  the  two  big  bedrooms — her  own  and  Christine's 
— at  the  back  of  the  house. 

"We're  girls  who  like  our  sleep,"  she  admits,  as 
she  proudly  displays  the  two  "Hollywood"  seyen-by- 
seven  beds,  Chris's  with  an  old-rose  quilted  headboard, 
Jo's  with  electric  blue  satin. 

It's  pretty  hard  to  look  at  the  rooms  without  yawn- 
ing sleepily.  If  you're  just  half-sleepy,  you  can  turn 
down  the  big  bed  for  a  chaise — Jo's  fits  into  a  curving 
wall  of  windows  with  a  view  of  the  ocean  going  about 
its  leisurely  business  five  miles  down  the  slope. 

Next  to  big  beds,  Jo's  passion  is  for  lamps — and  she 
has  outdone  herself  designing  the  bedside  pairs  for 
the  bedrooms.  The  bases  for  Christine's  are  entwined 
pink  cupids,  the  shades  pink  fluff.  Jo's  are  even 
headier — if  that  is  the  word  for  bases  made  like  danc- 
ers' legs,  and  shades  which  simulate  ruffled  can-can 
skirts. 

The  house,  with  its  accents  on  comfort  and  fun,  fits 
Jo  like  one  of  her  own  low-heeled  shoes,  despite  the 
fact  that  she  has  been  in  it  for  only  a  few  weeks. 

It's  too  new  yet  to  be  "home,"  as  she  reveals  when 
she  tells  you  that  she  and  Christine  "go  home"  every 
weekend. 

"Home"  is  in  Long  Beach,  where  Jo's  mother  and 
father  live  in  the  big  old  house  Jo  bought  for  them 


children^  as   are  the  fat   pink   Cupids 
in    Christine's    room,     (not    shown). 


Jo  spends  her  days  in  casual  sports  clothes  and  makeup., 
but    turns    herself    out    with    glamor-plus    for    broadcast?. 


with  the  first  really  important  earnings  of  her  career. 

The  baby  of  the  four  Stafford  sisters,  Bette  Jane, 
and  her  husband  and  five-month-old  son,  Kim,  live  in 
Long  Beach  too,  as  do  Christine's  daughter,  Marjorie 
Folz,  and — when  he's  not  visiting  Aunt  Jo — five-year- 
old  Christopher. 

The  weekend  reunions  are  traditional  for  the  whole 
family,  and  Sunday  wouldn't  be  Sunday  for  any  of 
them  without  one  of  mama's  southern  fried  chicken 
dinners. 

Pauline,  now  living  in  New  York  with  her  husband, 
Galen  Drake,  mopes  every  Sunday  from  homesickness, 
the  other  girls  say,  despite  the  fact  that  she  manages 
at  least  three  times  a  year  to  join  the  rest  of  the  family 
for  a  holiday. 

It  was  in  these  family  conclaves  that  the  Stafford 
sisters  first  learned  to  sing  together,  and  this  they  still 
do — strictly  for  laughs  and  fun.  When  they  aren't 
singing  they're  playing  charades — everybody  but  little 
Kim  participates  in  The  Game. 

If  Jo  had  her  way,  these  family  parties  and  a  few 
informal  get-togethers  with  the  gang  she  works  with 
in  the  recording  studio  and  on  her  radio  show  would 
take  care  of  her  social  life. 

"She's  never  been  much  for  parties,  especially  big 
ones,"  Christine  explains.  "The  trouble  with  that  is, 
there  are  so  many  people  she  should  entertain — people 


she  really  likes  who  have  been  terribly  nice  to  her. 
We've  started  once  or  twice  to  plan  a  dinner  party, 
made  up  guest  lists  and  menus.  Jo  tries  to  stay 
interested,  but  she  bogs  down  early.  'You  do  it,  Chris,' 
she  says  finally,  'you  know  how.'  And  I  know  how 
she  really  feels,  so  we  just  skip  it,  until  later.  Usually 
until  too  much  later." 

As  a  result,  the  "parties"  at  Jo's  house  in  Westwood 
are  much  more  apt  to  take  on  the  atmosphere  of  a 
kaffee-klatsch  after  a  broadcast  or  a  recording  date, 
with  Paul  Weston,  Jo's  conductor  and  very  special 
friend,  on  hand,  along  with  Bob  Packham,  who  pro- 
duces the  western  Supper  Club  shows,  Fred  Heider, 
who  writes  them,  and  the  five  Star  Lighters. 

If  Jo  is  feeling  particularly  energetic,  she  will  put 
on  an  apron  and  make  chili  and  beans — her  favorite 
dish.  If  she  isn't,  and  she  frequently  isn't,  they  all  talk 
Cleo,  the  cheerful  maid,  into  making  spaghetti,  or  send 
out  for  hamburgers. 

Jo's  friends  wonder  audibly  when  she  and  Paul 
Weston  will  take  out  a  marriage  license,  but  Jo  says 
quietly  that  "it  hasn't  come  to  that  yet." 
.  They  have  been  friends  for  years.  It  was  Paul,  when 
he  was  arranging  for  Tommy  Dorsey,  who  recom- 
mended the  Pied  Pipers  to  his  boss,  and  thus  got  Jo — 
who  was  the  only  girl  with  the  group — her  first  break 
in  big  time  radio.    Since  she   (Continued  on  pag<   7(>) 


57 


Five-year-old    Chris    is    an    almost    constant    visitor 
— bis   gn-ut-uunt   Jo    is   as   fond   of   eating   a*   he   is. 


Cheerful     maid     Cleo     i>     a     lit-himl-the-srenes     genius;    Jo 
rim    safely    sketch    u    menu    and    leave    the    detail*    to    her. 


Jo  Stafford  in  hrurd  on  Mon.- Wodt-FM.  Suppw 

Clab    l>r*.«.irn.t.,    on    NBC    ftt    7    P.M.    EST. 


%lkdii\){ 


HOLLYWOOD 


Lamp  designing  is  a  hobb 
the     ballerina-legs     are     ' 


Decorator  Jo  really  got  down  to  business  when  she 
got  to  the  two  big  bedrooms — her  own  and  Christine's 
— at  the  back  of  the  house. 

"We're  girls  who  like  our  sleep,"  she  admits,  as 
she  proudly  displays  the  two  "Hollywood"  seven-by- 
seven  beds,  Chris's  with  an  old-rose  quilted  headboard, 
Jo's  with  electric  blue  satin. 

It's  pretty  hard  to  look  at  the  rooms  without  yawn- 
ing sleepily.  If  you're  just  half-sleepy,  you  can  turn 
down  the  big  bed  for  a  chaise — Jo's  fits  into  a  curving 
wall  of  windows  with  a  view  of  the  ocean  going  about 
its  leisurely  business  five  miles  down  the  slope. 

Next  to  big  beds,  Jo's  passion  is  for  lamps — and  she 
has  outdone  herself  designing  the  bedside  pairs  for 
the  bedrooms.  The  bases  for  Christine's  are  entwined 
pink  cupids,  the  shades  pink  fluff.  Jo's  are  even 
headier — if  that  is  the  word  for  bases  made  like  danc- 
ers' legs,  and  shades  which  simulate  ruffled  can-can 
skirts. 

The  house,  with  its  accents  on  comfort  and  fun,  fits 
Jo  like  one  of  her  own  low-heeled  shoes,  despite  the 
fact  that  she  has  been  in  it  for  only  a  few  weeks. 

It's  too  new  yet  to  be  "home,"  as  she  reveals  when 
she  tells  you  that  she  and  Christine  "go  home"  every 
weekend. 

"Home"  is  in  Long  Beach,  where  Jo's  mother  and 
father  live  in  the  big  old  house  Jo  bought  for  them 


children,  as    are   the  fat   pink    Cupids 
in    Christine's     room,     (not    shown). 


with  the  first  really  important  earnings  of  her  career. 

The  baby  of  the  four  Stafford  sisters,  Bette  Jane, 
and  her  husband  and  five -month -old  son,  Kim,  live  in 
Long  Beach  too,  as  do  Christine's  daughter,  Marjorie 
Folz,  and — when  he's  not  visiting  Aunt  Jo — five-year- 
old  Christopher. 

The  weekend  reunions  are  traditional  for  the  whole 
family,  and  Sunday  wouldn't  be  Sunday  for  any  of 
them  without  one  of  mama's  southern  fried  chicken 
dinners. 

Pauline,  now  living  in  New  York  with  her  husband, 
Galen  Drake,  mopes  every  Sunday  from  homesickness, 
the  other  girls  say,  despite  the  fact  that  she  manages 
at  least  three  times  a  year  to  join  the  rest  of  the  family 
for  a  holiday. 

It  was  in  these  family  conclaves  that  the  Stafford 
sisters  first  learned  to  sing  together,  and  this  they  still 
do — strictly  for  laughs  and  fun.  When  they  aren't 
singing  they're  playing  charades— everybody  but  little 
Kim  participates  in  The  Game. 

If  Jo  had  her  way,  these  family  parties  and  a  few 
informal  get-togethers  with  the  gang  she  works  with 
in  the  recording  studio  and  on  her  radio  show  would 
take  care  of  her  social  life. 

"She's  never  been  much  for  parties,  especially  big 
ones,"  Christine  explains.  "The  trouble  with  th 
there  are  so  many  people  she  should  entertain— people 


.1"  gpendi  her  days  In  casual  sporli  cloths*  and  makeup, 
but  turns  henelf   odi   wiili   sjamorphu   f<.r   broadcnl 


she  really  likes  who  have  been  terribly  nice  to  her 
We've  started  once  or  twice  to  plan  .1  dtnnei  pui 
made  up  guest  lists  and  menus.  Jo  dies  bo 
interested,  but  she  hogs  down  early.  'You  do  it,  Chris,' 
she  says  finally,  'you  know  how.'  And  I  know  how 
she  really  feels,  so  wc  just  skip  It,  until  lain  Usually 
until  too  much  later." 

As  a  result,  the  "pai  ■■■  house  In  West  wood 

are  much  more  apt  to  take  on  tin  atmosphere,  ol  ■ 
kaffee-klatsch  after  .1  bioadrast  01  B  recording  dote. 
with  Paul  Weston,  Jo's  conductor  and  very  special 
friend,  on  hand,  along  with  Bob  Packham,  who  pro- 
duces the  western  Supper  Club  shows,  Fred  Held 
who  writes  them,  and  the  five  Star  Ugh 

If  Jo  is  feeling  particularly  energetic,  she  will  pui 
on  an  apron  and  make  chili  and  beans-  her  favorite 
dish.  If  she  isn't,  and  she  Frequently  Isn't,  they  all  talk 
Cleo,  the  cheerful  maid,  into  making  spaghetti,  01  send 
out  for  hamburgers. 

Jo's  friends  wonder  audibly  when  she  and  Paul 
Weston  will  take  out  a  marriage  license,  but  Jo  says 
quietly  that  "it  hasn't  come  to  that  yet.'' 

They  have  been  friends  for  years.    It  was  Paul,  when 
he  was  arranging  for  Tommy   Dorsey,   who   recom- 
mended the  Pied  Pipers  to  his  boss,  and  thus  got  Jo — 
who  was  the  only  girl  with  the  group— her  first  b 
in  big  time  radio.   Since  she  (Continued  on  pan- 


Bob  Smith's  little  friend  a  mere  puppet?  Why,  he's  a  per- 
son in  his  own  right,  his  admirers,  young  and  old,  insist! 


4Wly  Doodys  DADDY 


^efrne  you  vote,  cowtid&i 


candidate.  t£e  efajtdnen'4>  c&oice 


Bob  Smith,  left,  has  no  political  aspirations, 

but  when  he  created  puppet  Howdy  Doody  he  found 

he  had  a  presidential  candidate  on  his  hands. 

Now,  besides  a  morning  Bob  Smith  Show,  Bob  runs 

a   Howdy  Doody  campaign   on  WNBC   and 

WNBT.     From  young  members  of  the  "Peanut 

Gallery" — the    studio    audience — like    those    above, 

come  the  "Thingamagigs"  for  Howdy's  platform. 


BOB  SMITH,  whose  widest  fame  has  come  as  creator 
and  campaign  manager  of  the  puppet  Howdy 
Doody,  has  been  a  "little-bit-of -everything"  man 
in  radio  for  the  past  fifteen  years;  he's  thirty  now. 
After  an  actively  musical  childhood,  Bob  found  a  spot 
on  WGR  in  Buffalo,  his  home  town,  and  became  a  well- 
known  local  personality.  In  1944,  while  he  was  running 
his  own  show  on  WBEN,  NBC  decided  he  was  big-time 
talent  and  brought  him  to  WNBC  in  New  York  City  to 
do  the  early-morning  (6:30  EST,  Mon.-Sat.)  Bob 
Smith  Show. 

In  March,  1947,  Bob  added  NBC's  Triple  B  Ranch  to 
his  schedule,  and  Howdy  Doody  came  into  the  world. 
As  fun-and-quiz-master  on  this  Saturday  morning 
(9  A.M.  EST)  program  for  juniors,  Bob  decided  he 
needed  a  foil  for  his  quips.  At  first,  he  merely  an- 
swered himself  back  in  another  voice,  which  he  called 
"Howdy  Doody."  But  as  time  went  by  Bob  realized 
that  his  youthful  studio  audiences  were  very  disap- 
pointed at  not  being  able  to  see  Howdy.   So  the  gang- 


ling, yellow-haired  puppet  took  physical  form,  and 
raced  into  favor  with  such  meteoric  speed  that  NBC, 
when  it  caught  its  breath,  built  the  Howdy  Doody 
televison    show    around   him    (Mon.-Fri.,    5:30    P.M.) 

Bob's  programs  still  consist  of  a  "bit  of  everything" 
— music,  games,  quizzes  and  so  on — but  the  important 
thing  right  now  is,  of  course,  Howdy's  campaign  for 
president.  It's  complete  with  buttons,  a  campaign  song 
and  ardent  young  supporters  writing  in  from  wher- 
ever WNBC  and  NBT  are  heard  to  offer  their  sugges- 
tions for  Howdy's  platform.  He's  the  choice  of  the 
Peanut  Gallery  (that's  what  Bob  calls  his  studio 
audience)  and  they  are  the  voters  of  the  future! 

Working  more  than  twelve  hours  per  week  on  the 
air,  plus  rehearsal  and  "thinking"  time,  hasn't  left  Bob 
Smith  much  leisure.  But  starting  this  fall  his  family — 
his  mother,  wife  Margaret,  sons  Ronnie  and  Robin — 
will  see  more  of  him.  NBC  is  building  a  studio  in  the 
basement  of  the  Smith  home  in  New  Rochelle,  from 
which  Bob's  broadcasts  will  come  from  now  on. 


59 


D 
] 


H 


imm 


H 


Plank   It 

SOUNDS  hard?  Not  at  all;  planking  a  meal  is  really  an  easy 
way  to  serve  it.  And  it  makes  a  feast  out  of  an  ordinary 
dinner.  One  of  the  most  delightful  meals  I  can  remember 
was  hamburger  patties '  served  on  a  plank.  Around  the  edge 
were  creamy  whipped  potatoes,  toasted  to  a  golden  brown, 
little  whole  carrots,  tiny  ruby  beets  and  a  serving  each  of 
buttered  stringbeans.  The  vegetables,  of  course,  are  cooked 
first.  Then,  instead  of  being  put  on  serving  dishes,  they  are 
heaped  on  a  plank  in  an  attractive  arrangement.  The  meat, 
whether  it  is  beef  steak,  lamb  chops,  broiled  chicken  or  fish, 
is  the  center  of  attraction. 

If  you  haven't  a  plank,  ask  your  husband  to  help  make  you 
one.  It's  easy  to  do.  Then  place  the  decorated  plank,  festive 
and  beautiful,  on  your  largest  platter  to  serve. 

How   to   Make   a   Plank 

Select  a  piece  of  wood  (oak  or  other  hardwood)  approx- 
imately 12"  x  18"  and  from  1"  to  2"  thick.  On  it  trace  the 
outline  of  a  fish  or  an  oval  or  round  about  the  size  you  want. 
If  there  is  a  knot  in  the  wood  try  to  space  it  so  that  it  is  not 
near  the  edge.  If  you  are  making  a  plank  fish-shaped,  arrange 
the  knot  to  come  where  the  eye  would.  With  a  band  saw  or 
coping  saw,  cut  around  the  fish  outline.  To  finish,  round  off 
the  top  edges  and  mark  juice  grooves  with  a  file.  You  can 
gouge  out  with  a  chisel  a  well  or  depression  and  a  tree  for 
catching  the  juices.  Finish  wood  by  sandpapering  edges  till 
they  are  smooth. 

To    Season   a    New    Plank 

Soak  plank  in  cold  water  overnight.  Rub  thoroughly  with 
oil  or  suet.  Warm  slowly  to  heat  thoroughly  (250°  for  one 
hour).  Edges  should  be  protected  with  oil.  To  clean  plank, 
scrape,  wash  and  rinse  and  allow  to  dry  slowly.  Always  use 
a  plank  which  has  been  oiled  and  preheated. 

Chopped  Beef  on  a  Plank 


P/2  pounds  chopped  beef 
salt 
pepper 
chopped  onions 


6  small  carrots  cleaned  and 
cooked 
sliced  beets 
1V2  cups  cooked  mashed  potatoes 


Good   food   is   always    the   hand- 
somest decoration  for  a  table,  but 
for    an    extra-appetizing    touch 
try  planking  your  main  course. 


Mix  together  beef,  salt,  pepper  and  onions.  Shape  into  three 
square  patties.  Preheat  broiling  compartment  and  pan  for  10 
minutes.  Place  patties  on  broiling  pan  about  3  inches  from  the 
source  of  the  heat.  Broil  about  8  minutes.  Turn  patties  over 
and  transfer  to  a  heated,  oiled  wooden  plank.  Garnish  the 
patties  with  the  carrots  and  beets.  With  a  pastry  tube  or  spoon, 
place  a  decorative  row  of  mashed  potatoes  around  the  edge  of 
the  plank.  Place  in  broiling  compartment  and  broil  for  5 
minutes.    Makes  6  servings. 

With   Chopped   Beef 

Borders:  Mashed  Irish  and  sweet  potatoes  in  various  forms. 
Bananas,  halved  lengthwise.  Grilled  pineapple  slices.  Cooked 
apple  or  peach  quarters  or  apricot  halves.  Mashed  squash, 
turnip.  (Continued  on  page  79) 


By   KATE   SMITH 

RADIO  MIRROR 
FOOD  COUNSELOR 
Listen  to  Kate  Smith   Speaks 
at  12  Noon  each  weekday,  on 
stations  of  the  IVIutual  nctu  ork. 


61 


The  Guiding  Light  that  shines  from  the  study  of  Dr.  Matthews  has  led  many  troubled  souls  to  peace 


i 

M 

62 


.  but  peace  was  not  the  goal  of  the  man  who  called  himself  Ray  Brandon 


ON  graduation  night  Cantwell  High, 
in  one  of  the  nicest  sections  of  Los 
Angeles,  had  two  guests  from  the 
melting-pot  community  of  Selby  Flats. 
One,  Dr.  Charles  Matthews,  pastor  of 
the  Church  of  the  Good  Samaritan  in 
Selby  Flats,  was  known  to  all  the  audi- 
ence. He  sat  next  to  the  principal  in 
the  center  of  the  front  row  of  seats  on 
the  stage.  He  was  the  speaker  of  the 
evening. 

The  other  stood  at  the  very  back  of 
the  room,  in  the  deepest  shadow  of  the 
balcony,  so  that  even  if  anyone  in  the 
audience  chanced  to  turn  his  head,  he 
could  not  be  seen.  His  name  was  Ray 
Brandon;  he  was  only  about  three 
weeks  old.  But  he  knew  about  life,  its 
twists  and  turnings,  its  way  of  trying 
to  trap  a  man  who  wanted  no  part  of  it. 

Only  three  weeks  ago,  the  day  before 
the  warden  of  the  state  prison  had 
turned  the  key  that  permitted  Roger 
Barton  to  go  free  and  to  change  his 
name,  Dr.  Matthews  had  spoken  at  the 
prison.  It  had  been  a  moving  speech, 
so  moving  that  the  brand-new  Ray 
Brandon  had  had  a   crazy,   irresistible 


impulse.  His  first  act  as  a  free  man 
had  been  to  go  to  see  Dr.  Matthews  and 
to  tell  him  just  what  he  thought  of  his 
high-sounding  phrases  about  the  broth- 
erhood of  man. 

Then  he'd  got  a  job  as  a  stock  clerk — 
pretty  good  for  a  man  who  had  a  col- 
lege degree  in  business  administration 
and  who  knew  as  much  law  as  many 
practising  lawyers — and  had  ironically 
given  Dr.  Matthews'  name  as  a  refer- 
ence. Then  he  had  had  a  visit  from  a 
woman  named  Julie  Collins,  who  had 
once  been  Julie  Barton.  Julie  was  here 
tonight,  too,  with  her  husband,  Frank 
Collins.  She  was  here  to  listen  proudly 
while  her  son,  young  Roger  Barton, 
delivered  the  valedictory  address  for 
the  graduating  class  of  Cantwell  High. 

Oh,  yes,  life  was  cunning;  it  was 
already  trying  to  claim  Ray  Brandon. 
Dr.  Matthews  had  forgiven  him  his  im- 
precations and  had  given  him  a  good 
recommendation  for  his  job.  Julie  was 
married  to  another  man;  she  had  borne 
him  two  children,  but  her  eyes  had  told 
Ray  Brandon  that  she  loved  him.  Her 
lips  had  said,  "I  hope  we  can  be  friends. 


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Charlotte   looked  up   at   Ray,  her   face   raining   tears   as   frank   as   a 
child's.     He  couldn't  stop  himself  ...  he  put  his  arms  around  her. 


But  young  Roger  has  grown  up  believ- 
ing that  you  were  dead,  as  you  wished. 
I  hope  you  realize  the  impossibility  of 
— of  projecting  yourself  into  his  life  in 
any  way."  But  her  eyes  had  told  him 
that   she   loved   him. 

Well,  she  needn't  worry.  He'd  told 
her  he'd  forgotten  the  boy  completely. 
She'd  married  Frank  to  give  young 
Roger  a  good  home,  a  good  life,  and  it 
was  all  right  with  him.  He'd  told  Julie 
so,  told  her  that  a  father's  feelings 
weren't  nearly  as  strong  as  a  mother's. 
And  they  weren't,  were  they?  He  was 
here  tonight  only  out  of — curiosity.  To 
see  what  sort  of  man  the  little  boy  he'd 
known  had  become. 

Julie  needn't  worry  about  his  having 
anything  to  do  with  young  Roger.  Dr. 
Matthews  could  preach  to  someone  else 
about  the  brotherhood  of  man  and  for- 
giving and  forgetting  and  making  a 
fresh  start.  Ray  Brandon  wanted  noth- 
ing life  had  to  offer.  He  was  existing 
for  just  one  purpose.  When  it  was  ac- 
complished, he  wouldn't  care  what  hap- 
pened. 

Dr.  Matthews  was  speaking — pray- 
ing. "Almighty  God,  may  Your  guid- 
ing light  shine  down  upon  these  young 
folks  who  hold  destiny  in  their  hands. 
May  it  direct  them  down  paths  of  un- 
derstanding, tolerance,  and  brotherly 
love.  May  it  help  them  to  build  a 
world  of  unselfishness  and  faith,  a 
world  that  will  be  a  promise  of  Your 
heavenly  kingdom.  Amen  .  .  ."  He 
lifted  his  head,  addressed  the  audience 
directly.  "It  gives  me  great  pleasure 
now  to  present  to  you  the  valedictorian 
of  the  Cantwell  High  School  graduating 
class  ...  Roger  Collins." 

Collins — so  he  was  using  his  step- 
father's name.  Not  that  it  mattered, 
of  course.  Ray  braced  himself.  The 
boy  was  getting  up,  coming  forward  on 
the  stage — and  the  face  that  looked  out 
across  the  footlights  was  Ray's  own 
face  as  it  had  been  fifteen-odd  years 
ago. 

"Principal  Clark,  teachers,  paren's 
and  friends  .  .  .  first  of  all  we  want  ' 
express  our  deep  gratitude  to  everyone 
who  has  made  this  evening  a  reality  for 
us.  Our  parents — our  mothers  and 
dads — without  you,  this  couldn't  have 
been  possible.  Day  after  day  at  home 
you  taught  us  things  we  could  never 
learn  in  school.  You  were  always  there 
to  encourage  us — " 

Ray  took  it,  every  agonizing  line  of  it. 
He  stayed  through  the  salutatorian's 
address,  and  the  handing  out  of  the 
diplomas,  his  hungry  eyes  never  leav- 
ing the  boy's  face.  He  didn't  dare  wait 
to  see  Roger  join  the  march  off  the 
stage;  the  audience  would  break  up 
then,  and  he  couldn't  risk  Julie's  turn- 
ing around,  possibly  seeing  him.  He 
had  a  little  trouble  with  the  doors — 
or  maybe  the  trouble  was  with  his 
eyes,  which  were  somehow,  suddenly 
blurred— and  then  he  was  outside, 
headed  for  the  bus  line  and  Mrs.  Olson's 
boarding  house  in   Selby  Flats. 

A  man  and  a  woman  sat  on  the 
boarding  house  porch;  the  man  faded 
quickly  inside  as  Ray  came  up. 

"Poor  Eddie,"   Ray  grinned.     "Lives    R 
in  hopes,  doesn't  he?" 

Charlotte   Wilson   tilted   her   face   to    M 
look  up  at  him.     It  was  a  pretty  face, 
but  with  tired  lines  that  were  too  old 

63 


Dr.  Charles  Matthews    (played  by  Hugh  Studebaker)    watched  and  waited 
as  Ray  Brandon  struggled  with  his  problem.  He  knew  Ray's   secret  goal. 


64 


for  her  years.  Just  now  it  was  a  soft 
blur  in  the  June  night.  "He  doesn't 
need  any  encouragement.  Not  like  some 
people  I  know."  Quickly  she  went  on, 
"How  was  the  graduation?" 

RAY  was  touched.  She  was  always 
making  little  slips  that  betrayed 
her  attitude  of  casual  friendliness,  and 
then  hurriedly  changing  the  subject  as 
if  she  were  afraid  of  forcing  him  to  take 
notice  of  her.  Earlier  in  the  evening 
she  had  suggested  a  walk  in  the  Flats' 
rather  dusty  little  park;  when  he  had 
told  her  where  he  was  going  and  had 
invited  her  to  go  with  him,  her  face 
had  lighted  with  longing — but  she  had 
refused,  sensing  that  he  wanted  to  go 
alone. 

"All  right,"  he  answered,  and  couldn't 
help  adding,  "One  part  of  it  was  won- 
derful. A  young  man,  the  class  vale- 
dictorian, spoke — " 

"Yes — "  She  was  watching  his  face 
intently.     "What  did  he  have  to  say?" 

He  was  afraid  to  go  on,  afraid  she 
would  divine  more  than 
he  wanted  her  to  know. 
"Oh — just  what  all 
young  people  have  to 
say,"  he  answered  care- 
lessly. "What  I  felt  and 
said  myself  when  I  was 
young.  Charlotte,  I'm 
very  sorry.  I  completely 
forgot  that  you  might 
be  waiting." 

She  laughed.  "You 
know,  you're  a  nice 
guy,"  she  told  him.  "I 
didn't  have  you  figured 
as  the  kind  of  guy  who'd 
say  I'm  sorry." 

He  smiled  thinly. 
"Not  quite  in  character, 
you  mean?" 

"Not  quite  something. 
I  had  you  figured  as  a 


Charlotte 
(Hetty     Lou     Gerson) 


hard      guy — hard,      not 

tough.  But  I  guess  you're 

nice — nicer  than  I  am.  I 

stopped    being    sorry — 

for     anything — a     long 

time  ago.    You  live  to- 
day.     That's     all     that 

matters.    And  speaking 

of   today  —  there's   still 

time   for   that   walk   in 

the  park." 
A  walk  in  the  park, 

Ray  thought;  not  a  bad 

idea.    It  might  help  him 

forget  tonight,   and  the 

boys   and   girls  moving 

down  the  aisle  to  pro- 
cessional  music,   and   a 

face  that  was  his   own 

face,     fifteen     years 

younger,  on  a  stage. 

He  didn't  mean  to  get  too  friendly 

with  Charlotte.     In  a  sense  they  were 

both  fugitives  from  life,  and  that  was 

what   drew   him   to   her.      She   was   a 

pianist;  she  had  a  night-club  act  billed 
as  "Charlotte  and  Her 
Piano" — when  she 
worked.  Ray  suspected 
that  it  was  a  good  act, 
and  that,  if  she  cared 
to  exert  herself,  she 
had  warmth  and  drive 
enough  to  put  it  across. 
But  he  suspected,  too, 
that  she  didn't  really 
care  much  about  any- 
thing, and  that  she 
worked  only  enough 
to  keep  herself  and  to 
pay  for  her  modest 
room  at  Mrs.  Olson's. 
She  was  always 
around  when  he  came 
in  from  work,  not  in- 
truding herself  upon 
him,  nor  seeking  at- 
tention, but  just  there, 


in  case  he  should  want  to  talk  with  her 
or  walk  with  her  or  to  play  a  game  of 
gin  rummy.  Often  he  avoided  her — 
tactfully,  so  that  he  wouldn't  hurt  her 
feelings.  He  was  a  man  with  a  purpose. 
The  purpose  would  have  to  wait  a  while 
because  the  man  at  the  other  end  of  it 
was  out  of  town,  but  in  the  meantime 
he  didn't  want  to  become  interested  in 
anyone,  nor  did  he  want  anyone  to  be- 
come interested  in  him.  No  emotional 
pride   must   tangle   his   clear   purpose. 

THEN  one  night  Dr.  Matthews  left  his 
study  at  the  Church  of  the  Good 
Samaritan,  just  up  the  street  from  Mrs. 
Olson's,  and  paid  him  a  visit. 

"Don't  get  the  wrong  idea,"  he  told 
Ray.  "I  know  how  you  feel  about  me, 
and  I'm  not  going  to  make  a  habit  of 
dropping  in  on  you  like  this.  But  I 
know  what  you're  up  against  .  .  .  and  if 
there's  ever  anything  I  can  do,  you 
know  where  the  parsonage  is." 

Ray  laughed  shortly.  "I've  a  very 
good  view  of  it  from  my  window — one 
of  the  drawbacks  of  the  room.  And 
thanks — but  my  future  is  pretty  well 
laid  out.  You  needn't  concern  your- 
self." 

"I  wonder,"  said  Dr.  Matthews  slowly. 
"Every  time  I  talk  with  you,  I've  the 
feeling  I'm  talking  to  two  men.  One 
is  lost,  bewildered;  he  wants  to  believe 
in  something,  wants  to  believe  that  the 
world  is  a  decent  place,  in  spite  of 
everything.  The  other 
— well,  I  don't  like 
what  I  see  in  his  eyes." 
Ray  narrowed  his 
eyes  instinctively,  as 
if  guarding  them. 
Then  he  snorted. 
"You're  all  alike,  you 
ministers.  Why  don't 
you  practise  what  you 
preach?  You're  just 
curious.  There's  some- 
one new  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, someone  you 
can't  tag — " 

"I  wouldn't  say 
that,"  said  Dr. 
Matthews  drily.  "You 
forget,  Brandon,  that 
I've  learned  a  great 
deal  about  you  with- 
out going  out  of  my  way  at  all.  And 
just  the  other  day  I  had  a  talk  with  a 
fine  boy  who's  just  starting  out  in  life. 
He  was  graduated  just  the  other  eve- 
ning— class  valedictorian — " 

Ray's  head  snapped  up.  "You — 
what?" 

"Now,  wait  a  minute.  It  happened 
quite  by  accident.  The  boy  knew  I  was 
going  to  give  the  convocation,  so  he 
figured,  we  ought  to  have  a  talk.  He's 
a  fine  boy,"  Dr.  Matthews  repeated. 
"He  wants  to  work  as  counselor  at  the 
Young  People's  Club  here  in  Selby 
Flats  this  summer,  and  in  the  fall  he 
wants  to  go  to  U.  C.  L.  A.  because  it's 
the  university  his  father — his  real 
father — attended." 

"Look  here,  Dr.  Matthews,  if  you  told 
him — " 

"I  didn't  tell  him  anything,"  said  Dr. 
Matthews.    "I  was  occupied  with  trying 


RADIO      MIRROR 


Waterman) 


THE  LIGHT  IN  THE  WINDOW 


to  place  him.  Oh,  I  know  his  people 
indirectly.  They're  friends  of  the  Mc- 
Neills', who  are  friends  of  mine.  You 
probably  know  that  Dr.  McNeill  runs 
the  clinic  here  in  Selby  Flats.  But  the 
boy's  face,  and  the  way  he  talked — he's 
a  lot  like  this  one  fellow  inside  you  that 
I  was  talking  about.  The  fellow  who 
believes  in  something — " 

Ray's  face  was  white.  He  rose,  al- 
most threateningly.  "That  has  nothing 
to  do  with — " 

A  SCREAM  split  the  air,  followed  by 
-**  scrambling,  a  crash.  Somehow,  Dr. 
Matthews  and  Ray  got  through  the  door 
into  the  hall  at  the  same  time.  Down 
the  hall,  outside  Charlotte  Wilson's 
room,  a  man  lay,  his  head  bleeding,  a 
shattered  pitcher  beside  him.  In  her 
doorway  Charlotte  was  screaming  hys- 
terically, "Get  out!  Get  out!  Get  away 
from  me!" 

Dr.  Matthews  bent  over  the  fallen 
man,  and  suddenly  the  hall  was  full  of 
people,  thin-faced  little  Eddie  Bingham, 
other  boarders,  and 
Mrs.  Olson,  martially 
commanding  them  to 
go  back  where  they 
came  from.  Dr. 
Matthews  took  the 
man  off  to  Dr.  Mc- 
Neill's clinic;  Ray  tact- 
fully retreated  to  his 
own  room  until  the 
house  w.is  quiet.  Then 
he  knoci  ;ed  on  Char- 
lotte's door. 

"Charlotte,  it's  Ray 
— Ray  Brandon.  Are 
you  all  right?" 

"Go  away,"  she  said 
in  a  thick  voice.  "Oh, 
well — "  And  the  door 
opened.  She  was  pac- 
ing back  and  forth  in 
the  small  space,  shak- 
ing all  over.  "That 
good-for-nothing  heel. 
I'm  still  so  mad  I  can  hardly  see 
straight." 

It  was  evident  that  she  hadn't  yet 
recovered  from  the  tussle.  Her  hair  was 
mussed,  her  eyes  red  as  though  her  head 
had  been  buried  in  a  tear- wet  pillow; 
her  breathing  came  fast  and  uneven. 
Ray  put  a  quieting  hand  over  hers. 

"Who  is  he?"  he  asked  quietly. 

"A  rat,"  said  Charlotte  succinctly. 
"One  Larry  Lawrence.  Somebody  I 
don't  want  to  know." 

"Obviously."  Ray  grinned  slightly. 
"Also  someone  you  knew  once." 

"Eight  years  ago."  She  stopped  be- 
fore him,  eyes  brilliant,  mouth  trem- 
bling with  rage.  "I  thought  that  was  the 
last  of  him.  And  today  he  came  back. 
A  knock  on  the  door — and  him  standing 
there  like  he  didn't  know  me  at  first! 
'Charlotte  Wilson,  of  all  people!  I  saw 
the  name  on  a  letter,  an  envelope  down 
in  the  hall,  but  I  didn't  think  it  was 
possible.  Charlotte,  don't  you  remem- 
ber me?'  I  remembered  all  right — " 

"I  guess  you  did.  That  was  a  pretty 
nasty  cut.  Dr.  Matthews  has  taken  him 
down  to  the  clinic." 

"Too  bad  it  wasn't  the  morgue." 

He    looked    at    her,    startled.      She 


READER      BONUS 


Frank 
( William 


sounded  as  if  she 
meant  it.  "Charlotte, 
you  couldn't  hate  any- 
one that  much." 

"Oh,  no?  If  you'd 
gone  through  what  I 
have  because  of  one 
person  .  .  .  What  do 
you  know  about  hate?" 
"What  do  I  know?" 
He  checked  himself 
"Surely,  Charlotte,  it 
can't  be  as  bad  as  all 
that.  Eight  years  ago, 
you  were  just  a  kid — " 

She  nodded  violently.  "You  bet. 
Young  and  dumb  and  nice,  a  regular 
little  Pollyanna.  Sang  in  church  every 
Sunday,  a  sweet  small-town  girl,  young 
love's  dream  taken  for  a  sleigh  ride  by 
Handsome  Harry.  I  should  have  killed 
him — " 

He  put  his  hands  on  her  shoulders, 

forced    her    into    a    chair.      "Charlotte, 

stop  that.     Now  have  a  cigarette  and 

relax.     What's  the  use  getting  worked 

up      over      something 

that     happened     eight 

years     ago?      There— 

that's   better — " 

She  took  the  ciga- 
rette, looked  up  at  him 
with  eyes  full  of 
apology  —  and  some- 
thing else.  "I'm  sorry," 
she  said.  "I  shouldn't 
have  flown  off  the 
handle  that  way.  But 
I  got  so  mad  at  him, 
and  then  mad  at  my- 
self for  being  mad  .  . 
is  he  coming  back?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Ray 
answered.  "I  heard 
him  say  he  has  a  room 
here,  but  under  the 
circumstances  I  don't 
imagine  he'll  be  too 
anxious  to  stay." 
"That's  what  you 
think."  She  laughed  bitterly.  "All  I've 
got  to  say  is  that  this  place  isn't  big 
enough  for  the  two  of  us.  One  of  us 
will  have  to  go — me  or  Larry  Law- 
rence." 

But  she  didn't  go.  Larry  came  back 
from  the  clinic;  the  days  passed,  and 
still  Charlotte  remained.  Then,  coming 
home  from  work  one  afternoon  and 
passing  her  half-open  door,  Ray  saw 
something  that  made  him  pause,  push 
the  door  open  the  rest  of  the  way. 

"Charlotte,  what  in  the  world  are 
you  doing?" 

"What  does  it  look 
like?"  she  snapped, 
and  went  on  with  her 
packing.  "I'm  clearing 
out  of  here." 

He  sat  down  heavily. 
"You  can't,"  he  said. 
"I — I  won't  let  you  do 
this." 

She  straightened, 
staring  at  him.  "You 
won't  let  _me?  What's 
it  to  you,  anyway?" 

"I  like  you,"  said 
Ray.  "Except  when 
you  give  in  to  these 
impulses — " 

"Like      throwing 

pitchers     at     people?" 

He   nodded   soberly. 

"And — showing    the 


Julie    Collins 
(Mary  Lansing) 


Collins 
Bouchey) 


Roger    Collins 
(Sam  Edwards) 


white  feather.  You're 
only  running  away, 
Charlotte.  You're 
afraid  to  face  your- 
self, and  the  past.  If 
you'd  care  to  talk  to 
me  about  it  ...  if  I 
can  help — " 

Dimly  he  heard  an 
echo  —  Dr.  Matthews 
offering,  his  own  voice 
refusing.  But  he 
wouldn't  listen.  What 
applied  to  him  didn't 
necessarily  apply  to 
others.  And  Charlotte  needed  help. 
"Why  should  I  tell  you  anything?" 
she  demanded.  "What  do  I  know  about 
you,  the  man  of  mystery  himself?  Be- 
sides, you  wouldn't  understand.  I'm 
not  like  you,  and  you're  not  like  me.  I 
— I'm  just  not  in  your  class." 

"Not — "  His  jaw  dropped.  "What  are 
you  talking  about?  We  were  talking 
about  one  thing,  and  now  you've 
switched  to  another.  Charlotte,  don't 
be  so — so  female!" 

She  blinked  and  folded  her  lips 
tightly  against  tears.  Of  course  he 
wouldn't  understand  —  because  he 
would  never  in  the  world  want  to. 
Little  Eddie  Bingham  had  set  her 
straight  about  that.  Why  don't  you 
come  down  to  earth,  Charl?  This  Bran- 
don guy  ain't  in  your  class.  He's  just 
slumming  down  here — he's  not  Selby 
Flats.  He's  a  writer  or  something  like 
that,  maybe  a  professor.  You  know  he 
told  me  he  studied  law  for  fifteen 
years?  And  still  he  ain't  a  lawyer.  You 
see,  you  don't  know  anything  about 
him.  And  you  never  will.  One  day  he'll 
pack  up  and  leave  here  just  the  way  he 
came  in. 

That's  why  she  was  going.  It  wasn't 
Larry  Lawrence.  So  long  as  he  stayed 
away  from  her  room,  she  didn't  care  if 
he  chose  to  live  here.  He  didn't  matter 
any  more.  But  Ray  Brandon  did. 

Ray  sensed  it,  knew  that  somehow 
her  staying  or  going  depended  upon 
him,  and  he  rebelled  inwardly.  This 
was  one  of  life's  traps,  the  impulse  to 
reach  out  and  stop  her,  to  give  of  him- 
self. And  yet — hadn't  she  given  to  him? 
Talk,  companionship,  a  woman's  com- 
panionship, something  he'd  been  as 
starved  for  as  he'd  been  for  the  sight  of 
his  son. 

"We're  not  alike?"  he  asked.  "Well, 
we  are  in  one  way.  You  see.  Charlotte, 
I  hate  someone,  too.  Hate  him  in  a  way 
you  can't  even  begin  to  imagine.  Some 
day  I'm  going  to — but 
never  mind  that.  The 
point  is,  I'm  waiting 
for  that  someday,  but 
I'm  not  losing  my 
head.  I  can't  afford  to 
make  a  fool  of  my- 
self— "  His  own  words 
stopped  him  short.  No, 
he  couldn't  afford  to 
make  a  fool  of  himself 
— and  one  quick,  sure 
way  of  doing  just  that 
would  be  to  talk  too 
much. 

Her  eyes  were  fixed 
upon  his,  and  it 
seemed  as  if  the  very 
breath  had  stopped  in 
her  throat.  "You're 
waiting  —  what  (Con- 
tinued   on    page    103) 


65 


66 


All  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  STANDARD  TIME 
For  Correct  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


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WALTER  O'KEEFE—  is  the  genial 
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ease.  She  broke  into  radio  through 
television  and  radio  work  at  the 
World's  Fair  and  has  been  heard  reg- 
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A.M. 


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all  over  the  globe.  Now,  early  morn- 
ing listeners  hear  his  careful  evalua- 
tion  of   the   news   on  ABC,   Mon.-Sat. 


■ 


w 


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10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  In  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst.  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:00 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

News 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Club  Time 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Service  Band 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Woody  and  Virginia 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Fun  House 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

• 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Woody  and  Virginia 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  V  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody  . 

Talks 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

Avenir  de  Monfred 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

Adrian  Rollini  Trio 

News 

Lone  Ranger 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Radio  City  Playhouse 

Special  Agent 

Original  Amateur 

Mr.  Chameleon 

8:15 

Hour,  Ted  Macks, 

8:30 

Great  Gildersleeve 

High  Adventure 

MX. 

Dr.  Christian 

8:55 

Billy  Rose 

9:00 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Hollywood  Story 

Go  For  the  House 

Harvest  of  Stars 

9:45 

with  James  Melton 

955 

3ill  Henry 

10:00 

The  Big  Story 

Opinion- Aire 

Bing  Crosby 

The  Whistler 

10:15 

10:30 

Curtain  Time 

Lionel  Hampton 
Show 

Gordon  MacRae 

Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Frontiers  of  Science 
Fred  Feibel 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 

7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Lennie  Herman 

Quintet 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Meredith  Willson 
Musical 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Philip  Morris  Show 
Date  With  Judy 

Mysterious  Traveler 

Official  Detective 
Billy  Rose 

Youth  Asks  the 

Government 
America's  Town 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mystery  Theater 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 
9:55 

Amos  'n'  Andy 

Fibber  McGee  & 
Molly 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Lone  Wolf 

Bill  Henry 

Edwin  D.  Canham 

We,  The  People 
Hit  The  Jackpot 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Bob  Hope  Show 
People  are  Funny 

Public  Defender 
Dance  Orchestra 

NAM  Series 
Labor  U.  S.  A. 

Rooftops  of  the  City 
Dance  Orchestra 

■**»£• 


PEGGY  KNUDSEN  —who  plays  Lois 
Graves,  sister  of  CBS'  Junior  Miss 
(Saturdays,  11:30  A.M.  EST)  is  a 
daughter  of  Duluth's  fire  chief,  Con- 
rad Knudsen.  She  got  into  the  theater 
business  easily  when  a  stage  director 
discovered  her  at  the  Stage  Door  Can- 
teen during  the  war;  in  no  time  she 
wras  playing  the  title  role  in  "My  Sis- 
ter Eileen."  Later,  she  made  her 
radio  debut  on   Bill   Goodwin's  Show. 


67 


H^BHTH          BaM 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

UBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bkfst  in  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

U.  S.  Service  Band 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Robert  Ripley 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  for  a  Day 

Maggi  McNellis 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

• 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Woody  and  Virginia 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Robert  Hurleigh 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Fun  House 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Of  Men  and  Books 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Lawrence  Welk 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Talent  Jackpot 

Better  Half  Quiz 
Billy  Rose 

Front  Page 

To  Be  Announced 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Sealtest  Village  Store 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Revere  Revue 
Bill  Henry 

Child's  World 
Candid  Microphone 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Family  Theatre 

Local  Programs 

Radio  Readers' 
Digest 

JOAN  LAZER— the  petite  11-year-old 
youngster  who  plays  the  role  of  Jill 
Malone  in  Young  Dr.  Malone,  daily, 
1:30  EST,  CBS,  was  born  in  Tel-Aviv. 
She  came  to  New  York  at  the  age  of 
two;  by  the  time  she  was  six,  she  had 
made  her  debut  singing  on  the  air. 
Joan's  most  ardent  admirer  is  her  two- 
year-old  brother  who  toddles  over  to 
the  radio  whenever  he  hears  her  voice 
on    the    air,    which    is    quite    often. 


A.IVk 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

The  Trumpeteers 
Songs  By  Bob  Atcher 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 

Clevelandaires 
Nelson  Olmsted 

Editor's  Diary 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
Joyce  Jordan 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  for  You 
Sing  Along 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 
Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Heart's  Desire 

Bfst.  H'wood 

Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Arthur  Godfrey 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON  PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 

Campus  Salute 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

U.  S.  Marine  Band 

Robert  McCormick 
Robert  Ripley 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  a  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Maggi  McNellis 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Woody  and  Virginia 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Johnson  Family 

Two  Ton  Baker 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Lum  'n'  Abner 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


68 


GALE  GORDON— tries  unsuccessful- 
ly, although  manfully,  every  Tuesday, 
as  Mayor  La  Trivia,  to  cope  with  the 
combined  minds  and  vocabularies  of 
Fibber  McGee  and  Molly.  He  is  also 
F.  Ogden  Williams,  the  weather  man 
on  this  popular  NBC  show.  Gordon, 
who  was  born  in  New  York  and  edu- 
cated in  England,  lives  on  a  San  Fer- 
nando Valley  ranch  where  he  putters 
around    with    his    hobby,    carpentry. 


6:00 
6:15 

6:30 
6:45 

News 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Report  from  the 

United  Nations 
Avenir  de  Monfred 
Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
Henry  J.  Taylor 
Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Editor 
Elmer  Davis 
Lone  Ranger 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:55 

Cities  Service  Band 

of  America 
Jimmy  Durante 

Show 

Great  Scenes  From 

Great  Plays 
Leave  It  to  the  Girls 
Billy  Rose 

The  Fat  Man 
This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 
Jack  Carson  Show 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 
Waltz  Time 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Col.  Stoopnagle's 
Quiz 

Break  the  Bank 
The  Sheriff 

Ford  Theatre 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Life  of  Riley 
Sports 

Meet  the  Press 
Tex  Beneke 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

Phil  Baker 
Spotlight  Revue 

^^SB&^B®BBLjHmQExE!l^^^$^wmM 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 

Robert  Hurleigh 
Practical  Gardner 

Shoppers  Special 

CBS  News  of  America 
Renfro  Valley  Folks 

Garden  Gate 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 

Frank  Merriwell 
Archie  Andrews 

Bill  Harrington 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 

This  Is  For  You 

Johnny  Thompson 
Saturday  Strings 

Red  Barber's  Club- 
House 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 

Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 

Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 

Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Buddy  Weed 

Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Campus  Capers 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affairs 

Stars  Over  Hollywood 

12:30 

American  Farmer 

12:45 

Coffee  With  Congress 

This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Alan  Lomax 

Maggie  McNellis, 

Grand  Central  Sta. 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

Edmond  Tomlinson 

Dance  Orch. 

Piano  Playhouse 

County  Fair 

1:45 

Report  From  Europe 

2:00 

Music  For  The 

Dance  Orch. 

Football 

Give  and  Take 

2:15 

Moment 

2:30 

Salute  to  Veterans 

Bands  For  Bonds 

Country  Journal 

2:45 

3:00 

Magic  Rhythm 

Report  from  Overseas 

3:15 

Adventures  in 
Science 

3:30 

Local  Programs 

Sports  Parade 

Cross-Section  U.S.A. 

3:45 

4:00 

Charlie  Slocum 

Stan  Dougherty 

4:15 

Dance  Orch. 

4:30 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:00 

Dizzy  Dean  Sports- 
cast 

Take  A  Number 

Tea  and  Crumpets 

5:15 

Lassie  Show 

5:30 

Dr.  1.  O. 

True  or  False 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 

Dave  Stephen's 
Orch. 

•  5:45 

Dorothy  Guldheim 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:45 

Peter  Roberts 
Art  of  Living 

Dance  Orchestra 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

Red  Barber  Sports 
Show 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Curtain  Time 

Hawaii  Calls 

To  Be  Announced 
Mel  Allen 

Treasury  Bond  Show 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Saturday  Night 
Serenade 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Johnny  Fletcher 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Three  For  The 
Money 

Gang  Busters 
What's  My  Name? 

Morey  Amsterdam 

Show 
It  Pays  To  Be 

Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 

10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 
Dennis  Day 

Grand  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Whiz  Quiz  With 
Johnny  Olsen, 
M.C. 

Hayloft  Hoedown 

Let's  Dance,  America 

GEORGE  PETRIE  —  did  nothing 
about  his  theatrical  ambitions  until 
after  graduating  from  USC.  He  got 
his  start  with  the  Federal  Theatre 
Project  in  his  hometown,  New  Haven, 
Connecticut.  Since  then,  Broadway 
has  seen  him  in  "Winged  Victory," 
"Mr.  Big,"  "Pastoral,"  and  in  the  mo- 
tion picture,  "Boomerang."  On  the  air, 
he  is  heard  as  D.A.  Markham  in  Philo 
Vance,  on  Mon.  at  10  P.M.  EST,  MBS. 


Light  and  small  is 
theHearette :  8 1/-2.  oz. 


A  new  electronic  instrument  that 
will  bring  hearing  aid  to  millions 
of  people  who  have  hearing  prob- 
lems is  the  Hearette.  This  light- 
weight, pocket-sized  device  is  of 
particular  value  to  radio  listeners 
who  have  slight  hearing  defi- 
ciences.  Weighing  only  8V2  ounces 
and  contained  in  a  lucite  case,  the 
Hearette  is  capable  of  increasing 
the  power  of  sound  delivered  to  the 
ear  more  than  100,000  times. 


Big-picture  television  is  smartly  designed  in  a 
space-thrifty  cabinet  of  genuine  mahogany  in  the 
latest    receiver    introduced    by    Crosley.     This    set, 


Crosley's      latest: 
Model      9-407M. 


Model  9-407M,  offers  complete  FM  reception  as  well 
as  all-channel  television  reception.  The  cabinet  size 
is  only  22V2  inches  wide  by  19V2  inches  deep  by 
16  inches  high. 


Keeping  pace  with  the  current  trends  in  interior 
decoration,  RCA  Victor  has  announced  that  their 
popular  table  model,  77TJ,  is  now  available  in  a 
blond  mahogany  finish  in  keeping  with  modern 
room  settings.  The  cabinet  front  and  side  panels 
are  of  solid  mahogany,  while  the  lid  is  finished,  top 
and  bottom,  with  mahogany  stripe  veneer. 


Stewart -Warner  has 
announced  a  new  Dec- 
orators line,  available  in 
six  new  cabinet  designs. 
All  the  sets  are  radio- 
phonograph  combina- 
tions and  are  supplied  in 
straight  AM  or  in  com- 
bination AM-FM.  All 
sets  have  two  speakers 
and  built-in  aerials. 


Stewart-Warner:  One  of  six. 


69 


Mrs.  Helen  Hines  (1)  tells  Terry  Bur- 
ton that  home  training  is  the  most  im- 
portant    influence     in     anyone's     life. 


SUPPOSE  that  among  the  many  millions  of  mothers  in 
our  country  you  were  chosen  as  the  American  Mother  of 
the  Year!  That  was  exactly  what  happened  to  Mrs. 
Helen  G.  Hines  of  Springfield,  111.  When  she  appeared  as 
our  Family  Counselor  she  had  so  much  to  say  that  I  de- 
cided the  best  way  to  pass  it  on  to  you  would  be  to  let 
Mrs.  Hines  speak  for  herself  and  this  is  what  she  told  us: 

"The  most  important  influence  in  anyone's  life  is  the 
training  he  receives  at  home.  It  seems  to  me  that  too  many 
mothers  of  today  are  forgetting  this  responsibility — that  of 
teaching  their  children  the  great  principles  of  living.  Of 
course,  some  of  it  must  be  taken  care  of  in  schools  and 
churches,  but  there  is  a  growing  tendency  to  leave  the 
major  part  of  the  job  to  these  organizations,  when  the 
home  is  the  best  place  to  set  a  pattern  of  life  for  children. 

"In  my  opinion,  two  principles  which  children  should  be 
taught  very  early  are  respect  for  authority  and  considera- 
tion for  the  rights  of  others.  I  am  old-fashioned  enough  to 
believe  that  the  parents,  not  the  children,  should  run  the 
home,  and  that  the  children  should  accept  the  guidance  of 
mature  individuals  until  they  have  learned  how  to  conduct 
themselves  so  as  to  insure  their  happiness  and  security. 

"There  seems  to  be  a  decided  trend  in  modern  education 
to  make  things  too  easy  and  enjoyable,  rather  than  a  mat- 
ter of  honest-to-goodness  hard  work.  We  are  doing  our 
children  an  injustice  if  we  let  them  believe  that  anything 
worthwhile  can  be  accomplished  without  hard  work. 

"In  order  to  prepare  our  children  for  life,  I  believe  they 
should  be  taught  to  have  faith  in  God.  Children  of  parents 
who  have  strong  religious  convictions  have  a  much  better 
chance  for  happiness  than  those  who  come  from  homes 
where  spiritual  things  have  little  value.  A  belief  in  God  is 
essential  for  the  mother  who  would  influence  the  lives  of 
her  children  for  noble  manhood  and  womanhood." 

That  is  something  we  all  could  think  about. 

If  there  is  some  topic  that  you  would  like  to  have  dis- 
cussed by  one  of  our  Family  Counselors,  won't  you  send 
it  along  to  me.  in  care  of  Radio  Mirror? 


By 

TERRY 
BURTON 


70 


Every  Wednesday,  The  Second  Mr».  Burton  ie  visited  by  an  authority  on  dome  phone  of  women'*  world  Interest.  Through  thin  department,  Terry 
Burton  eharea  eome  of  theoe  vieits  with  Kadio  Mirror  reader*.  The  Second  Mr».  Barton  ie  heard  Monday  through  Friday,  2  P.  M.  EST,  CBS. 


Her  Inner  Self  glows  through 
her  Lovely  Face 

Wherever  she  goes,  she  brings  love- 
liness with  her,  fun  and  joyousness 
and  friendliness.  You  can  see  in  her 
face  what  a  delightful-to-be-with 
person  she  is. 

Your  face  is  speaking  for  you  to 
everyone  who  sees  you.  It  is  the  You 
that  others  see  first — the  outgoing 
expression  of  your  inner  self. 
Nothing  about  you  has  more  lovely 
possibilities — or  responds  more 
gratefully  to  your  loving  attention. 


teJed 


Qj/e 


The  Duchess*  complexion  is  glowing — clear  and  soft  with  perfect  grooming 


don't  know  a  better  face  cream  in  the  world, 
the  beautiful  Duchess  says 


lOU  are  responsible  for  what  your  face 
gives  out  to  the  world — the  way  it  reveals 
the  Inner  You  to  others.  Be  exacting, 
then,  in  the  way  you  care  for  it.  Always  at 
bedtime  (for  day  cleansings,  too)  do  this 
Pond's  "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment: 

Hot  Stimulation — splash  face  with  hot  water. 

Cream  Cleanse — swirl  Pond's  Cold  Cream  all 
over  your  face.  This  will  soften  and  sweep  dirt 
and  make-up  from  pore  openings.  Tissue  off. 

Cream  Rinse — swirl  on  a  second  Pond's  cream- 
ing. This  rinses  off  last  traces  of  dirt,  leaves 
skin  lubricated,  immaculate.  Tissue  off. 

Cold  Stimulation — a  tonic  cold  water  splash,] 


This  "Outside-Inside"  Face  Treatment 
with  Pond's  literally  works  on  both  sides 
of  your  skin.  From  the  Outside — Pond's 
Cold  Cream  wraps  around  surface  dirt  and 
make-up  as  you  massage — sweeps  them 
cleanly  away  as  you  tissue  off.  From  the 
Inside — every  step  quickens  beauty-giving 
circulation. 

It's  not  vanity  to  develop  the  beautv  of 
your  face.  When  you  look  lovely  it  does 
something  special  and  happv  to  you,  and 
to  everyone  who  sees  you.  It  brings  the 
real  Inner  You  closer  to  others. 


Pond's  is  used  by  more  women  than 
any  other  face  cream.  Get  yourself  a 
big  jur  of  snowy-soft  Pond's — todavl 


71 


(S 


*v£S5* 


o 


fa9*. 


^:^s 


rfipi^ 


^ 


***0&8 


Mi 


°rel?*your 


full     ,^B 
pound  *_l**ft 


sliamV00 


R 
M 

72 


Used  most  by  professional 

beauticians  .  .  .  Oceans  of 
Joam  even  in  hard  water  .  .  . 
leaves  hair  soft.  .  .  manageable 
no  soap  film 

111  Eli    coins    m  bus  hies.    ($y 


Our  Boss,  Joe  Kelly 

{Continued  from  page  28) 


shoulder  just  before  you  go  into  the 
studio.  "Don't  be  nervous,"  he  tells  you. 
"Do  exactly  as  you  would  at  home.  I'll 
find  a  question  you  can  answer,  and 
when  I  do,  get  your  hand  up  fast.  You'll 
have  fun." 

All  of  us  know  Mr.  Kelly  is  on  the 
side  of  a  new  kid,  and  remembering  our 
own  first  days,  we  follow  his  lead  to 
give  the  new  member  a  chance.  We 
hope  you  heard  him  the  day  five-year- 
old  Bobby  Senescu  joined  us. 

Bobby  is  so  tiny  someone  should  have 
carried  his  gown  like  a  princess'  train. 
He  didn't  know  how  to  pick  it  up  him- 
self, and  he  tripped  at  every  step.  He 
had  to  sit  on  three  phone  books  to  reach 
his  microphone. 

Perched  like  an  alert  little  bird,  with 
his  head  cocked  on  one  side  to  keep  the 
tassle  of  his  cap  out  of  his  eyes,  he  just 
sat  there  and  let  question  after  question 
go  by. 

Then  came  one  from  John  Carlson  of 
Chicago.  The  pianist  was  to  play  parts 
of  a  musical  composition,  and  from  the 
style  of  the  music  we  were  to  identify 
the  composer,  and  if  possible,  give  the 
name  of  the  piece.    . 

Both  of  us  tried  and  got  snarled  up. 
Mr.  Kelly  must  have  noticed  the  second 
Bobby  lifted  his  hand  off  his  desk,  for 
he  cut  us  short. 

"Bobby?" 

That  little  mite  leaned  into  his  micro- 
phone. "Rachmaninoff's  'Variation  on  a 
Paganini  Theme.'  "  Sawing  at  an  imag- 
inary fiddle,  he  hummed  a  funny  zzzzzz 
sound,  going  on  from  the  bar  where 
the  pianist  had  left  off. 

"That's  right!"  Mr.  Kelly  shouted, 
happy  as  if  someone  had  given  him  a 
million  dollars.  "Now  Bobby,  try  again. 
Mr.  Carlson  wants  to  know  if  you  can 
identify  the  composer  and  composition 
of  this  one." 

Again  the  pianist  sounded  a  few 
notes.  Bobby's  arm  waved  wildly.  He 
had  caught  on.  "Same  thing,  upside 
down." 

Mr.  Kelly  wasn't  prepared  for  so 
swift  an  answer.  He  started  to  glance 
at  his  card,  but  even  as  he  did  so,  he 
translated  Bobby's  term. 

"Right.  Right  again.  It's  Rachman- 
inoff's 'Variation  on  a  Paganini  Theme' 
— inverted." 

That  time  the  pianist  had  played  the 
same  piece,  but  had  made  it  an  inver- 
sion of  the  opening  theme  he  had  just 
finished. 

The  question  could  well  have  stumped 
one  with  many  more  years  of  musical 


study  than  Bobby.  Mr.  Kelly  wanted 
to  be  sure  everyone  appreciated  his 
accomplishment.  He  waved  for  audi- 
ence applause,  exclaiming,  "Isn't  that 
fine?  Isn't  that  wonderful  for  a  five- 
year-old?" 

By  the  next  Sunday,  Bobby  was 
talking  up  with  the  rest  of  us.  The 
question  was:  "If  a  violin  player  emp- 
tied his  pockets,  what  might  you  find, 
indicating  his  profession?" 

Bobby  said  a  bridge,  resin,  strings. 
Lonnie  Lunde  added  a  tuning  key.  Mr. 
Kelly  didn't  understand.  He  consulted 
Bobby.  Bobby  said  yes,  he  might  carry 
a  spare  peg — the  key  you  wind  to  tune 
the  strings.  Both  of  us  named  a  chin 
rest.    Bobby  objected. 

"What's  the  matter,  Bobby?"  Mr. 
Kelly  asked.  "Why  wouldn't  a  violin 
player  have  a  chin  rest?" 

"A  chin  rest  goes  under  his  chin,  not 
in  his  pocket,"  said  Bobby.  We  laughed 
with  the  audience.  We  all  felt  he  had 
earned  credit  for  that  answer. 

That's  the  way  Mr.  Kelly  is.  He 
doesn't  dare  you  to  answer  a  question 
correctly,  like  some  grown  ups  do.  He 
acts  like  he  expects  you  to  know,  and 
that  it  is  his  job  to  help  you  say  it  right. 
When  you  have,  it's  a  wonderful  feel- 
ing to  hear  him  shout,  "Yes  siree!  That's 
very,  very  good!  I  wish  I  could  do 
that." 

We  have  talked  it  over,  and  we  con- 
clude Mr.  Kelly  is  such  a  good  Chief 
Quizzer  because  he  knows  what  it  is 
like  to  be  somewhat  young  and  have  to 
face  large  audiences.  Had  there  been  a 
Quiz  Kids  program  when  he  was  a  boy, 
he  undoubtedly  would  have  been  on  it, 
for  he  was  a  very  remarkable  child. 

Since  Mr.  Kelly  talks  very  little  about 
himself  in  a  serious  fashion,  we  had  to 
quiz  the  Chief  Quizzer  to  find  out  about 
this. 

We  learned  that  Mr.  Kelly  never 
went  to  school  a  day  after  he  was  eight 
years  old  and  finished  third  grade. 

He  already  had  a  reputation  as  a  boy 
soprano  by  that  time,  for  when  he  was 
six,  he  won  a  five-dollar  prize  for  sing- 
ing "The  Holy  City"  in  an  amateur 
contest  at  an  Indianapolis  theater.  He 
had  won  many  such  prizes  by  the  time 
he  was  eight  and  went  to  Crawfords- 
ville,  Indiana,  to  spend  the  summer 
with  his  grandmother. 

His  father  had  died,  and  the  family 
had  very  little  money.  He  was  happy 
when  a  theater  manager  hired  him  to 
sing  "Down  by  the  Old  Mill  Stream" 
while  pictures  (Continued  on  page  74) 


ltd  afieefc  mta 
fvUvate  (wed. . . 

...  So  writes  one  listener  about  the  "realness"  .  .  . 
the  true-to-life  quality  ...  of  the  daily  dramas 
on  "My  True  Story"  Radio  Program,  prepared 
in  cooperation  with  the  editors  of  True  Story 
magazine. 

Listen  to  radio's  greatest  morning  show  Monday 
through  Friday  mornings  and  you'll  understand 
why  so  many  thousands  of  women  say  "This  is 
genuine!  This  is  real  life!"  You'll  be  fascinated. 


7**e  U  "MY  TRUE  STORY" 


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with  a  Duo-Therm  heater  with  Power-air! 


When  you  can  have  substantial  fuel  oil 
savings,  clean,  workless  heat  and  fine 
period  furniture  styling— why  accept  less 
in  a  heater  for  your  home? 

But  remember:  you  get  all  three  only 
in  a  Duo-Therm  heater! 

Power-Air  saves  up  to 
1  gallon  of  oil  out  of  every  4! 

Make  no  mistake:  only  Duo-Therm  heat- 
ers have  this  revolutionary  Blower.  And 
tests  made  by  an  independent  authority 
in  a  cold  Northern  climate  prove  beyond 
a  shadow  of  a  doubt  that  Duo-Therm 
with  Power- Air  actually  saves  up  to  25% 
on  fuel  oil!  (This  saving  by  itself  can 
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Because  it  is  a  Blower— not  a  fan  — 
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Yes,  in  addition  to  Power-Air  fuel  sav- 
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It  mixes  air  and  oil  in  6  stages  (an- 
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You  beautify  your  home 
as  you  heat  it 

Duo-Therm  heaters  — and  only  Duo- 
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furniture  to  add  beauty  to  a  room.  Only 
Duo -Therm  gives  you  its  newly  devel- 
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And  when  you  own  a  Duo-Therm  you 
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City- 


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Lansing  3,  Michigan 

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.  State- 


73 


*       *       *       *       * 


Don't  be 
Half -safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


R 
M 

74 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl  ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dongers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

AM  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed  — so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39(S  plus  tax. 

(Advertisement) 


*       •        *       *       * 


(Continued  jrom  page  72)  of  the  stream 
and  the  mill  were  flashed  on  the  screen. 
That  led  to  fifty  dollars  a  week  with 
the  Doyle  stock  company  as  "Master 
Joe  Kelly,  the  Irish  Nightingale."  He 
learned  geography  by  traveling,  and 
arithmetic  by  paying  his  hotel  bill. 

No  wonder  he  understands  how  we 
get  nervous  in  front  of  the  audience. 

He  knows,  too,  how  it  feels  to  fail. 
He  had  played  theaters  all  over  the 
country,  and  at  fourteen  was  the  young- 
est minstrel  man  in  America.  His  salary 
was  seventy-five  dollars  a  week. 

Then  one  day  he  reached  for  his  high 
note.  Not  a  sound  came  out.  Little 
Joe  Kelly's  voice  had  changed;  he  was 
through. 

His  singing  had  helped  support  the 
Kelly  family.  All  the  time  he  traveled, 
he  sent  money  home.  His  next  job  was 
as  an  office  boy,  but  that  paid  twelve 
dollars  a  week  instead  of  seventy-five. 

To  learn  to  play  the  piano,  he  spent 
his  noon  hours  in  dime  store  music  de- 
partments watching  the  girl  pianists. 
He  organized  his  own  dance  band, 
"Kelly's  Klowns,"  then  gave  it  up  to 
become  an  actor  in  a  touring  stock 
company. 

ON  St.  Patrick's  Day,  1923,  at  Sault 
Sainte  Marie,  Ontario,  he  married 
the  company's  pretty  brunette  business 
manager,  Mary,  and  eventually  they 
settled  down  in  Benton  Harbor,  Michi- 
gan. 

Mr.  Kelly  had  a  variety  of  jobs  until 
he  broke  into  radio  at  the  same  station 
where  his  son,  Joe  Jr.,  now  is  getting 
his  start  as  an  announcer. 

In  1933,  he  borrowed  money  to  come 
to  Chicago.  He  got  his  first  announc- 
ing job  at  WLS,  and  soon  became 
Chief  Bell  Ringer  of  the  National  Barn 
Dance. 

He  was  also  "Jolly  Joe,"  the  chil- 
dren's waker-upper,  on  a  morning  pro- 
gram. Peering  through  his  "magic 
telescope,"  he  helped  them  get  ready 
for  school  by  keeping  score  while  they 
raced  to  get  dressed.  Some  mornings 
the  girls  won;  others,  the  boys  were 
ahead.  As  they  scrambled  into  their 
clothes,  he  told  them  wonderful  stories 
about  Polly  the  Parrot  and  Scamper 
the  Billygoat. 

In  1940,  Lou  Cowan,  whose  business 
it  is  to  dream  up  radio  programs,  had 
the  idea  for  the  Quiz  Kids.  Walter 
Wade,  of  the  Wade  Advertising  Agency, 
liked  it,  and  together  they  got  the  show 
ready  for  the  air.  As  the  first  board  of 
kids,  Gerard  Darrow,  Cynthia  Cline, 
Joan  Bishop  and  Van  Dyke  Tiers  quali- 
fied, but  sixteen  prospective  quiz  mast- 
ers did  not.  They  tried  college  profes- 
sors, writers  and  announcers.  The  kids 
got  scared  and  froze,  and  the  would-be 
Chief  Quizzers  flunked. 

Then  Mr.  Wade  thought  of  Joe  Kelly. 
Mr.  Kelly  did  not  want  to  audition,  but 
he  was  under  personal  contract  to  Mr. 
Wade,  and  when  Mr.  Wade  asked,  Mr. 
Kelly  tried. 

The  kids  had  fun.  They  talked  and 
talked. 

Mr.  Kelly  went  to  Canada  on  a  vaca- 
tion and  forgot  all  about  it.  He  had 
helped  out  his  friend  Mr.  Wade,  but 
that  was  all  there  was  to  it.  These  kids 
could  confuse  the  professors,  and  he 
had  only  a  third  grade  education.  So 
far  as  he  was  concerned,  he  wasn't 
qualified  for  the  job. 

He  was  having  a  fine  time  in  the 
wilderness  when  Mr.  Wade  and  Mr. 
Cowan  wired,  "Come  back.  You're  the 
Chief  Quizzer." 

We  asked  members  of  Mr.  Cowan's 
staff  to  tell  us  a  little  more  about  why 
they  chose  Mr    Kelly. 


They  explained  that  the  show  is  not 
intended  to  test  the  Chief  Quizzer's 
knowledge;  its  object  is  to  bring  out 
what  we  Kids  have  learned. 

He  can  check  our  replies  against  the 
information  on  the  cards  the  research 
department  provides,  but  first  he  has 
to  get  us  to  give  the  answers. 

We're  eager  to  give  Mr.  Kelly  the 
answers  because  we  feel  he  under- 
stands that  you  can  know  something 
perfectly,  but  if  some  one  dares  you  to 
say  it,  you  can  get  so  excited  every- 
thing erases  out  of  your  mind  like  chalk 
off  a  blackboard. 

It  may  be  that  Mr.  Kelly  has  never 
forgotten  the  way  he  felt  the  day  his 
voice  changed,  and  he  stood  in  front  of 
an  audience,  unable  to  sing  a  note.  If 
one  of  us  gets  into  a  tight  spot,  he  helps 
us  all  he  can — short  of  giving  away  the 
answer. 

I   (Joel)  want  to  tell  you  about  the 
day  he  helped  me  the  most. 

I  hadn't  missed  a  math  problem  in  a 
month,  and  even  before  the  show  I  had 
a  feeling  this  was  the  day.  Mr.  Kelly 
must  have  noticed  what  happens  when 
I  miss — I  get  red  in  the  face  and  so 
flustered  I  can't  concentrate  any  more. 

I  should  have  solved  that  one.  When 
Mr.  Kelly  said,  "No,  I'm  sorry  Joel,  but 
that  isn't  right  ..."  I  started  to  burn. 
He  must  have  seen  me  blush  red  as  my 
gown. 

He  turned  his  back  to  the  audience 
and  talked  only  to  me.  "Never  mind, 
Joel.  You'll  get  the  next  one.  Just 
take  it  easy." 

I  calmed  down.  I  was  away  behind 
at  the  time,  but  instead  of  having  my 
thoughts  scrambled,  I  answered  the 
next  questions  correctly  and  came  in 
second. 

And  I,  (Rinny)  felt  the  worst  the 
day  I  arrived  with  a  black  eye.  Hon- 
estly, I  don't  know  when  I've  been  so 
embarrassed. 

Some  people  pretended  not  to  notice; 
some  kidded  me.  I  don't  know  which 
was  worse.  Apparently,  it  is  very  funny 
when  a  thirteen-year-old  young  lady 
sports  a  shiner. 

MR.  KELLY,  however,  was  perfectly 
matter-of-fact.  "How  did  you  get 
it?" 

"I  was  playing  a  little  touch  football 
at  a  picnic,"  I  almost  whispered.  I  was 
that  fussed. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Kelly,  "you'll  just 
have  to  develop  a  little  better  defense." 
I  didn't  mind  after  that. 

Perhaps  the  reason  we  trust  Mr. 
Kelly  so  much  is  because  we  have  never 
seen  him  angry.  Even  on  out  of  town 
trips,  when  we  invent  games  which  are 
somewhat  hectic  for  a  pullman,  and  the 
other  grown  ups  get  provoked;  he  just 
smiles. 

He's  a  genius,  too,  at  restoring  order 
when  we  start  scuffling  before  the  show. 
We'll  admit  things  get  a  bit  wild. 

As  we  told  you,  we  reach  NBC  just 
half  an  hour  before  we  go  on  the  air. 
Usually,  we  wait  in  a  small  studio  until 
time  to  make  our  entrance.  We  haven't 
seen  each  other  for  a  week,  and  we  have 
lots  of  things  saved  up  to  say. 

One  of  us  will  grab  a  dead  mike  to 
imitate  a  noted  announcer.  Another 
disagrees  with  his  interpretation  and 
tries  to  take  it  away.  In  seconds,  we're 
all  shouting  at  once. 

Then  Mr.  Kelly  walks  in.  He'll  say, 
"Cut  it  out,  Kids.  We  don't  want  any 
more  teeth  lost  around  here." 

I  (Joel)  carefully  count  molars  and 
incisors.  I  lost  my  baby  teeth  in  twelve 
different  states,  but  I  need  these.  To 
change  the  subject,  I  ask,  "What's  on 
the  cards  today?" 


Those  cards  provide  our  best  running 
gag.    Everyone  joins  in  the  clamor. 

"What  are  the  questions?" 

"Is  there  one  I  can  answer?" 

"Please,  Mr.  Kelly,  let  us  have  just 
a  little  peek." 

He  laughs  and  flips  the  pack,  but  it's 
always  the  blank  sides  he  shows  us. 
Or  he'll  reach  out,  then  notice  all  of  a 
sudden  he's  aimed  toward  a  Quiz  Kid, 
and  quick  pass  them  to  a  member  of  the 
staff.  Other  times  he'll  pretend  to  be 
serious,  start  to  give  them  to  us,  then 
say,  "Oh,  I  forgot.  These  are  last 
week's." 

While  this  goes  on,  Lonnie  Lunde 
heads  for  the  piano.  He  has  been  a 
pianist  and  composer  since  he  was  four, 
and  can,  we  think,  play  any  piece  ever 
written.  Mr.  Kelly,  on  the  other  hand, 
learned  his  piano  in  dime  stores. 

But  we  love  his  boogie.  One  of  us 
shouts,  "Play  for  us,  Mr.  Kelly,  please 
play  for  us." 

Now  we  have  been  around  radio  sta- 
tions long  enough  to  know  everyone 
gets  tense  before  a  big  network  show. 
Any  ordinary  man  on  his  way  to  the 
studio  would  refuse. 

BUT  not  our  Mr.  Kelly.  He  sits  right 
down.  Often  he  and  Lonnie  play 
duets,  but  the  most  hectic  session  came 
the  day  we  got  our  organist,  Howard 
Peterson,  into  it,  too.  Mr.  Kelly  and  he 
raced.  Faster  and  faster  they  played. 
It  ended  up  in  a  positive  tailspin. 

Best  of  all,  Mr.  Kelly  likes  the  song 
Lonnie  wrote  for  him: 


The  Chief  Quizzer 

You'll  find  a  lot  of  Kellys, 

No  matter  where  you  go; 

But  to  the  Quiz  Kids  there's  just  one 

The  Kelly  known  as  Joe — 

Joe  Kelly,  the  Chief  Quizzer 

He  gives  us  no  chance  to  relax — 

Joe  Kelly,  the  Chief  Quizzer 

He   makes   us   come   up   with   the 

facts — 
He  throws  the  questions  at  us,  some 

easy,  some  hard, 
For    our    tender    ages    he    has    no 

regard; 
'Cause  he's  got  the  answers  right 

there  on  his  card, 
Joe  Kelly,  the  Quizzer. 

We're  ready  for  anything  by  the  time 
we  file  into  the  studio.  We  laugh 
ahead  of  the  audience  when,  just  before 
air  time,  Mr.  Kelly  introduces  our  an- 
nouncer, Bob  Murphy,  saying,  "Kelly 
and  Murphy,  what  a  pair!  It's  a  great 
day  for  the  Irish.  .  .  .  Let  me  get  these 
spectacles  on  .  .  .  I'm  having  a  little 
difficulty  .  .  .  they're  a  new  pair  I'm 
breaking  in  for  my  wife  .  .  .  Rinny, 
here's  a  question  .  .  .  why  do  you  think 
people  fall  in  love?" 

The  laughs  ring  out,  and  before  we 
have  a  chance  to  get  solemn  or  scared, 
we're  on  the  air,  and  he's  asking  the 
serious  questions  as  happily  as  he  did 
the  foolish  ones. 

Mr.  Kelly's  formal  education  may 
have  ended  with  the  third  grade,  but 
he  has  made  us  realize  a  smart  person 
doesn't  do   all  his  learning  in   school. 

Even  our  audience  senses,  we  think, 
that  Mr.  Kelly  is  like  a  kindly  step- 
father to  every  Quiz  Kid.  We  find  that 
out  when  we  get  into  scraps  with  other 
kids  at  school.  If  they  get  really  mad 
at  us,  they  don't  say,  "I'll  tell  your 
father." 

Oh  no.  When  you're  a  Quiz  Kid,  it 
isn't  as  simple  as  that.  They  say,  "We'll 
write  Joe  Kelly."  And  we  wouldn't  be 
surprised  if  some  of  them  do 


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Bachelor  Girl  in 
Hollywood 

(Continued  from  page  57) 

struck  out  on  her  own,  he  has  done  all 
of  her  recordings  with  her,  as  well  as 
conducted  for  her  radio  appearances. 

Jo  brags  that  Paul  is  a  blossoming 
song  writer  as  well  as  a  top  conductor 
and  arranger,  and  points  to  his  three 
recent  hit  tunes,  "I  Should  Care,"  "Day 
by  Day"  and  "Ain't  Ya  Ever  Coming 
Back?" 

Some  of  Paul's  songs  have  emanated 
from  Jo's  living  room,  where  an  audi- 
ence of  his  pals  is  always  ready  to  give 
a  new  work  a  quick  run  through.  Some 
of  those  off-the-cuff  concerts  are  bet- 
ter than  the  broadcasts,  say  the  insiders 
who've  heard  them. 

"We  never  know  when  we're  kid- 
ding," Jo  explains,  recalling  the  fan- 
tastic story  back  of  her  biggest  record 
hit.  the  gag  version  of  "Temptation" 
which  reached  the  juke  boxes  as  "Tim- 
tay-shun." 

Jo  made  the  record  in  a  half  an  hour 
— "strictly  the  one  take" — at  the  end  of 
an  all-day  recording  session  with  the 
Capitol  Records  people. 

THE  arrangement  had  been  whipped 
up  for  another  singer,  who  got  sick  at 
the  last  minute  and  failed  to  keep  the 
recording  date.  Jim  Conkling,  of  Capi- 
tol, suggested  that  Jo  do  it — "lust  for  a 
gag." 

It  took  half  an  hour  to  make  it.  Jo 
says,  and  five  minutes  to  forget  it.  It 
was  just  a  way  of  working  off  steam. 

She  was  so  sure  she  had  heard  the 
last  of  it  that  she  didn't  even  tell  Mi- 
chael Nidorf,  her  manager,  that  the 
record  was  made. 

But  Capitol  released  the  platter,  cred- 
iting the  vocal  to  "Cinderella  G.  Stump." 

After  about  a  month,  Conkling  tele- 
phoned Jo  to  report. 

"Don't  look  now,"  he  said,  "but  I 
think  'Tim-tay-shun'  is  going  to  cause 
some  talk."  Six  hundred  thousand  re- 
orders were  in. 

As  the  hepsters  all  know,  "Tim-tay- 
shun"  long  ago  passed  the  million  mark, 
making  recording  history. 

If  she's  going  to  make  history,  Jo 
would  be  just  as  glad  if  it  were  all  that 
easy. 

Her  big  upsurge  in  the  popularity 
polls  in  the  past  two  years  has  drummed 
up  a  fistful  of  theater  and  night  club 
offers.  This  seemed  like  a  good  idea,  at 
first.  But  Jo  tried  both,  "and  ran  home 
screaming." 

"It's  too  tough — the  fancy  get-ups, 
the  five-a-day,  the  crowds." 

She  particularly  hated  the  night  club 
business,  although  she  packed  La  Mar- 
tinique in  New  York  every  night  during 
her  engagement.  Night  clubs  have  all 
the  bad  features  of  theaters,  she  says, 
plus  later  hours,  more  smoke,  more 
noise,  and  more  drunks. 

The  easy-going  life  is  the  life  for  Jo. 
Where  but  in  radio  could  she  sleep  all 
night  and,  if  she  wants  to,  half  the  day? 
In  what  other  business  could  she  get  by 
with  the  sweaters  and  old  flannel  robes 
which  are  her  favorite  costumes,  spend 
every  weekend  "at  home"  with  the 
family,  and  week  nights  at  home  with 
a  new  detective  story?  Nowhere  else 
in  the  entertainment  business,  that's 
sure. 

Sure  there  are  more  people — and 
more  applause — if  you  look  out  toward 
the  town. 

But,  says  Jo  Stafford — who  wants  it? 


Art  Linkletter 

(Continued  from   page   53) 

of  the  way,  the  cards  are  out  and 
everybody  is  pinned  down  to  bridge  or 
gin  rummy," 

Art  thinks  that  offering  a  deck  of 
cards  to  such  guests  is  an  insult  to  the 
guests  and  a  confession  of  intellectual 
bankruptcy  on  the  part  of  the  hosts.  As 
for  himself,  he  has  sworn  never  to  learn 
gin  rummy. 

The  old  fashioned  art  of  conversation 
is  cultivated  at  the  Linkletter  home, 
and  it  is  to  help  the  children  develop 
their  ideas  and  vocabularies,  the  neces- 
sary antennae  for  ready  communication 
with  their  world  and  the  people  in  it, 
that  Art  and  Lois  plan  their  home  life 
with  an  eye  to  spending  the  maximum 
amount  of  time  with  the  youngsters. 

Even  two-year-old  Sharon  —  Sha- 
Sha,  as  she  herself  says  it — is  allowed 
to  dine  with  the  family  on  stay-at-home 
evenings,  and  her  parents  are  perfectly 
happy  to  advance  their  own  dinner 
hour  to  six  o'clock  so  that  the  littlest  of 
their  children  can  be  with  them. 

The  Linkletters  expect  their  fifth 
child  in  October,  and  are  giving  Sharon 
every  chance  to  exploit  her  position  as 
the  youngest. 

Robert,  almost  four,  feels  very  grown 
up  when  Sharon  is  around,  and  a  great 
deal  more  articulate,  his  father  says, 
than  the  time  he  appeared  on  his 
father's  House  Party  program  and  was 
unable  to  utter  a  word. 

The  really  "grown-up"  children — 
Jack,  who  is  eleven,  and  Dawn,  nine, 
laugh  indulgently  at  this  childish  non- 
sense which  they  have  long  since,  of 
course,  outgrown.  For  them  the  dinner 
hour  is  the  big  chance  of  the  day  to 
regale  their  parents  with  stories  of 
their  day  at  school. 

Jack  goes  to  Black  Foxe,  a  military 
school,  and  Dawn  to  Westlake,  a  private 
school  for  girls.  They  will  go  to  public 
schools  when  they  reach  the  Junior 
High  School  level,  their  parents  have 
decided.  Art,  who  studied  to  be  a 
teacher,  is  horrified  at  the  teacher-load 
which  prevails  in  the  Los  Angeles  city 
schools,  and  declares  that  no  teacher — 
no  matter  how  competent — can  teach 
fifty  children  at  one  sitting.  At  West- 
lake,  Dawn's  classes  hold  fourteen  or 
fifteen,  which  her  father  thinks  is  more 
reasonable. 

It  is  characteristic  of  Art  that  he 
wants  nothing  but  the  best  for  his  chil- 
dren, for  Lois  and  himself,  too. 

He  started  life  an  orphan,  was  later 
adopted.  He  managed  a  college  educa- 
tion only  by  dint  of  the  hardest  kind  of 
part-time  jobs.  Now  that  he  can  afford 
it,  he  feels  absolutely  no  guilt  about 
taking  it  easy. 

When  he  and  Lois  were  honeymoon- 
ing thirteen  years  ago  he  did  his  last 
odd  job  around  the  house.  His  wife  had 
a  new  floor  lamp  and  asked  him  to  in- 
stall the  extension  cord  needed  to  con- 
nect it.  Art  did,  and  blew  the  fuse.  He 
has  never  "fixed"  anything  since — and 
Lois  knows  better  than  to  ask  him. 

Their  house,  which  surmounts  a 
sloping  acre  in  the  heart  of  Hollywood, 
has  everything  for  a  relaxed  and  luxur- 
ious life — terraces  with  play  equipment 
for  the  children,  a  badminton  court,  the 
swimming  pool.  The  purple  jacaranda 
trees  at  the  front  of  the  house  are  beau- 
tiful. The  whole  place  is  a  sort  of 
walled-in  oasis  in  the  center  of  a  really 
not-too-beautiful  town. 

The  cook  and  butler,  governess,  laun- 
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non-frizzy  ends. 

Only  home  permanent  kif 
to  include  reconditioning 
creme  rinse. 

Two  lengths  of  rods.  Standard 
size  for  ringlet  ends;  extra- 
long  for  deep  crown  waves. 


keep  the  Linkletter  home  running  with 
well-oiled  efficiency  will  be  supple- 
mented, come  October,  with  a  nurse- 
maid. 

When  they  bought  it,  over  three  years 
ago,  their  house  was  just  another  Medi- 
terranean-type villa.  But  Lois,  an  en- 
thusiastic amateur  decorator,  has  trans- 
formed it.  Bit  by  bit,  she  got  rid  of 
the  garish  tile  and  the  miles  of  wrought 
iron  work  that  gave  it  "character" — 
of  a  sort.  The  forty  by  twenty-foot 
living  room  is  a  bright  place  now,  with 
the  ceiling  pickled  and  bleached,  a 
simple  mantelpiece,  and  brilliantly- 
colored  Chinese  furniture.  The  coral 
and  blue-gray  color  scheme  has  a  pro- 
fessional polish,  but  no  Linkletter 
would  be  happy  in  a  formal  room. 
The  casual  accumulation  of  books, 
papers,  music,  logs  piled  in  the  fireplace 
— these  give  it  its  real  character. 

The  dining  room  is  pale  and  subtle, 
to  make  the  best  possible  frame  for 
Lois's  collection  of  traditional  silver, 
crystal  and  china.  And  all  the  bed- 
rooms have  as  carefully  thought-out 
color  schemes.  Jack's  is  mannish, 
Dawn's  gay,  Robert's  a  circus.  Lois 
and  Art  share  a  huge  room  in  which 
Swedish  modern  shows  beautifully 
against  a  blue-green,  chartreuse  and 
apricot  background. 

A  new  room,  a  twelfth,  is  now  under 
construction  for  the  fifth  baby's  nur- 
sery. 

Art  pays  rather  appalling  bills  for  all 
of  this  with  the  greatest  good  humor. 
His  family  and  his  home,  he  feels,  are 
very    rewarding   investments. 

Fortunately — in  view  of  the  kind  of 
life  he  enjoys — Art  is  making  money, 
important  money,  these  days.  The 
scrimping  and  planning  of  his  college 
days  in  San  Diego  are  happily  behind 
him.  His  great  success  on  the  air,  and 
in  his  one  movie,  People  Are  Funny, 
have  built  up  a  demand  for  his  services 
at  fairs  and  expositions  at  astronomical 
fees — and  he  manages  to  fill  a  great 
many  such  engagements  along  with  his 
regular  radio  schedule. 

Such  a  pace  frightens  his  friends  in 
radio  who  have  seen  Tom  Breneman 
and  other  gifted  men  break  under  the 
load.  But  Art  is  not  worried.  His  public 
life  is  strenuous,  but — and  this  is 
crucial,  he  says — his  private  life  is 
quite  different.  His  quiet,  lazy  life  with 
his  family — which  accents  sleep,  exer- 
cise, simple  fun — stores  up  all  the 
energy  he  needs  for  facing  the  public. 

He  has  another  asset,  he  thinks.  He 
doesn't  worry. 

"I  suppose,  compared  with  the 
power-house  guys,  I  seem  phlegmatic," 
he  says.  "But  I  have  developed  a  fatal- 
istic philosophy  in  fifteen  years  of  radio 
ad-libbing.  Anything  can  happen,  and 
often  does.  But  I  don't  worry  about  it 
until  it  happens.  When  it  happens  I  do 
the  best  I  can." 

The  philosophy  pays  off,  of  course, 
for  Art  is  famous  in  radio  for  turning 
a  bad  break,  or  a  boner,  into  the  big- 
gest laugh  on  the  show. 

He  has  done  People  are  Funny  on 
TV  once,  with  exciting  results.  He 
wants  to  do  more — for  he  finds  this 
medium  the  best  for  what  he  likes  best 
to  do,  talk  directly  to  the  people. 

With  television  a  part  of  his  think- 
ing, Art,  of  course,  is  making  it  a  part 
of  his  life.  His  home  is  probably  the 
first  in  Hollywood  to  have  a  "television 
room.'  Like  everything  else  in  the 
house,  the  room  is  designed  for  the 
whole  family's  enjoyment. 

That's  what  makes  the  Linkletter 
house  something  really  worth  writing 
about.    It's  a  home. 


I  It  Might  as  Well 
Be  Pretty 
(Continued  from  page  61) 
Vegetable  Combinations:  Buttered 
peas,  carrot  strips  and  cauliflower 
flowerets.  Broiled  mushroom  caps, 
string  beans,  diced  beets.  Buttered 
string  beans,  stuffed  onions,  grilled 
tomatoes.  Buttered  cauliflower,  diced 
carrots,  spinach.  Stuffed  green  pep- 
pers, diced  turnips,  kidney  beans.  But- 
tered asparagus,  diced  beets,  lima 
beans.  Stuffed  tomatoes,  buttered 
young  carrots,  French  fried  onion  rings. 
Fried  eggplant,  grilled  tomatoes,  but- 
tered Brussels  sprouts.  Stuffed  mush- 
room caps,  beet  greens,  kernel  corn. 

Planked  Steaks 

A  steak  you  are  going  to  serve  on  a 
plank  should  be  broiled  first.  Select  a 
tender  steak  1V2"  to  2"  thick.  Trim 
off  excessive  fat.  Place  on  greased 
rack  in  preheated  broiling  pan.  Place 
broiling  pan  with  meat  on  rack  2"  to  3" 
below  the  heat.  Sear  on  top  and  sides 
and  turn.  "When  seared  on  both  sides 
reduce  heat  to  moderate  (350°  F.). 
Continue  broiling  until  5  minutes  be- 
fore done. 

Cooking  Guide  for  Steak 

1-inch:  rare,  8-15  minutes;  medium, 
12-20  minutes;  well  done,  15-30  min- 
utes. 

2-inch:  rare,  15-25  minutes;  medium, 
20-30  minutes;  well  done,  25-40  min- 
utes. 

Broil  until  nearly  done,  then  put  it 
on  a  preheated  plank  and  arrange 
vegetables  around  it.  Place  under  a 
hot  broiler  to  brown  potatoes  and  finish 
cooking.  Allow  y%  to  %  pound  per 
portion. 

Planked    Chicken 


3  medium  sized 

IV2  cups  cooked 

broiling  chickens 

mashed  potatoes 

salt 

V-k  cups  whole  green 

pepper 

beans,  cooked 

oil 

IY2  cups  whole  ker- 

pimento 

nel  corn 

Split  and  clean  broilers.  Wash  and 
dry  thoroughly.  Sprinkle  with  salt  and 
pepper  and  cover  with  oil.  Preheat 
broiling  compartment  to  medium.  Place 
skin  side  down  on  broiling  pan  and 
broil  about  4  inches  from  source  of  heat 
for  about  20  minutes.  Remove  from 
broiler  and  place  skin  side  up  in  center 
of  oiled  heated  plank.  Arrange  pota- 
toes around  edge  of  plank  with  pastry 
tube  or  with  spoon.  Fill  space  between 
potatoes  with  beans  and  corn.  Brush 
with  oil  and  broil  4  inches  from  source 
of  heat  about  10  minutes,  or  until 
chicken  is  tender  and  potatoes  browned. 
Makes  6  servings. 

Planked   Fish 

Select  any  firm-fleshed  fish  for  plank- 
ing. You  may  use  whole  fish,  split 
down  back,  fillets  or  steaks  which  are 
V2  to  1  inch  thick.  Dry  fish  thoroughly, 
season  both  sides  with  salt  and  pepper 
and  brush  with  oil  or  melted  butter. 
Place  skin  side  down  on  oiled  hot  plank 
or  ovenware  platter  and  bake  in  hot 
oven  (400°  F.)  for  15  to  30  minutes, 
basting  frequently.  Remove  from  oven, 
border  with  mashed  potatoes,  brush 
with  melted  butter,  milk  or  diluted  egg 
yolk  and  brown  in  oven  or  under 
broiler.  Garnish  with  parsley  and 
serve  at  once.  Other  vegetables  such 
as  string  beans,  lima  beans,  tomato 
slices  or  small  stuffed  tomatoes  may  be 
used  with  potatoes.  Allow  V3  to  V2 
pound  fish  per  portion. 


HOLD  HIS  EYES. ..WITH 


f  \i,     says,  "Try  Woodbury  DEEP-CLEANSE  Facials! 


Tempting!  Dobbin  eyes  the  apple  — our 
eyes  go  to  Arlene,  she's  so-o  radiant!  "For 
fresh  morning  glow,"  says  she,  "try  my 
Cold  Cream— deep-cleansing  Woodbury!" 


"For  skin  that's  beauty-clean," 
says  Arlene  Dahl,  "swirl  on  Woodbury 
Cold  Cream.  Its  rich  oils 
cleanse  deep . . .  cleanse  clean.  Tissue 
. . .  and  film  on  more  Woodbury 
to  smooth  your  skin.  Four  special 
softening  ingredients!  Now  tissue 
again  and  splash  with  cold  water. 
The  result?  —  Woodbury-wonderful! 
Skin's  clear-clean,  silky-soft." 


Woodbury 

dcanses-smootm 

Cold  Cream 


u/b&y 


Ver-ree  tempting!  Sun  down,  moon  up, 
it's  time  for  glamour-glow!  "Easy,"  Arlene 
tells  you,  "rich  Woodbury  smooths  dryness 
. . .  brings  back  that  Always-Fresh  look." 


79 


i 


MSELINE 

TRADE  MARK  ® 

CUTICLE 
MD  MIL  CREAM! 


Cuticle  hangnails 
aren't  pretty  to 
look  at — aren't 
nice  to  have, 
either!  They  snag 
your  nylons  .  .  . 
spoil  your  manicure 
.  . .  and,  darn  it, 
they  hurt.  What  to  do? 
Just  make  a  beauty 
habit  of  new  'Vaseline' 
Cuticle  and  Nail  Cream. 
This  soothing,  smoothing, 
fragrant  cream  lubricates 
rough  cuticle  gently  .  . . 

aids  in  keeping  it  soft, 
pliant  .  .  .  and  really  does 

something  about  those  ugly 
cuticle  hangnails! 


t 

M 

80 


NOSTALGIC  MEMORIES 

Radio   Mirror's   Best  Letter   of   the   Month 

Dear  Papa  David: 

I  was  born  in  a  small  village  in  Den- 
mark. My  father  was  a  carpenter.  I 
can  remember  walking  to  school 
through  the  snow  wearing  wooden 
shoes  which  kept  our  feet  good  and 
warm. 

How  well  I  remember  my  grand- 
mother's house.  It  was  brick,  but  the 
roof  was  covered  with  thick  sod  which 
would  sprout  in  the  spring,  and  soon 
the  whole  roof  would  be  green.  On 
one  end  of  the  roof  the  storks  would 
build  their  nests  and  in  a  few  weeks 
their  little  white  offspring  could  be 
seen  perched  on  the  roof  tops.  How 
well  I  remember  their  long,  red  legs 
and  what  a  thrill  we  children  got  from 
watching  them. 

I  was  ten  years  old  when  father  de- 
cided to  go  to  America  where  his  mar- 
ried sister  was  living,  but  the  sad  part 
was  that  he  couldn't  take  us  with  him. 
When  he  kissed  us  all  good-bye  we  felt 
as  though  we  would  never  see  him 
again.  Weeks  went  by,  and  Spring 
came.  The  grass  on  grandmother's 
roof  grew  green  and  we  knew  the 
storks  would  soon  build  their  nests 
again. 

After  eight  months,  we  received  a 
letter  from  Father  with  transportation 
tickets  for  the  whole  family.  It  took 
us  thirteen  days  and  nights  to  cross  the 
ocean,  and  I  was  so  seasick  the  sight  of 
the  waves  was  enough  to  make  me  ill. 

How  happy  we  were  when  we  sighted 
land!  We  sailed  a  few  hours  more  and 
then  sighted  the  Statue  of  Liberty. 
Never  having  heard  about  it  before,  we 
wondered  what  it  was. 

Traveling  by  train,  we  reached  our 
destination  two  days  later,  fully  ex- 
pecting Father  to  meet  us.  We  waited 
and  waited  but  he  never  came.  Stran- 
gers tried  to  discover  where  we  were 
going,  but  •  we  couldn't  understand  a 
word  they  said. 

When  it  grew  dark  a  man  from  the 
railroad,  who  spoke  Swedish,  was  sent 
over  to  help  us.  Mother  had  no  trouble 
understanding  him  and  he  insisted  we 
spend  the  night  at  his  home.  Mother 
sent  a  letter  to  Father,  but  it  was  two 
days  before  he  arrived.     It  seems  we 


had  made  the  trip  three  days  sooner 
than  expected. 

Leaving  bright  and  early,  we  said 
good-bye  to  those  kind  people  and 
started  for  our  new  home.  It  was  a 
small  town  and  we  caused  a  lot  of  ex- 
citement. The  children  would  come  to 
our  yard  to  play  with  us.  With  their 
help,  we  learned  many  new  words. 

In  September  we  began  school  and 
the  children  Would  crowd  around  us  to 
hear  us  talk.  How  they  would  laugh, 
but  we  learned  fast,  thanks  to  a  kind 
teacher  who  took  extra  time  with  us. 
The  years  went  by  fast  and  we  all 
learned  to  love  America. 

I  am  seventy-three  years  old  now  and 
my  parents  are  both  dead,  but  I  still 
like  to  think  about  those  days  and  it 
thrills  me  to  hear  my  great-grandchil- 
dren laugh  about  how  father  came  to 
call  for  us  with  four  mules  hitched  to 
a  big  spring  wagon.  So  after  all,  I 
find  that  Life  Can  Be  Beautiful. 

Mrs.  R.  K. 

The   ten-dollar   letters   follow: 

MONEY  ISN'T  EVERYTHING 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Recently,  in  the  company  of  friends, 
my  husband  was  discussing  the  sad 
state  of  our  finances.  I  laughed  and 
said,  "It's  only  money."  Everyone 
laughed  heartily.  They  assumed  I  was 
joking.  Only  my  husband's  smile  told 
me  that  he,  alone,  understood. 

We  have  been  married  ten  years. 
No  strangers  to  cheap  housing,  bill  col- 
lectors and  even  pawnshops,  we  have 
endured  all  the  humiliations  of  poverty. 

During  the  war,  we  were  fortunate. 
We  worked  hard,  our  income  rose,  and 
we  bought  a  home,  a  car,  and  were  able 
to  give  our  children  the  things  we 
wanted  them  to  have. 

After  the  war,  we  started  a  business 
of  our  own.  Costs  were  higher  than 
expected  and  we  spent  all  our  savings, 
sold  our  car,  our  house,  and  borrowed 
heavily.  We  worked  hard,  but  we 
seemed  doomed  to  failure.  We  lost 
money;  our  home  was  broken  up;  our 
creditors  hounded  us.  We  were  ex- 
hausted. We  even  began  to  quarrel 
with  each  other. 

When  we  were  forced  to  close  our 
business,  we  were  heavily  in  debt  and 


Life  Can  Ite  Beuutiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixliy  and   Don  Becker.  >►   hearil   Mon.-Fri.  on  INBC  at  12 


the  future  seemed  hopeless.  We  dis- 
cussed a  divorce.  In  our  despair,  a  cold 
pride  kept  us  from  saying  the  one  word 
that  might  have  led  to  a  reconciliation. 

Charles  was  working  nights  and  to 
get  more  money,  he  hauled  coal  during 
the  day  even  though  he  suffered  from 
asthma. 

On  New  Year's  Day,  he  had  a  heart 
attack.  For  hours  I  watched  him  fight 
for  a  life  which  we  considered  unen- 
durable. Faced  with  the  probable  loss 
of  my  dear  one,  I  prayed  that  I  had  left 
him  enough  in  life  to  fight  for.  I  re- 
alized what  folly  we  had  been  about  to 
commit. 

My  husband  began  to  recover.  We 
had  many  long  talks  and  he  admitted 
that,  compared  to  his  fear  of  our  mar- 
riage's breaking  up,  the  other  worries 
were  trifling.  Once  on  his  feet,  he  was 
warned  that  never  again  would  he  be 
able  to  work  as  hard. 

People  were  sympathetic  (even  our 
creditors) .  We  learned  how  good  and 
true  most  of  our  friends  were.  A  new 
tenderness  entered  our  love  for  each 
other.  We  both  know  that  probably  we 
always  will  be  poor — financially,  that  is. 
In  the  things  that  really  matter,  how- 
ever, we  are  God's  favored.  When  we 
stopped  worrying  about  money,  it  was 
as  if  we  had   been  set  free. 

Mrs.  C.  W.  A. 

SOLICITOUS  EAVESDROPPERS 

Dear  Papa  David: 

We  live  in  the  country,  and  our  tele- 
phone is  one  of  those  eight-party  lines 
on  which  everyone  eavesdrops. 

The  night  I  realized  my  third  baby 
was  about  to  be  born,  my  husband  was 
at  work  in  the  city,  several  miles  away. 
Frightened,  I  went  to  the  telephone. 
What  if  the  line  should  be  busy?  How- 
ever, I  was  fortunate  enough  to  get 
the  connection,  but  I  was  sobbing  hys- 
terically, asking  Frank  how  I  would 
get  to  the  hospital,  begging  him  to  hurry 
home,  and  wondering  who  would  take 
care  of  our  two  little  boys. 

Suddenly,  while  Frank  was  still  talk- 
ing, trying  to  calm  me,  I  heard  a  car 
drive  into  our  yard,  then  another,  and 
another.  Those  party-liners  had  heard 
my  call  and  had  all  come  to  help! 

In  no  time,  they  arranged  everything. 
One  drove  me  to  the  hosoital  while  the 
others  cared  for  the  children,  reassured 
Frank  (on  the  phone)  and  did  a  hun- 
dred thoughtful  things.  Oh  yes,  life  can 
be  beautiful,  even  on  a  partv  line! 

Mrs.  F.  C. 


RADIO    MIRROR    OFFERS    $50 
EACH   MONTH   FOR   YOUR   LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a 
key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-forgotten 
.  friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant 
incident,  which  suddenly  illuminated  the 
whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring 
such  a  memory,  won't  you  write  to  Papa 
David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers 
best  each  month,  Radio  Mirror  will  pay  fifty 
dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have 
room  enough  to  print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters 
can  be  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be 
Beautiful  letter  to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror 
Magazine,  205  East  42  Street.  N.Y.  17,  N.Y. 


Noon,  PST;  1  P.M.  MSI  :2  I'M.  <:ST:3  P.M.  EST. 


fS 


59? -434 
tSi  and  104 


>•  Test  FRESH  yourself  at  our  expense.  See  if  FRESH  isn't  more  effec- 
tive, creamier,  smoother  than  any  deodorant  you've  ever  tried.  Only  FRESH 
can  use  the  patented  combination  of  amazing  ingredients  which  gives  you 
this  safe,  smooth  cream  that  doesn't  dry  out . .  .  that  really  stops  perspira- 
tion better.  Write  to  FRESH,  Chrysler  Building,  New  York,  for  a  free  jar. 


I 

M 

81 


BLUE  DAYS 


CAN  BE 


BRIGHT  DAYS 


i 
i 
i 
i 
i 

3 
I 

3 
1 
I 

1         RELIEVES  FUNCTIONAL 

I  PERIODIC  PAIN 

CRAMPS-HEADACHE -"BLUES" 

1 

Terence 


R 

M 

82 


IFORMATION 


Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — we'll  try  to  find  the  answers 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— If  there's  something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,   write  to  Information  Booth,  Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  N.  Y. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Information  Booth  or  by  mail — but  be 
sure  to  sign  full  name  and  address,  and  attach  this  box  to  your  letter. 


with 
My 

B. 


TED  MALONE'S  ORGANIST 

Dear    Editor: 

How  about  some 
information  on  Rosa 
Rio  the  organist  on 
Ted  Malone's  pro- 
gram? I  think  she 
is  just  about  the 
best  in  the  business. 
Where  did  she  come 
from?  Is  she  mar- 
ried? What  other 
programs  does  she 
play  for?      My  girl  Rosa  Rio 

friend     and     I     are 
both  musicians  and  I  have  a  wager 
her  that  she  is  also   the   organist   on 
True  Story.    Am  I  right  or  wrong? 

Mr.  B. 
Louisville,  Ky. 

You're  right.  She's  also  the  organist  on 
ABC's  Ethel  and  Albert  (Monday  to  Friday 
at  6:45  P.M.  EST.),  and  Second  Honey- 
moon (Monday  to  Friday  at  3:30  P.M.  EST, 
ABC).  Rosa,  who  is  on  ABC's  musical  staff, 
is  so  much  in  demand  that  she  often  has 
only  twenty-five  seconds  to  dash  from  one 
studio  to  another.  A  native  of  New  Orleans, 
she  is  married,  has  one  son,  and,  naturally, 
has  an  organ  in  her  home. 

STATISTICS  WANTED 

Dear  Editor: 

Recently  a  friend- 
ly discussion  led  to 
a  friendly  wager 
concerning  the 
height  and  weight 
of  certain  radio 
celebrities.  Would 
you  please  clarify  the 
matter  for  us  by  giv- 
ing these  vital  statis- 
tics of  Dick  Haymes, 
Vaughn  Monroe, 
and  Bob  Hope? 
Mr.  F.  V.  H. 
Chicago  14,  111. 

We'll  be  glad  to.  Vaughn  Monroe,  the 
tallest  of  the  three,  is  6'2"  and  185  pounds. 
Next  comes  Dick  Haymes  at  6'  and  160 
pounds.  And  Bob  Hope,  the  shortest,  is 
5'10",  and  170  pounds. 

CAPTIVATING   VOICE 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  me  who  plays 
Peggy  Martinson  on 
the  Nora  Drake  pro- 
gram? I'd  like  to 
see  a  picture  of  her 
as  she  owns  such  a 
wonderfully  dra- 
matic voice.  It's  a 
voice  you  want  to 
stop  and  listen  to. 

Mrs.   P.   B.  Mercedes 

Armona,  California  McCambrirtge 


Robert   St.  John 


Here's  the  face  that  matches  the  voice 
you  want  to  stop  and  listen  to — Mercedes 
McCambridge.  She  is  often  heard  on  other 
programs  such  as  Inner  Sanctum,  Studio 
One,  and  Mystery  Theatre. 

NEWS  CORRESPONDENT  RETURNS 

Dear  Editor: 

Would  you  tell 
me  what  has  be- 
come of  Robert  St. 
John?  During  the 
war  I  heard  him  on 
the  radio  often  and 
he  was  one  of  my 
favorite  newscasters. 
I  haven't  heard  him 
or  anything  about 
him  for  a  long  time. 

Mrs.  B.  C. 
Martinsville,  Va. 

You'll  be  happy  to  hear  that  Robert  St. 
John  recently  returned  to  this  country  from 
Europe  where  he  spent  much  time  gather- 
ing material  for  his  new  book  on  Palestine 
which  will  be  published  this  Fall. 

THE  PARK  AVENUE  HILLBILLIE 

Dear   Editor: 

I  would  like  to 
know  where  Dor- 
othy Shay,  The 
Park  Avenue  Hill- 
billie,  comes  from. 
Our  family  enjoys 
listening  to  her  and 
we  are  in  dispute  as 
to  her  native  state. 
Would  you  enlight- 
en us? 
Mrs.  P.  A.  S.,  San 
Antonio,  10,  Texas 

Dorothy  Shay  is  from  the  South — Jack- 
sonville, Florida,  to  be  specific,  where  she 
was  born  some  twenty-odd  years  ago. 

ALIAS  GERARD 

Dear    Editor: 

I  noticed  in  your 
August  issue  of 
Radio  Mirror  the 
picture  of  Jerry 
Colonna.  Is  that  his 
real  name?  Has  he 
made  any  record- 
ings lately? 

Mr.  F.  C. 
Erie,   Pa. 

Jerry's  legal  name  Jerry  Colonna 

is  Gerard  Colonna; 

however,  he  changed  it  when  he  decided 
it  was  too  formal  for  a  comedian.  His 
latest  Capitol  recordings,  released  a  few 
months  ago,  are  "Pass  A  Piece  of  Pizza, 
Please,"  and  "Where  Do  You  Work-a,  John?" 


Dorothy   Shay 


OOTH 


TRIBUTE 

Dear  Editor: 

Until  your  September  issue  I  was  disap- 
pointed in  your  magazine  for  not  mention- 
ing the  death  of  Tom  Breneman.  He  meant 
so  much  to  so  many  of  us.  During  the  war 
years  his  program  always  gave  us  a  lift. 
And  yet,  along  with  the  belly  laugh,  the 
smile,  or  the  chuckle,  would  come  the  tears 
the  next  moment.  That's  the  test  of  true 
comedy.  He  was  more  than  a  comedian  be- 
cause shining  through  his  antics  was  the 
warmth,  the  true  heart,  of  Tom.  That  was 
what  made  him  different  from  the  other 
comedians. 

Mrs.  G.  H.  E. 
Indianapolis,  Ind. 

Those  are  our  sentiments,  too. 

SUPER   WRITING  TEAM 

Dear  Editor: 

Could  you  give 
me  some  informa- 
tion about  Frank 
and  Anne  Hummert, 
as  well  as  some  of 
the  radio  programs 
they  produce? 

Miss  N.  A.  T. 
Milford,  Mass. 

Anne  (nee  Ashen- 
hurst)      and     Frank  Anne  Hummert 
Hummert  originally 

started  as  a  secretary-boss  combination, 
but,  as  Frank  will  confide  jokingly  to 
friends,  he  married  Anne  because  he  had 
difficulty  pronouncing  her  name.  Together 
they  have  become  radio's  most  outstanding 
writing  and  producing  team.  They  write, 
produce  and  direct  some  sixteen  radio 
scripts  weekly  for  an  audience  estimated  at 
100,000,000  a  week.  To  give  you  an  idea 
of  the  variety  of  programs  they  have  a  hand 
in,  here  are  a  few:  David  Harum,  Back- 
stage Wife,  Manhattan  Merry -Go -Round, 
Lora  Lawton,  and  Waltz  Time. 


RADIO'S     PERFECT    MOTHER 

Dear    Editor: 

Will  you  please 
inform  me  whether 
Marion  Barney  ever 
played  stock  in 
Philadelphia  quite  a 
few   years   ago? 

Mrs.  M.  C.  E. 
Trenton,    N.    J. 

Not  only  has  she 
played  stock  in  Phil- 
adelphia,   but    there  Marion  Barney 
isn't   a   city  with   a 

population  of  100.000  or  more  that  she 
hasn't  played.  Before  Marion  entered  the 
field  of  radio,  she  had  spent  twenty  dis 
tinguished  years  on  the  stage,  five  of 
which  were  spent  as  leading  actress  of 
the  Orpheum  Stock  Company  in  Phila- 
delphia. Now,  known  as  radio's  perfect 
mother,  Marion  is  firmly  settled  in  her 
role  as  Mother  Young  in  Pepper  Young's 
Family. 


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Curtain  at  Nine 

{Continued  from  page  33) 


chance.  It  was  seized  upon  desperately. 
A  motorcycle  messenger  was  armed 
with  a  release  form,  and  dispatched 
from  Hollywood  to  Santa  Barbara  with 
instructions  to  locate  Miss  Benson  and 
get  her  signature  by  broadcast  deadline. 
Little  hope  was  entertained  that  he 
would  succeed. 

Followed  a  glum  vigil  at  the  tele- 
phone. Came  five  o'clock,  Hollywood 
time,  and  no  word.  Five-thirty,  and  no 
word.  Five-forty.  The  phone  jangled. 
Wrong  number.     Twenty  minutes  left. 

Then  it  rang  again.  This  time  it  was 
the  excited  voice  of  the  messenger.  He 
had  contacted  Miss  Benson.  She  had 
signed  the  release,  and  he  was  speeding 
back  with  it.  Everyone  sighed.  It  was 
all  right  to  go  on  with  the  show. 

I  HAVE  become  accustomed  to  drama 
behind  the  Lux  Radio  Theatre's  vel- 
vet curtain  such  as  I  have  not  witnessed 
in  any  other  phase  of  what  will  pass,  I 
venture,  for  a  rather  eventful  career — 
a  career  including  a  40-week,  46-state 
siege  of  one  night  stands,  acting  and 
directing  on  the  Broadway  and  London 
stage,  and  14  years  as  a  Hollywood  mo- 
tion picture  director. 

A  control  booth  Einstein  has  figured 
out  that  into  the  overall  production  of 
the  Lux  Theatre  to  date  have  gone  some 
seven  million  words,  which  if  printed 
on  single  teletype  tape  would  stretch 
2,500  miles;  35,000  pages  of  script  which, 
laid  end  to  end,  would  extend  60  miles 
and  drive  out  of  their  minds  every  street 
cleaner  en  route;  roughly  13,000  music 
bridges,  and  approximately  60,000  sound 
effects  conjured  up  by  Lux's  fabulous 
noisemaker,  Charles  Forsyth,  at  the  rate 
of  105  a  show.  More  than  400  of  Holly- 
wood's all-time  most  glamorous  movie 
stars  had  performed  in  upwards  of  600 
Lux  adaptations  of  motion  picture  hits 
by  the  end  of  1947. 

You  cannot  wade  through  that  wil- 
derness of  statistics  without  some  of  the 
most  carefully  laid  plans  going  awry. 
Week  in  and  week  out,  comedy,  pathos 
and  suspense  are  the  real  life  ingredi- 
ents backstage  in  the  Lux  Radio  Thea- 
tre. To  thirty-two  million  faithful 
listeners,  Operation  Lux  is  a  flawless 
radio  presentation  which  has  come 
across  the  airlanes  for  more  than  14 
years  without  miscue  or  mishap.  As 
far  as  Lux  fans  know,  all  the  tumult  and 
humor  of  this  continually  high-Hoop- 
ered  one  hour  show  is  contained  in  the 
adaptations  of  popular  motion  pictures, 
and  in  the  performances  of  the  stars 
who  come  to  the  Lux  microphone. 

Rarely  is  there  hint  of  the  problems 
involved  in  getting  the  show  on  and  off 
the  air  with  clocklike  regularity.  Lit- 
tle is  the  armchair  patron  aware  of  fe- 
verish races  against  deadlines,  of  the 
talent  and  perspiration,  of  the  heart- 
break and  headache  poured  into  a  Ra- 
dio Theatre  presentation. 

'Even  dress  rehearsal  at  the  Playhouse 
is  subject  to  disruptions,  particularly 
during  invasions  by  itinerant  inebri- 
ates. When  these  vagabonds  are  spot- 
ted, they  are  gently  eased  out. 

One  slightly  tipsy,  well-dressed  gent 
crashed  the  dress  rehearsal  not  long  ago, 
ensconced  himself  in  the  front  row,  and 
proceeded  to  interrupt  the  performance 
with  admittedly  intelligent  criticism. 
However,  his  comment  was  uncompli- 
mentary, and  he  was  asked  to  leave, 
which  he  did  gracefully  and  with  dis- 
patch. 


I  shall  not  soon  forget  the  night  that 
adulation  for  one  of  my  stars  took  on 
the  proportions  of  a  near  riot.  Before 
the  curtain  fell  on  our  adaptation  of 
"You  Came  Along,"  an  army  of  girls 
stormed  the  footlights  with  a  rain  of 
oohs-and-ahs,  accompanied  by  franti- 
cally extended  autograph  albums.  Only 
the  timely  arrival  of  a  contingent  of 
Los  Angeles  policemen  prevented  them 
from  swarming  onto  the  stage  and  kid- 
naping Van  Johnson  while  the  show  still 
was  on  the  air. 

Although  this  demonstration  was 
quelled  without  discernible  catastrophe, 
I  will  admit  that  at  least  one  distaff 
fan  achieved  a  moral  victory.  A  life- 
size  photo  of  Johnson  appeared  in  a 
glass  showcase  in  the  lobby  of  the  Vine 
Street  Playhouse,  and  when  I  went 
home  I  noticed  that  one  of  Van's  ad- 
mirers had  left  her  lipstick  prints  on 
the  glass  across  the  photographic  im- 
age of  his  own  lips. 

Often  comic  relief  is  provided  by 
fans  far  from  the  CBS  auditorium.  In 
its  day  the  Radio  Theatre  has  been 
held  responsible  for  a  burning  house, 
called  to  task  for  doubting  the  biting 
potentials  of  dead  bees,  and  praised  for 
dramatizing  the  story  of  a  horse  that 
wouldn't  be  caught  dead  without  the 
sponsor's  product. 

It  was  a  curious,  yet  amusing  twist 
of  logic  that  laid  the  conflagration  at 
our  doorstep.  A  listener  wrote  indig- 
nantly that  his  home  wquld  not  have 
gone  up  in  flames  if  he  had  not  dialed 
the  program.  He  had  become  so  en- 
grossed, he  complained,  that  he  did  not 
notice  his  house  was  afire  until  it  was 
too  late  to  do  anything  but  flee  the  in- 
ferno with  his  own  skin  intact. 

WALTER  BRENNAN'S  Lux  perform- 
*'  ance  in  "To  Have  and  Have  Not"  as 
the  dipsomaniac  who  badgered  everyone 
he  encountered  with  the  question,  "Was 
you  ever  bit  by  a  dead  bee?"  brought 
next  day  a  special  delivery  protest  from 
an  outraged  woman. 

"I  stepped  on  a  dead  bee  last  night," 
she  bristled,  "and  I  was  bitten  by  it. 
So  you  see  dead  bees  do  bite." 

Having  learned  not  to  underestimate 
dead  bees,  I  nevertheless  continued  to 
open  my  fan  mail  with  sublime  faith. 
The  letter  from  one  Fred  J.  Loelndorfer 
following  the  adaptation  of  "Thunder- 
head,  Son  of  Flicka,"  no  doubt  warmed 
the  sudsy  cockles  of  the  sponsor's  heart. 
Loelndorfer  owned  the  yearling  colt 
which  had  played  the  title  role  in  the 
movie.  He  was  glad  that  it  was  Lux 
Theatre  which  had  brought  the  film  to 
the  air. 

"I  am  pleased  that  the  movie  was  pre- 
sented on  your  radio  program,"  Mr. 
Loelndorfer  wrote  to  me,  "because  I  use 
Lux  on  all  my  horses.  It  is  the  only 
thing  I  know  that  will  keep  their  manes 
and  tails  clean." 

Another  unsolicited  testimonial  came 
from  the  grandson  of  my  good  friend, 
Dr.  Harry  Kaufman,  of  Washington, 
D.C.  This  lad,  imbued  with  a  sense  of 
listener  obligation  to  the  people  who 
make  the  program  available,  praised 
the  Radio  Theatre  in  glowing  terms  and 
took  pains  to  assure  me  that  "my  sister 
uses  Lux  and  has  a  wonderful  com- 
plexion." I  learned  later  from  Dr.  Kauf- 
man that  the  boy's  sister  was  four  years 
old. 

One  tribute  to  my  sponsor's  ubiqui- 
tous product  came  to  me  from  a  listener 


who  had  received  from  a  friend  in 
France  a  linen  tablecloth  embroidered 

fin  Belgian  lace.  Enclosed  with  this  fine 
gift  was  a  note,  written  in  French,  rec- 
ommending that  the  cloth  be  washed  in 
Lux. 

My  own  slight  contribution  is  the 
fact  that  when  I  joined  the  show  on  a 
permanent  basis  I  purchased  an  extra 
pair  of  eyeglasses,  with  lenses  ground 
for  the  special  requirements  of  broad- 
casting. Based  on  the  distance  between 
my  eyes  and  the  script,  a  large  area 
of  these  bifocals  was  for  reading,  while 
the  smaller  upper  portion  was  for  re- 
ceiving timing  signals  at  a  greater 
distance. 

This  might  seem  like  an  extraord- 
inary precaution,  but  as  surely  as  day 
follows  night,  the  evening  came  when 
I  was  on  stage  two  minutes  before  cur- 
tain, and  I  discovered  that  I  had  left 
my  regular  glasses  in  the  dressing  room. 
You  can  imagine  how  relieved  I  was 
to  be  able  to  reach  into  another  pocket 
and  come  up  with  my  extra  pair. 

NOT  instinct,  but  an  embarrassing  ex- 
perience in  my  early  days  as  an  actor 
prompted  me  to  carry  two  pairs  of  eye- 
glasses on  every  broadcast.  Years  ago, 
on  the  road,  I  played  an  Englishman 
in  "Officer  666."  In  a  climactic  scene, 
I  was  supposed  to  fetch  a  pair  of  hand- 
cuffs out  of  my  pocket  and  fasten  them 
to  my  wrists.  I  fumbled  in  vain  for 
my  props.  I  tried,  under  the  circum- 
stances, to  cover  up  by  turning  my  back 
to  the  audience  and  letting  them  assume 
that  I  was  in  handcuffs.  I  have  never 
forgotten  that  I  could  have  avoided  this 
debacle  had  I  had  two  pairs  of  hand- 
cuffs. 

Would  that  fear  of  missing  glasses 
were  an  isolated  deadline  scare!  Con- 
sider the  night  Bette  Davis  was  billed 
for  the  Radio  Theatre  in  "The  Letter." 
Five  minutes  before  showtime,  Bette 
ran  out  of  her  dressing  room,  her  face 
contorted  in  pain,  her  hands  clutching 
her  throat. 

"I've  taken  poison!"  she  cried. 

No,  Miss  Davis  was  not  attempting 
suicide,  and  she  was  not  jesting.  To 
relieve  a  severe  headache  she  had 
poured  the  contents  of  a  little  bottle 
into  a  glass  of  water  and  had  tossed  it 
off.  Instead  of  headache  powder,  it  was 
insect  poison.  However,  her  alert  chauf- 
fer saved  the  day.  He  rushed  back  an 
antidote  in  time  for  Bette  to  answer  her 
opening  cue. 

To  me,  in  particular,  the  thought  of 
Bette  Davis  taking  poison  by  accident 
or  design  was  unbearable.  With  good 
reason,  I  have  a  deep  personal  interest 
in  her  career.  I  take  pride  in  being 
Bette's  discoverer.  I  sensed  her  latent 
dramatic  qualities  the  moment  I  saw 
her  inundated  by  an  enormous  costume 
in  the  leading  role  of  the  graduation 
play  at  the  John  Murray  Anderson 
Dramatic  School  in  New  York  City. 

I  was  directing  A.  A.  Milne's  "The 
Ivory  Door"  on  the  Broadway  stage,  and 
I  summoned  this  promising  girl  for  a 
reading.  I  liked  her  work,  but  the  pro- 
ducer, Charles  Hopkins,  had  reserva- 
tions, so  Miss  Davis'  professional  debut 
was  delayed.    But  not  for  long. 

Three  months  later,  Hopkins  saw 
Bette  in  a  little  theater  in  Greenwich 
Village  and  raved  over  her  as  a  sensa- 
tional new  find.  He  didn't  realize  she 
was  the  same  girl  he  had  rejected  a 
short  time  ago.  Bette  soon  won  a  part 
in  "Skidding" — the  play  on  which 
MGM  based  its  Andy  Hardy  series — 
which  ran  for  one  year  on  Bro?>rh"Ty, 
and  proved  her  springboard  to  Holly- 
wood and  all  that  went  with  it. 


^  and  now 


come  these 


^/|ii,v/M^ 

Just  any  silverplate  won't  do ! 
Your  modern  bride-to-be  knows  all 
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there  is  a  finer,  different  kind 
with  these      >>"/,/. i"/. 

It's  Holmes  &  Edwards  silverplate 
and  it's  not  to.be  confused  with  the 
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It  is  Sterling  Inlaid  to  stay 
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Two  blocks  of  sterling  silver  are  in- 
visibly  inlaid  at  backs  and  bowls 
of  most  used  spoons  and  forks  thus: 


For  prices  and  other  shopping  in- 
formation see  below. 


HOLMES  &  EDWARDS 

ST1KLIMG  IMLAI09 
SILVERPLATE 


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HERE  AND  HERE 
It's  Sterling  Inlaid 


f    »V    THE    INTCRNATIONAl    SU 


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I  didn't  meet  Bette  again  until  1932 
when  I,  too,  was  in  Hollywood,  and  she 
was  cast  in  "Cabin  in  the  Cotton,"  with 
Richard  Barthelmess.  As  dialogue  di- 
rector of  the  film,  I  was  instructed  by 
the  studio's  high  command  to  give  the 
Davis  girl  special  attention  because  she 
had  all  the  earmarks  of  a  great  prospect. 

"Cabin  in  the  Cotton"  was  the  movie 
in  which  Bette  switched  from  ingenue 
to  the-other-woman  portrayals,  and  I 
was  happy  to  have  Hollywood  confirm 
my  own  early  impression  of  the  Davis 
talents.  On  the  Warner  Brothers  lot, 
I  later*  directed  Bette  in  "Special 
Agent,"  "The  Bride  Came  C.O.D.,"  and 
"The  Man  Who  Came  to  Dinner." 

Miss  Davis  is  a  most  accomplished 
actress,  and  outside  of  the  near  tragedy 
when  she  swallowed  poison  by  mistake, 
the  only  problem  I  ever  had  with  her 
was  during  the  shooting  of  "The  Bride 
Came  C.O.D."  In  a  sequence  when  a 
gun  was  fired,  Bette  continually  reacted 
before  the  weapon  went  off. 

After  scores  of  futile  takes,  I  sug- 
gested that  we  avoid  her  premature 
flinching  by  doing  the  scene  without 
firing  the  gun.  Not  suspecting  that  I 
was  perpetrating  a  deception,  Bette 
agreed.  When  the  shot  came,  she  had 
not  expected  it,  and  the  scene  was 
perfect.    Bette  however,  was  furious. 

"Damn  you,  Bill  Keighley,"  she 
roared.    "I'll  never  trust  you  again." 

One  of  the  continuing  joys  of  produc- 
ing Radio  Theatre  is  that  I  am  con- 
stantly renewing  old  acquaintances.  In 
New  York  in  1930,  I  produced  and  di- 
rected a  play  called  "Penny  Arcade." 
In  the  cast  were  an  independent  little 
Irishman  named  James  Cagney,  a  ge- 
nial character  actor  named  George  Bar- 
bier,  and  a  vivacious  blonde  named  Joan 
Blondell.  They  are  somewhat  better 
known  now  as  movie  stars,  and  it  al- 
ways is  old  home  week  for  me  when 
they  appear  in  Lux  presentations. 

"Penny  Arcade"  brought  Jimmy  and 
Joan  to  Hollywood  when  Warner  Broth- 
ers purchased  the  screen  rights.  My 
first  assignment  as  permanent  Lux  pro- 
ducer found  Joan  co-starring  with 
James  Stewart  in  "Destry  Rides  Again." 

"I've  worked  with  Blondell  and  Cag- 
ney on  three  levels — on  the  New  York 
stage,  in  movies  and  on  radio.  I  directed 
Cagney  in  such  films  as  "Blood  on  the 
Sun,"  "G-Men,"  "The  Fighting  69th," 
"The  Bride  Came  C.O.D.,"  and  Joan  in 
"Kansas  City  Princess"  and  "Bullets  or 
Ballots." 

In  "Bullets  or  Ballots"  another  mem- 
ber of  my  cast  was  Edward  G.  Robin- 
son. Eddie  and  I  started  as  actors  at 
the  same  time.     In  simultaneous  New 


York  productions  against  World  War  I 
backgrounds,  Eddie  appeared  in  "Un- 
der Fire"  while  I  performed  in  "Inside 
the  Lines."  We  also  went  to  Europe 
and  studied  French  at  the  same  time. 
It  was  not  until  I  directed  Eddie  in 
"Bullets  or  Ballots"  that  I  had  occasion 
to  work  with  him  again. 

I  directed  Lux  regulars  Jimmy  Stew- 
art and  Rosalind  Russell  in  Warner 
Brothers'  "No  Time  for  Comedy,"  and 
I  performed  with  Ethel  Barrymore  in 
"Romeo  and  Juliet"  on  the  Paris  and 
Broadway  stages. 

Consequently  when  I  introduce  my 
stars  on  the  Radio  Theatre  and  de- 
scribe them  as  my  old  friends,  I  am  not 
making  fictional  conversation,  but  re- 
lating facts  in  which  I  take  much 
pleasure. 

Jimmy  Cagney,  for  instance,  did  not 
become  a  theatrical  renegade,  as  so 
many  believe,  only  after  he  acquired 
movie  riches.  When  I  was  casting 
"Penny  Arcade"  on  Broadway,  Jimmy 
displayed  the  same  temperament  then 
for  which  he  was  to  become  famous  as  a 
screen  star.  He  was  newly  married  and 
broke  when  I  offered  him  $200  a  week 
to  do  the  part,  but  Jimmy  boldly  de- 
manded $250.  Even  though  we  were 
adamant,  Jimmy  was  not  intimidated  by 
his  need,  and  he  delivered  a  $250  or 
nothing  dictum.    He  got  $250. 

There  are,  in  fact,  few  Lux  perform- 
ers whom  I  have  not  met  before  under 
different  professional  circumstances, 
either  on  the  stage  or  on  a  motion  pic- 
ture set.  Mary  Astor,  who  played  in 
"Cynthia"  for  me  on  Lux,  acted  in  the 
first  movie  I  directed,  "Easy  to  Love." 
Another  leading  lady  in  that  film  was 
Genevieve  Tobin.  Her  path  and  mine 
cross  quite  often  these  days.  This  is 
manifestly  unavoidable  since  she  is  my 
wife. 

Unlike  Bette  Davis,  Don  Ameche  pro- 
vided not  a  suicidal,  but  a  bacchanalian 
fright  soon  after  I  took  over  as  producer. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Keighley,"  he  said,  "would 
you  excuse  me  a  minute.  I've  got  to 
have  a  drink.  I  never  go  on  without 
one." 

What  Don  Ameche  or  anyone  else  did 
in  private  life  I  respect  as  none  of  my 
concern,  but  drinking  in  a  radio  studio 
could  be  tolerated  no  more  than  it 
would  be  on  a  motion  picture  set.  I 
followed  Ameche  into  the  Green  Room 
— the  Lux  Theatre  lounge — to  tell  him 
so.  It  was  too  late.  I  found  him  with 
the  bottle  to  his  mouth — swallowing  a 
pint  of  milk. 

Not  I,  but  the  engineer  was  convinced 
the  world  no  longer  was  revolving  on  its 
orbit  the  time  Dick  Powell  was  rehears- 


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ing  "T  Men,"  and  nary  a  sound  came 
into  the  control  booth.  Frantic,  the 
mixer — as  the  engineer  is  called — 
turned  knobs,  clicked  switches  on  and 
off,  and  pulled  cords  to  no  avail.  He 
became  panic  stricken  at  the  seeming 
mysterious  breakdown  of  his  apparatus. 

He  looked  through  the  glass,  and 
there  Dick  was,  emoting  to  beat  all, 
going  through  elaborate  gestures,  open- 
ing wide  his  mouth  so  that  every  syl- 
lable would  be  distinct.  Yet  not  a  mur- 
mur registered.  Finally,  other  members 
of  the  cast  broke  up  in  laughter,  and 
the  engineer  learned  he  had  been  the 
victim  of  a  Powell  prank.  Dick  had 
been  moving  his  lips,  but  had  not  been 
saying  anything. 

I  remember,  as  probably  most  fans 
have  forgotten,  when  Dick  was  typed 
as  a  musical  comedy  star — and  a  very 
good  one.  I  directed  him  in  one  of 
these  Warner  extravaganzas,  "Varsity 
Show."  It  was  not  until  he  was  cast 
in  tough  private  eye  roles  that  Dick  es- 
sayed a  film  comeback.  When  I  men- 
tioned at  a  rehearsal  the  sharp  change 
in  his  movie  roles,  Dick  laughed,  "Yes, 
and  there's  also  been  a  change  in  my 
pocketbook — upward." 

NOT  all  equipment  breakdowns  are 
jokes  or  joking  matters,  as  sound 
man  Forsyth  can  attest.  The  muted 
motor,  the  squeaking  gate,  the  prema- 
ture fusillade  and  the  plateslide  are 
harrowing  broadcast  episodes  that  still 
evoke  shudders  upon  recollection. 

During  a  show  guest-starring  Bob 
Burns,  the  script  called  for,  in  the 
order  named,  a  music  bridge,  the  sound 
of  an  automobile  pulling  away,  another 
music  bridge  denoting  lapse  of  travel 
time,  the  sound  of  crickets,  indicating 
new  surroundings,  and  lastly  the  sound 
of  the  same  car  coming  in  at  full  swell 
and  then  halting. 

After  the  second  music  bridge, 
Charlie  put  the  needle  down  on  the  rec- 
ords on  which  he  had  captured  the 
sound  of  the  approaching  halting  car 
and  the  sound  of  the  crickets.  The  disc 
was  dead.  The  amplifier  tube  had 
blown  out. 

"I  felt,"  Forsyth  revealed  later,  "like 
a  man  on  the  top  of  a  hill  who  applies 
his  brakes  and  finds  there  aren't  any." 

Charlie  quickly  fell  back  on  another 
sound  prop,  a  car  door.  He  slammed 
it  with  relish,  following  which  he  simu- 
lated footsteps.  Thus  with  different 
sounds  he  established  the  same  effect. 

Another  incident  that  sandpapered 
Forsyth's  nerves  occurred  during  the 
presentation  of  "Random  Harvest," 
starring  Academy  winner  Ronald  Col- 
man.  Charlie  was  using,  for  the  first 
time,  a  wooden  gate  on  which  he  had 
lavished  nine  months  of  labor  to  per- 
fect a  squeak  that  would  be  recognized 
instantly  by  the  listening  audience.  He 
had  taken  it  apart  and  put  it  together 
innumerable  times.  He  had  had  the 
prop  weathered  and  reweathered,  had 
had  the  hinges  sanded  and  resanded, 
and  had  experimented  with  the  gate 
tirelessly  until  it  rewarded  him  with 
just  the  sound  he  wanted. 

Colman  played  an  amnesia  victim 
who  returned  instinctively  to  the  cot- 
tage where  his  faithful  wife  had  clung 
to  hope,  not  knowing  what  had  hap- 
pened to  him.  The  gate  to  his  home 
always  had  squeaked.  Before  her  hus- 
band had  disappeared,  the  squeak  in- 
variably had  told  the  woman  of  his 
return.  That  was  how  it  was  supposed 
to  be  in  the  poignant  climax. 

At  the  crucial  second,  Charles  flung 
open  his  treasured  gate.  It  did  not 
squeak.    It  was  noiseless.    The  impact 


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of  the  play  would  have  been  lost,  the 
climactic  scene  ruined  if  quick-thinking 
Colman  had  not  called  out,  "Darling,  I 
see  you  have  finally  oiled  the  gate." 

Forsyth  later  cleared  up  the  mystery. 
He  had  told  his  young  assistant  to  clean 
up  after  dress  rehearsal.  When  his 
obedient  hireling  chanced  to  hear  the 
gate  squeak,  he  betook  himself  like  the 
eager  beaver  he  was,  and  oiled  it. 

Once  Charlie's  own  over-zealousness 
got  him  in  a  tight  spot.  In  "Destry 
Rides  Again,"  Jimmy  Stewart  was  to 
establish  his  marksmanship  in  a  strange 
town.  This  is  how  the  sequence  ap- 
peared in  the  script: 

Stewart — "You  see  that  sign  down 
the  street?  You  see  those  five  orna- 
ments on  top?" 

Other  man — "Yeah." 

Stewart — "Now  you  see  'em.  .  .  ." 

Sound — five  pistol  shots  in  rapid  or- 
der. 

Stewart — "Now  you  don't." 

That  is  not  the  way  it  happened. 
Stewart  no  sooner  said,  "You  see  those 
five  ornaments  on  top?"  then  Forsyth 
literally  jumped  the  gun  and  fired  a 
volley  of  five  shots.  Unfazed,  Stewart 
kept  pace  with  the  telescoped  cue  and 
observed  dryly,  "Now  you  don't  see  'em 
anymore." 

Forsyth  must  have  had  the  worst  mo- 
ment of  his  career  when  Bette  Davis 
delivered  her  curtain  speech  after  the 
third  act  of  "The  Letter."  This  was  a 
tense,  dramatic  production.  Anything 
incongruous  would  destroy  the  care- 
fully built  up  mood.  Charlie  had  ready 
a  pile  of  plates  which  he  planned  to  use 
in  a  dish-washing  commercial  two  min- 
utes later. 

Seated  on  a  stool,  he  turned  halfway 
around.  As  he  did  so,  his  elbow  dis- 
lodged the  plates.  They  cascaded  to 
the  floor  with  a  deafening  clatter. 
Charlie  looked  down  at  the  stage  for  a 
sign  of  the  chaos  he  was  sure  must 
have  been  precipitated  by  the  accident. 
He  was  amazed.  Nobody  showed  evi- 
dence that  he  had  heard  the  thunderous 
plateslide. 

Then  Forsyth  realized  what  had  saved 
him.  The  sound  booth  was  off  stage, 
and  the  tumultuous  applause  of  the 
audience  had  drowned  out  the  racket  of 
the  falling  dishes. 

Forsyth  is  without  peer  in  his  craft. 
Yet  chance  lays  its  booby-traps  for  him, 
as  it  does  for  all  this  carefully  thought 
out,  carefully  planned,  rigorously  re- 
hearsed production.  For  example,  it 
may  take  more  than  an  hour  of  trial 
and  error  elimination  to  master  one  ef- 
fect. There  was  one  such  afternoon 
when  Joseph  Cotten  rehearsed  "I'll  Be 


Seeing  You."  The  only  sound  in  a 
highly  dramatic  scene  was  the  beating 
of  Cotten's  heart.  Easier  said  than 
simulated. 

Charlie  trotted  out  an  amazing  assort- 
ment of  devices.  He  even  held  the  mi- 
crophone to  his  own  heart.  But  he  did 
not  achieve  an  authentic  reproduction 
of  a  heartbeat  until,  by  chance,  he 
tapped  the  base  of  the  microphone  with 
his  forefinger.  If  it  is  humanly  possible 
to  prevent  error  through  exhaustive 
preparation,  no  mortal  in  radio  is  more 
foolproof  than  Forsyth. 

Yet  the  most  painstaking  falter,  and 
I  do  not  except  myself.  That  is  why  I 
go  over  my  script  at  least  50  times  in 
advance  every  week,  marking  every  if, 
and,  and  but  for  pause  and  emphasis.  I 
listen  to  recordings  of  every  show  and 
often  ferret  out  in  that  manner  flaws 
of  which  I  am  not  aware  during  a  broad- 
cast. 

Among  my  most  memorable  experi- 
ences was  the  night  that  genial,  lum- 
bering Wallace  Beery  appeared  in 
"Barnacle  Bill."  He  had  insisted  upon 
making  the  radio  version  a  family 
affair.  He  wanted  his  brother,  Noah, 
co-starred,  as  well  as  his  daughter, 
Carole  Ann.  We  were  quite  content  to 
gratify  his  wish,  but  fate  was  not. 

Noah  Beery  died  suddenly  on  a  Sun- 
day night,  the  eve  of  the  broadcast. 
Wally,  faithful  to  the  code  of  the  thea- 
ter, went  on  with  the  show,  a  broad 
farcical  comedy.  Neither  he  nor  his 
daughter  wore  mourning  bands,  nor  did 
they  do  anything  else  to  indicate  their 
grief  to  the  audience.  I  knew  Wallace's 
sorrow,  and  to  me  it  was  Pagliacci  at 
his  most  gripping. 

The  ancient  creed  of  the  theater,  so 
sacred  to  Wallace  Beery,  has  ever  been 
the  guiding  core  of  Radio  Theatre.  That 
is  why  the  program  has  become  one  of 
the  most  respected  institutions  on  the 
air,  and  why  it  has  survived  while 
other,  more  pretentious  broadcasting 
ideas  have  proved  ephemeral. 

I  came  as  a  guest  and  remained  as 
producer  and  host.  So  it  was  with 
maestro  Lou  Silvers.  Silvers  won  the 
first  Academy  Award  for  motion  pic- 
ture music.  He  received  an  offer,  as  a 
result,  to  lead  the  Lux  orchestra.  He 
had  had  no  previous  radio  experience 
and  craved  none,  but  friends  urged  him 
to  accept  the  engagement  for  the  pres- 
tige involved. 

"You  won't  be  stuck,"  he  was  assured. 
"The  show  will  fold  any  day.  That 
sort  of  thing  doesn't  last." 

That  was  thirteen  years  ago.  The 
Radio  Theatre  show  has  gone  on — de- 
spite races  against  deadlines  and 
squeakless  gate  squeaks. 


all   amerieu   heeps   a   date   with 

Bert  Parks 

©re   "STOP  THE   MUSIC" 

Many  a  pot  boils  over  in  millions  of  American 
homes  every  Sunday  night — because  Mom,  Pop  and 
all  the  kids  sit  around  with  one  ear  on  the  radio, 
one    ear    cocked    to    the   family    telephone. 

Reason:  a  sensational  radio  show  called  "Stop 
The  Music"  (8  p.m.  EST)  Sunday  Night— ABC  Net- 
work— which  gives  people  at  home  a  chance  to  stop 
the  music  for  prizes  by  long-distance  telephone.  Bert 
Parks  talks  to  all  America— so  listen  to  "STOP  THE 
MUSIC"  next  Sunday  night. 
He   may   be   colling    you! 

Tune  in   '"STOP  THE  MUSIC"    Every  Sunday 

Bert  Parks  tells  his  own  life  story  in  the  current  issue 
of  TRUE  STORY  magazine  now  at  newsstands. 


My  Friend  Irma 

(Continued  from  page  31) 

a  habit  that's  easily  broken.  I'd  have 
been  as  forlorn  as  Metro  minus  Gold- 
wyn  and  Mayer  if  I  hadn't  been  able 
to  keep  all  my  folks  around  me.  The 
bulk  of  my  inheritance  was  spent  on 
a  house  in  Hollywood  big  enough  to 
accommodate  all  my  near  relatives,  and 
some  who  were  never  around  except  at 
mealtime.  Then  we  laid  in  a  big  stock 
of  canned  goods,  enough  to  keep  our 
waistlines  at  full  measure  for  a  couple 
of  months  till  I  should  have  attained 
stardom. 

Naturally,  to  my  sixteen-year-old 
"mind,"  the  essential  ingredient  for  suc- 
cess in  Hollywood  was  "front,"  and  for 
that  you  had  to  have  a  fur  coat — and  it 
had  to  be  mink.  Even  in  those  days 
you  didn't  go  shopping  for  mink  at 
Woolworth.  After  I'd  written  the  check 
for  the  coat  I  found  I'd  have  to  wear 
it  with  my  old  shoes.  After  all,  where 
can  you  get  a  pair  of  shoes  for  $1.13? 
Only — my  old  shoes  were  tennis  shoes 
— and  they  were  all  I  had. 

Next  morning  I  donned  my  shining 
armor — my  mink — and  sallied  forth  to 
attack  the  casting  directors.  It  was  a 
misty  cool  morning  when  I  started  out. 
But  by  noon,  after  I'd  found  several 
studio  gatemen  strangely  impervious  to 
the  glamor  of  mink,  the  sun  had  been 
out  for  a  couple  of  hours,  and  inside  of 
that  coat — well,  all  I  can  say  is,  I  don't 
see  how  the  minks  stand  it  on  hot  days. 

I  COULDN'T  take  the  darn  thing  off, 
*  because  underneath  it,  I  was  wearing 
a  house  dress  which  was  plastered  to 
me  as  if  I'd  been  standing  under  a 
shower.  My  cheeks  felt  as  if  you  could 
have  broiled  steaks  in  their  glow,  and 
I  imagine  I  looked  about  as  wan  and 
ethereal  as  a  boiled  lobster. 

My  last  stop  this  side  of  Complete 
Despair  was  Central  Casting,  where  film 
extras  are  registered  and  informed  of 
day-by-day  jobs  in  the  studios — a  size- 
able comedown  from  stardom.  But  still, 
an  extra,  when  she  was  working,  was 
in  the  movies,  so  I  went  there.  My  ar- 
rival in  the  crowded  waiting  room  of 
that  agency  created  a  considerable  stir 
of  creaking  necks  and  popping  eyes. 

But  encouragement  came  with  the 
man  at  the  desk.  He  leaned  back  in 
his  chair  and  looked  me  over  apprecia- 
tively. "Whatta  sensa  yuma,  whatta 
sensa  yuma!  Honey  blonde  hair,  fur 
coat,  blackface,  and  tennis  shoes." 

I  smiled.  Blackface?  Then  it  hit  me — 
my  mascara  must  have  melted  and  run. 
I  kept  on  smiling,  but  my  face  got  aw- 
fully tired. 

The  man  told  me,  "Theh  needin'  ex- 
tras for  a  comedy  over  at  Hal  Roach's 
tamarra  mornin'.  Six-thirty.  Be  theh. 
Just  like  you  are.  Don't  change  a  thing." 

That's  how  I  started  what  we  laugh- 
ingly refer  to  as  my  movie  career.  And 
after  three  years  of  extra  work  I  was 
no  nearer  stardom  than  if  I'd  stayed  in 
Anaheim.  Did  I  get  discouraged?  Cer- 
tainly, I  did.  Nobody  but  a  nitwit 
would  have  failed  to  get  discouraged. 

I  got  so  discouraged  I  even  spent 
some  of  my  earnings  as  an  extra  for 
dramatic  lessons,  before  I  got  them — 
the  earnings,  I  mean.  If  there  were 
mornings,  and  believe  me  there  were, 
when  the  prospect  of  getting  up  in  the 
gray  dawn  in  order  to  be  on  some  movie 
lot  by  six-thirty  or  seven  seemed  less 
than  enticing,  the  thought  of  the  money 
I  owed  for  my  coaching  was  sufficient 
to  propel  me  out  of  bed.  By  staying  in 
debt,  I  kept  myself  liberally  supplied 


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Q.     How  has  she  failed? 

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with  necessary  incentive  for  working. 

However,  there  came  a  time,  when 
I  was  about  nineteen,  when  I  felt  com- 
pelled to  stop  and  ask  myself:  "Wilson, 
whither  are  we  heading?" 

So  I  put  on  my  mink  coat  and  went 
to  see  a  director  with  whom  I'd  scraped 
up  an  acquaintance  over  a  flooded  car- 
buretor. He'd  de-flooded  it  for  me,  and 
consequently  could  be  counted  on,  I 
hoped,  to  feel  kindly  toward  me,  pos- 
sibly even  helpful.  Helpful  turned  out 
to  be  the  word;  he  got  me  a  screen  test 
at  MGM.  Everyone  was  nice,  but  noth- 
ing happened. 

Meanwhile,  over  at  Warners  the 
Brothers  were  desperate.  A  friend  of 
mine  who  worked  nights  there  cleaning 
the  offices  told  me  about  it. 

"There  they  were  at  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning,"  my  friend  reported,  "the 
four  of  them,  chewing  their  cigars  and 
the  corners  of  the  rug  and  moaning 
there  wasn't  an  actress  in  Hollywood 
dumb  enough  to  be  convincing  in  the 
feminine  lead  of  Boy  Meets  Girl." 

Right  there  I  sensed  that  that  part 
was  for  me.    I  was  right.    I  got  it. 

Among  the  actors  who  supported  me 
were  James  Cagney  and  Pat  O'Brien. 
They  were  awfully  nice  and  so  were  the 
critics  after  the  picture  was  released. 
Some  of  them  even  crawled  so  far  out 
on  a  limb  as  to  say,  "A  new  star  has 
appeared  in  the  Hollywood  firmament." 
And  then  went  on  and  sawed  it  off  by 
adding,  "Surely  the  Brothers  Warner 
will  be  planning  new  vehicles  for  their 
enticing  discovery,   Marie  Wilson." 

For  accuracy,  this  prediction  ranked 
right  next  to  the  then  current  one  that 
the  French  would  whip  Hitler  in  sixty 
days. 

Of  course  I  had  a  contract  with  War- 
ner Brothers,  one  that  paid  me  a  nice 
salary,  but  contracts  have  little  thing- 
umajigs in  them  known  as  renewal 
clauses  or  options.  And  an  option,  when 
dropped  from  a  sufficient  altitude,  can 
be  a  deadly  weapon.  It  nearly  killed 
me  when   Warners  dropped  mine. 

Then  Anita  Loos  decided  she'd  finally 
found  someone  dumb  enough  (me)  to 
play  Lorelie  in  a  play  version  of  "Gen- 
tlemen Prefer  Blondes."  Our  play  had 
a  brisk  run  of  three  weeks  on  the  straw 
hat  circuit,  and  then  folded.  Whose 
fault  this  was  is  a  matter  I'll  be  glad 
to  ignore — now  and  forever.  Anita  was 
very  kind  about  it  to  me.  She  didn't 
say  anything. 

However,  I  didn't  let  the  play's  flop 
cheat  me  out  of  the  visit  to  New  York 
I'd  been  looking  forward  to.  Anita's 
capacity  for  forgiveness  was  so  great 
she  even  took  me  around  to  several 
parties,   introducing   me   to   producers, 


critics,    and    other    important    people. 

But  still  by  the  time  I'd  been  in  New 
York  six  weeks,  I  was  getting  so  darn 
homesick  that  my  long  distance  calls 
to  my  folks  back  in  Hollywood  were 
one  of  the  brightest  pages  in  the  Bell 
Telephone  Company's  earnings  report 
for  that  year.  Mama  said  my  two 
younger  brothers  were  so  depressed  by 
my  absence  they'd  quit  throwing 
oranges  at  each  other  during  breakfast 
— poor  darlings — and  Uncle  Gier  said  he 
had  a  big  deal  cooking  for  me.  One  or 
two  of  the  producers  whom  I'd  met 
had  hinted  that  unemployment  would 
not  figure  seriously  in  my  problems  if 
I'd  stick  around.  But  I  wanted  to  go 
home,  and  I  went. 

Now  comes  the  nicest  part  of  this 
story,  the  part  where  I  meet  Allan.  It 
happened  on  the  Republic  lot,  where 
I'd  gone  to  work  shortly  after  my  re- 
turn from  New  York.  The  picture  was 
one  of  the  first  about  women  in  the 
armed  services.  The  Waves  or  Wacs, 
I'm  not  sure  which.  I  had  the  second 
feminine  lead  in  the  picture,  playing  a 
comedy  blonde  against  Helen  Terry,  the 
lovely  brunette  who  had  the  lead.  Helen 
and  I  wore  identical  costumes  in  the 
picture,  uniforms.  It  seems  the  armed 
services  are  awfully  hide-bound  about 
those  little  feminine  touches  that  could 
give .  individuality  to  their  uniforms.  I 
found  that  out  when  the  director  of  the 
picture  told  me  I  positively  couldn't 
wear  the  sash  I'd  put  on  to  make  my 
costume  a  little  different. 

I  tried  to  reason  with  him.  "How  are 
they  going  to  tell  Helen  and  me  apart 
in  the  picture,  if  we're  both  dressed 
exactly  alike?"  I  asked. 

I  never  saw  a  man  act  so  silly  over 
a  simple  question.  He  certainly  looked 
idiotic  beating  himself  over  the  head 
with  the  assistant  director.  "Helen's  a 
brunette!"  he  screamed. 

"Do  you  think  I'm  blind?"  I  fired 
back.  "I  know  that."  They  took  him 
away  and  got  another  director. 

But  to  get  back  to  meeting  Allan. 
Helen  and  I  were  doing  a  dance  routine 
together  on  one  of  the  sound  stages  one 
day  when  I  noticed  a  couple  fellows 
I'd  seen  around  the  lot  before  eyeing 
us  pretty  closely.  At  this  time,  the  FBI 
was  watching  everything,  but  my  con- 
science was  clear,  I  wasn't  worried.  I 
was  just  hoping  I  could  get  a  closer 
look  at  the  taller  one  of  the  two  fellows 
who  were  surveying  us.  From  our  dis- 
tance, he  looked  like  something  I'd  have 
been  delighted  to  get  a  better  look  at. 

A  little  later,  after  Helen  and  I  had 
finished  our  scene  and  were  freshening 
our  make-up  at  dressing  tables  on  the 
side  of  the  stage,  the  big  guy  strolled 


66 


oh 


BLONDIE 


•>•> 


Listen  to  the  Hilarious  Adventures  of 
Blondie  and  Dagwood  on  the  BLONDIE 
show  every  WEDNESDAY  night  NBC 

And  hear  all  about  the  jingle  contest 


over,  took  up  a  position  about  fifteen 
points  off  my  port  beam,  and  said, 
"Hello." 

I  twisted  around  on  my  chair  and 
said,    "Hello." 

Then  for  awhile  the  conversation  lan- 
guished. I  knew  it  would  sound  silly 
if  I  busted  right  out  and  said  what  I 
was  thinking,  "Gosh,  you're  beautiful." 

He  did,  though,  finally.  He  said  it 
right  out.    "Gosh,  you're  beautiful." 

That  sort  of  cleared  the  way  for  me. 
"I  think  you  are  too,"  I  said 

"Are  you  doing  anything  tonight?" 
he  asked. 

"Nothing  except  whatever  you  have 
in  mind,"  I  said. 

That's  how  Allan  and  I  made  our  first 
date.  That  evening  he  told  me  a  little 
more  of  the  circumstances  which  had 
led  to  our  meeting.  He  wasn't  from  the 
FBI  at  all.  He  was  an  actor,  working 
for  Republic,  too.  He  said  he  and  his 
friend,  a  writer,  had  stopped  by  to 
watch  Helen  and  me  and  had  gotten 
into  a  little  debate.  The  subject  was: 
Which  One  of  the  Two  Cupcakes  Had 
You  Rather  Be  Stuck  Between  Floors 
With  in  an  Elevator.  And  Allan — well, 
he  said  he'd  rather  the  blonde. 

SO  Allan  and  I  were  married  in  1942. 
Shortly  after,  he  entered  the  Army 
Air  Force  as  an  enlisted  man,  and  came 
out  four  years  later  a  sergeant. 

It  wasn't  very  wonderful  for  me 
while  he  was  gone.  It  would  have  been 
downright  dismal  if  I  hadn't  kept  busy, 
sometimes  as  many  as  sixty  or  seventy 
hours  a  week.  Thirty  hours  of  all  my 
weeks  since  the  summer  of  1942  have 
been  contributed  to  Ken  Murray's 
Blackouts,  in  return  for  which  Ken 
gives  me  a  sizable  weekly  contribution. 
Days,  I  work  in  the  movie  studios  on 
days  when  they've  got  work  for  me. 
Which  is  fairly  frequently.  There  have 
been  no  more  starring  roles  for  me, 
but  plenty  of  good  secondary  parts.  I 
believe  I  like  them  better.  Then,  if  the 
picture  flops,  you  don't  have  to  go 
around  explaining  why  it  wasn't  your 
fault. 

A  year  ago,  Irma  came  into  my  life. 
Irma  is  the  creation  of  a  man  named  Cy 
Howard  who  works  for  CBS,  although 
I  have  heard  rumors  that  sometimes 
CBS  feels  it's  the  other  way  around. 
Anyway,  Mr.  Howard,  who  is  devoted 
to  me  sometimes  for  as  long  as  twenty 
minutes  a  week,  thought  I  would  be  the 
right  person  to  play  Irma  in  his  radio 
show.  He  called  me  one  day  and  asked 
me  to  come  over  to  the  studio  and  meet 
his  brainchild.  I  did;  she  seemed  a  con- 
genial sort  of  person  for  me  to  be, 
so  I  took  the  job.  For  her  first  twenty 
weeks  Irma  was  sponsorless,  which  in 
radio  is  a  condition  equivalent  to  public 
nudity.  Then  Lever  Brothers  adopted 
her,  and  now  she's  decently  covered 
with  soapsuds.  And  it  looks — Hooper 
willing — as  though  she  were  going  to 
stay  that  way  for  quite  a  while.  Which 
is  fine  with  me — especially  since  I've 
given  myself  this  airing! 


Margaret  and  Barbara  Whiting 

have  strong  ideas  about  being  sisters 
—  and  they  talk  about  each  other 
in  the 

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Blondie — My  Favorite  Mother 

(Continued  from  page  41) 


recently  that  she  should  really  learn  to 
cook.  She  secured  a  home,  economics 
expert,  Mrs.  Cleo  Kerley,  as  cooking 
coach  and  for  weeks  our  table  looked 
like  Christmas  at  the  Waldorf.  The 
only  trouble  was  that  when  Mother 
was  studying  salads,  we  had  seven 
kinds  for  dinner  one  night. 

By  the  time  she  had  worked  her  way 
through  the  cook  book  to  desserts, 
Daddy  humorously  brought  home  a 
stack  of  hamburgers  as  a  precaution. 
This  was  a  smart  move  as  the  ham- 
burgers tasted  very  good  after  a  dinner 
consisting  of  Baked  Alaska,  Cherries 
Jubilee,  floating  island,  fudge  cake, 
and  boysenberry  mousse.  No  one  was 
sick  afterward,  either. 

Nowadays  the  experimental  stage  is 
over,  so  we  are  living  on  the  best  bal- 
anced diet  outside  a  health  farm.  Our 
calories  are  counted  in  fractions  and 
you  should  see  our  vitamins  and  min- 
erals pile  up. 

The  innocent  bystander  might  sup- 
pose that  this  gorgeous  food  would 
ruin  the  famous  Singleton  figure.  Most 
of  my  girl  friends'  mothers  are  careful 
about  bread  and  potatoes,  but  not  that 
mother  of  mine!  She  can  eat  two  break- 
fasts per  day  (one  with  Daddy  before 
he  leaves  for  the  studio,  and  a  second 
with  Susy  and  me  before  we  leave  for 
school),  she  can  lunch  on  salad  and 
orange  rolls,  and  she  can  dine  on  steak, 
baked  potato,  and  French  pastry  but 
the  next  day  she  will  be  able  to  fasten 
the  twenty-two-inch  waistband  of  her 
peasant  skirt  without  even  holding  her 
breath. 

Daddy  says  she  has  so  much  energy 
that  she  burns  up  enough  fuel  to  run 
a  studio  power  plant.  Daddy  and 
Mother  have  many  jokes  between  them 
— they  are  always  laughing  about  some- 
thing that  Susy  and  I  haven't  been  told, 
but  we  don't  mind.  Mother  has  ex- 
plained to  us  that  everyone  should 
have  a  secret  which  is  shared  with  only 
one  or  two  persons  in  your  own  family. 

Mother  and  I  have  several  lovely  sec- 
crets;  Susy  and  Mother  have  a  secret 
or  two.  At  Christmas  time  Mother  and 
Susy  and  I  have  secrets  from  Daddy; 
Daddy,  Susy  and  I  have  secrets  from 
Mother.  Conspirators,  that's  what  we 
are,  but  it  gives  us  a  cozy  feeling  of 
being  in  on  important  events. 

I  have  a  girl  friend  who  sort  of 
laughed  at  this  tradition.  She  said  that 
she  and  her  mother  had  never  shared 


a  secret  in  their  lives.  As  Mother  says, 
of  course,  every  family  is  different  and 
every  family  has  to  plan  its  life  in  its 
own  way  but  she  agrees  with  me  that 
a  girl  who  has  never  had  a  strictly 
confidential  talk  with  her  mother  is 
missing  quite  a  lot  in  life.  My  goodness, 
I  wouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  my- 
self if  I  couldn't  hurry  home  from 
school,  swear  Mother  to  secrecy,  and 
tell  her  some  utterly  exciting  thing  that 
had  happened. 

Sometimes  our  secrets  aren't  really 
solemn.  Sometimes  they  are  about  a 
surprise  dessert  on  Sunday,  or  a  new 
sweater  I  am  going  to  wear  horseback 
riding.  But  sometimes  the  cross-your- 
heart  subject  is  the  stork's  plan  to 
bring  a  new  baby  to  someone  in  our 
neighborhood.  (Susy  still  believes  in 
the  stork.) 

My  mother  is  good  at  giving  a  person 
self-confidence.  I  am  already  taller 
than  she  is,  and  I  am  built — let's  be 
frank — on  the  knitting  needle  pattern: 
long  and  slim.  When  I  realized  that 
I  am  going  to  be  five  feet  six  or  seven 
before  I  stop  growing  (I  am  now  four- 
teen) I  began  to  slump.  I  let  my  shoul- 
ders fall  forward  and  I  carried  my  head 
on  the  side.  It  made  me  seem  almost 
as  little  as  my  school  friends  or  Mother, 
I  thought. 

I  didn't  get  away  with  it.  Mother 
noticed  what  I  was  doing  and  we  had 
one  of  our  "open  forurn"  talks.  She 
said  that  she  had  always  wanted  to  be 
taller  than  she  is  and  she  explained 
why.  She  thinks  that  tall  women  wear 
their  clothing  to  greater  advantage; 
she  thinks  they  can  be  more  daring 
in  their  choice  of  color  and  line.  Some- 
how I  had  never  thought  how  nice  a 
tall  girl  could  look  if  she  wouldn't  ooze 
around  all  bent  over  like  a  pretzel. 

Incidentally,  I  think  Mother  has  won- 
derful taste  in  clothes.  When  the  "new 
look"  came  in,  she  predicted  that  it 
wouldn't  last  more  than  two  months. 
She  bought  some  long,  inexpensive 
peasant  outfits  and  moved  her  good 
things  to  a  cedar  closet  to  await  devel- 
opments. Well,  the  developments  were 
all  toward  the  floor,  so — -because  we 
girls  wear  our  suits  much  shorter  than 
our  mothers  do — I  inherited  all  of 
Mother's  wardrobe.  Her  suits,  her  af- 
ternoon dresses,  her  coats!  A  great  day. 

There  is  one  time,  though,  when 
Mother  couldn't  get  on  an  American 
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the  funniest  sights  I  have  ever  seen  is 
the  spectacle  of  Mother  flying  around 
the  kitchen  when  she  is  preparing 
breakfast  in  the  morning.  Her  favorite 
costume  is  a  pair  of  play  shorts,  a 
matching  shirt,  and  billowing  kitchen 
apron.  From  the  front,  Mother  is  a 
picture  of  pinafored  domesticity,  but 
from  the  rear  she  looks  like  a  drawing 
from  Esquire. 

I  suppose  every  mother  and  daughter 
have  some  disagreements  about  what 
is  the  correct  thing  for  the  daughter  to 
wear  on  certain  occasions.  I  know  that 
Mother  and  I  differ  (very  politely,  of 
course)  with  each  other  on  one  thing. 
I  am  practically  grown  up,  so  I  think 
I  should  be  allowed  to  have  a  black 
satin  date  dress.  Every  girl  I  know 
thinks  she  should  have  a  black  satin 
date  dress  when  she  is  old  enough — 
which  is  now. 

Mother  has  never  given  me  a  flat 
"no;"  she  gets  around  me  by  suggesting 
that  we  buy  "mother  &  daughter"  out- 
fits .  .  .  which  I  love,  but  which  are 
not  made  in  black  satin.  I  know  that 
she  is  getting  around  me  when  she  does 
it,  but  she's  so  cute  that  I  just  laugh 
and  let  the  black  satin  go  for  the  time 
being.  Maybe,  in  a  year  or  so,  I'll 
change  my  mind  about  wanting  it  any- 
way .  .  .  which  is  what  Mother  says 
I'll  do. 

I1NCHANGING  as  is  Mother's  taste  in 
U  regard  to  her  daughter's  wardrobes, 
she  is  unpredictable  as  to  her  own 
wardrobe  or  hair  style.  Particularly 
the  latter,  a  fact  that  made  me  the 
victim  of  one  of  her  whims. 

For  several  weeks  Mother  had  been 
wearing  her  hair  brushed  sleekly  away 
from  a  center  part,  braided  in  two 
plaits,  then  worn  with  the  plaits  crossed 
over  the  top  of  her  head.  The  style  was 
a  favorite  with  Daddy  because,  he  said 
it  made  Mother  look  like  Susy's  young- 
er sister. 

A  girl  friend  and  I  were  emerging 
from  a  matinee  one  Saturday  when  I 
caught  sight  of  a  pretty  blonde  person 
walking  up  the  street.  She  was  wearing 
her  hair  in  Mother's  style,  she  was 
wearing  a  white  blouse  and  a  peasant 
skirt  much  like  one  that  Mother  had, 
so  naturally  I  uttered  a  whoop  and 
rushed  up  to  slide  my  arm  around  her 
waist  and  shout,  "What  are  you  doing 
here,  Mommy?" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  blonde 
lady  who  was  a  total  stranger  to  me. 

I  nearly  died  of  humiliation.  I  ex- 
plained to  my  girl  friend  that  my 
mother  was  wearing  her  hair  in  pig- 
tails, criss-crossed,  and  that  my  mother 
had  a  peasant  outfit  exactly  like  the 
strange  lady's  .  .  .  etc.  etc.  We  reached 
home,  and  you  can  imagine  my  embar- 
rassment at  finding  Mrs.  Robert  Sparks 
with  her  hair  falling  loose  about  her 
face  in  one  of  those  soft  new  bobs.  My 
problem  parent! 

When  Mother  isn't  cooking,  shopping 
or  thinking  up  new  hair  styles,  she 
keeps  busy  by  working  at  one  of  her 
hobbies.  Several  of  these  hobbies  are 
things  which  Susy  and  I  share  with 
Mother.  For  instance,  when  we  started 
to  take  dancing  lessons.  Mother  decided 
to  join  us.  "You'll  crack  something," 
predicted  Susy,  the  pessimistic  member 
of  our  family. 

Not  only  were  there  no  ill  affects 
to  Mother's  physique,  but  our  dancing 
lessons  revealed  her  as  the  most  lithe 
and  limber  member  of  our  family.  She 
is  what  the  dancing  teacher  calls  a 
"natural."  That  is,  her  muscular  co- 
ordination is  almost  perfect  and  she 
"catches  on"  to  steps  quickly. 


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Susy  and  I  discovered  promptly  that 
if  we  didn't  quite  understand  what  the 
teacher  was  trying  to  convey,  we 
needn't  worry.  That  night  in  our  "open 
forum"  meeting,  we  could  ask  Mother 
about  it  and  she  could  show  us  exactly 
what  had  been  meant  and  how  to  do  it. 

When  Susy  and  I  started  to  take 
music  lessons,  Mother  decided  to  study 
with  us,  although  she  had  learned  the 
rudiments  of  piano  several  years  ago. 
I'm  a  little  better  with  the  bass  than 
she  is,  on  some  types  of  music,  and 
she's  better  in  the  treble,  so  we  play 
two-handed  duets.  You  should  hear 
Daddy  laugh.  He  says  we  are  no  threat 
to  the  supremacy  of  Jose  and  Amparo 
Iturbi. 

We  are  a  threat  to  Gene  Autry  and 
Roy  Rogers,  though — as  soon  as  we 
learn  to  sing!  Mother,  Susy  and  I  are 
taking  riding  lessons.  Susy  and  I — well 
— we  stick  on.  But  you  would  think 
Mother  was  a  little  old  gaucho.  One 
afternoon  Susy  and  I  were  riding  with 
the  groom  while  Mother  and  the  in- 
structor trotted  ahead,  practicing  a 
technique  known  as  "posting."  A  pair 
of  sailors  galloped  past  us  just  as  one 
said  to  the  other,  "Oh  boy,  look  at  that 
gorgeous  blonde.  Bet  I  can  make  a 
date  with  her." 

SUSY  and  I  merely  looked  at  each 
other  out  of  the  corners  of  our  eyes, 
and  thought,   "If  he  only   knew!" 

I  do  think  Susy  and  I  have  been  a 
great  help  to  Mother  in  her  active 
sports,  but  I  can't  say  as  much  for  our 
participation  in  her  passive   hobbies. 

I  hate  to  bring  this  up,  but  Mother 
collects  stamps.  She  has  catalogues, 
files,  boxes,  glassine  bags,  and  accor- 
dion holders  stacked  here  and  there 
throughout  the  house.  One  never  knows 
when  Mother  will  wander  through  a 
room  pinching  a  stamp  between  tweez- 
ers in  one  hand,  while  holding  a  huge 
descriptive  book  in  the  other.  All  I  can 
say  is  that  I'm  glad  she  isn't  wild  about 
butterflies. 

The  stamp  collection  and  I  met  in 
mortal  combat  when  I  needed  a  stamp 
one  morning  for  the  ordinary  purpose 
of  mailing  a  letter.  Without  thinking, 
I  rushed  to  Mother's  desk,  grabbed  the 
first  pretty  square  I  could  find  (I  had 
to  separate  it  from  a  block  of  four)  and 
rushed  on  to  school. 

When  I  came  home  that  afternoon  I 
noted  at  once  that  Mother  was  wearing 
her  Forbearing  Expression.  She  ex- 
plained that  I  had  ruined  a  block  of 
four  commemorative  stamps  that  she 
had  secured  after  having  written  to 
half  a  dozen  stamp  dealers.  Nowadays, 
nobody  uses  a  stamp  in  our  house  with- 
out first  getting  an  okay  from  Mother. 

My  mother  also  collects  buttons.  I 
don't  know  much  about  such  things, 
but  from  attending  antique  shows  with 
Mother,  I  assume  that  her  collection 
is  a  good  one.  I  had  my  troubles  with 
that  hobby,  too.  When  I  was  a  little 
younger  I  decided,  one  rainy  Sunday, 
that  I  didn't  like  the  buttons  on  one  of 
my  sweaters. 

I  went  to  Mother's  Unsorted  Button 
Box  and  finally  matched  a  pretty  set 
of  six  very  fancy  buttons.  I  had  been 
wearing  the  sweater  with  its  improved 
trimming  for  nearly  a  week  when 
Mother  suddenly  noticed  my  handi- 
work. 

I  will  omit  the  next  scene,  the  pain 
of  which  will  be  apparent  when  I  ex- 
plain that  I  had  used  the  buttons  once 
sewed  on  an  evening  cape  belonging 
to  the  Empress  Eugenie.  They  were 
priceless  antiques. 

Sometimes  we  think  Mother's  mother 


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must  have  been  frightened  by  a  T- 
square  because  Mother  had  a  perfect 
mania  for  building  picture  frames.  She 
frames  everything  having  the  slightest 
pictorial  or  historical  value.  First  she 
mats  the  object  on  a  square  of  wall- 
paper which  matches  the  color  scheme 
in  the  room  in  which  Mother  plans  to 
hang  the  completed  artwork.  Then  she 
frames  the  affair  in  a  size  to  match 
other  pictures.  Of  course  this  addition 
to  her  collection  makes  it  necessary 
for  her  to  rearrange  the  display  which 
has  been  accumulating  over  the  years. 
"The  poor  woman's  Louvre,"  Daddy 
calls  our  living  room. 

As  if  all  these  interests  weren't 
enough  to  keep  one  woman  busy, 
Mother  still  manages  to  find  time  to 
study  child  psychology.  Originally  this 
was  done  for  the  benefit  of  Susy  and 
me,  but  later  Mother's  eagerness  to 
be  of  help  to  others  caused  her  to  ex- 
tend her  field. 

Hundreds  of  Blondie  program-listen- 
ers write  to  Mother  each  week,  saying 
that  some  incident  in  the  Blondie  show 
coincides  with  a  life  problem  of  their 
own.  They  want  Blondie  to  tell  them 
how  she,  as  a  person  and  not  merely 
as  the  actress  on  the  program,  would 
unravel  such  a  tangle. 

Mother,  pen  firmly  gripped  in  one 
hand  and  psychology  book  in  the  other, 
does  her  best  to  be  helpful. 

Sometimes  I  suggest  (very  tactfully, 
of  course)  that  she  turn  the  full  force 
of  psychology  loose  on  my  younger 
sister,  Susy.  It's  perfectly  true  that  I 
am  the  person  who  wanted  Susy  in  the 
first  place.  I  kept  suggesting,  for  years, 
that  we  have  a  little  sister,  and  I  still 
think  it  is  a  good  idea  with  certain  ex- 
ceptions. I  wish  some  psychologist 
would  think  up  a  way  to  keep  a  little 
sister  from  using  all  of  her  big  sister's 
cologne.  She  even  emptied  one  bottle 
of  scent  on  our  cat  to  make  him  glam- 
orous. Personally,  I  suspect  that  it 
ruined  his  standing  with  other  cats. 

Also,  I  am  opposed  to  Susy's  borrow- 
ing my  hand  mirror  and  never  return- 
ing it;  borrowing  my  shoes  to  play 
"Lady";  borrowing  my  sweaters  and 
skirts  for  the  same  game.  And  then 
leaving  my  clothing  in  a  heap  on  my 
bedroom  floor. 

When  the  pressure  gets  too  great, 
Mother  and  Susy  and  I  sit  down  for 
one  of  our  meetings. 

Once  in  awhile  one  of  my  girl  friends 
asks  how  it  feels  to  be  the  daughter 
of  a  famous  woman.  At  first  this  made 
me  smile.  I  have  always  thought  of 
a  famous  woman  as  someone  distant 
and  royal,  like  Madame  Chiang  Kai- 
Shek,  not  someone  sweet,  laughing  and 
gay  like  my  own  mother. 

But  I  must  admit  that  it  is  convenient 
for  me  to  have  a  mother  who  is  work- 
ing in  radio  and  motion  pictures.  When 
I  wanted  autographed  pictures  of  Cor- 
nel Wilde  and  Randolph  Scott,  she  got 
them  for  me — zing — just  like  that. 

Aside  from  these  things,  though, 
Mother  is  just  like  the  mothers  of  my 
girl  friends.  She  does  her  own  market- 
ing, loading  half  the  neighborhood  into 
her  station  wagon  when  she  is  going  to 
the  shops.  She  attends  parties  but  once 
in  awhile.  Usually  she  has  turned  out 
her  light  by  eight  or  nine  o'clock  each 
night  because  Susy  and  I  have  to  go  to 
bed  early  to  be  fresh  for  school  the 
next  morning,  and  Daddy  has  to  get 
up  at  six  in  order  to  be  at  the  studio 
on  time. 

We  are  an  ordinary  American  family: 
fond  of  one  another  and  proud  of  our 
home.  We  work  hard,  play  just  enough, 
and  have  plenty  to  laugh  about. 


HOW  TO  l&WtyftmrfM^  COMPLETELY 


I  APPLY  FITCH  directly  from  bottle 
■  onto  the  hair  and  scalp  before  any 
water  is  added.  Massage  well  with 
hands,  making  sure  shampoo  reaches 
each  part  of  the  scalp. 


2  ADD  WATER  gradually,  continuing 
to  massage.  Remove  the  cleansing 
lather.  Then  continue  to  add  water  and 
massage  until  no  more  lather  forms. 


Q  RINSE  THOROUGHLY.  Fitch  Dan- 
**  druff  Remover  Shampoo  washes  out 
quickly  in  plain  water.  No  special  after- 
rinse  is  needed.  Set  the  hair  and  dry. 


A    FINISHED  HAIRSTYLE  is  soft,  lovely 
"    and   sparkling   with   natural   high- 
lights. Hair  is  free  of  all  dandruff  and 
easy  to  manage. 


Fitch  Dandruff  Remover  Shampoo  Removes  All 
Dandruff  .  .  .  both  the  loose,  flaky  kind  other  people 
see,  and  the  invisible,  irritating  kind  you  feel.  It's  the 
only  shampoo  made  with  insurance  company  guarantee 
to  remove  dandruff  on  the  first  application.  Enjoy  spar- 
kling hair  that's  free  of  dandruff.  Have  professional ' 
applications  or  buy  economical  Fitch  at  drug  counters. 

FOR  THE  MEN  in  your  family,  gel  Filch  Ideal  Hair  Tonic.  It  loosens 
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Grand  Central  Station 

(Continued  from  page  25) 


cultivated  by  Horrell.  No  script  "un- 
available" for  the  program  ever  goes 
back  to  a  writer  accompanied  only  by 
a  printed  form  rejection  slip.  Horrell 
returns  the  script  with  a  helpful  letter 
of  analysis  and  encouragement,  some- 
times suggesting  changes,  which,  when 
made,  enable  the  writer  to  sell  the  play 
to  some  other  program. 

To  a  great  many  radio  listeners  the 
introductory  format  of  the  program 
is  one  of  the  most  pleasing  and  haunt- 
ing arrangements  of  sound  on  the  air. 
This  did  not  come  about  by  accident. 
Ten  years  ago  when  Horrell  was  plan- 
ning the  program  he  was  undecided 
between  a  great  railroad  station  and 
a  metropolitan  airport  as  a  point  of 
arrival  and  departure  for  his  charac- 
ters. It  was  the  greater  appeal  of  the 
railroad  sound  effects  that  led  him  to 
choose  the  name  Grand  Central  Station 
after  listening  to  all  available  record- 
ings of  airport  and  aviation  sounds.  The 
railroad  sound  effects,  he  decided,  were 
more  evocative  and  of  greater  variety. 

Horrell  spent  two  weeks  arriving  at 
the  exact  opening  that  would  establish 
the  mood  he  desired.  The  spoken  words 
of  the  narrator  had  to  match  the  sound 
effects  to  create  a  feeling  of  excitement 
and  anticipation;  the  words  must  follow 
a  definite  rhythmic  pattern.  Poetic  li- 
cense was  taken  in  the  use  of  the  sound 
effects,  which  Horrell  is  the  first  to  ad- 
mit are  not  technically  correct.  Actu- 
ally, electric  engines  bring  all  trains 
into  Grand  Central,  but  they  do  not 
have  the  aliveness  for  radio  of  a  breath- 
ing, roaring  locomotive.  Then,  too,  most 
of  the  towns  across  the  country  are 
more  familiar  with  the  steam  engines. 
However,  so  many  listeners  wrote  in 
calling  attention  to  the  inaccuracy  that 
Horrell  composed  a  form  letter  explain- 
ing why  he  used  steam  engine  sound 
effects  instead  of  the  efficient  and  un- 
dramatic  hum  of  the  electric. 

A  railroad  bigwig  wrote  a  letter  in- 
quiring why,  if  Horrell  was  going  to 
use  the  Grand  Central  name,  the  cur- 
rent designation,  Grand  Central  Term- 
inal, was  not  employed.  There's  a  rea- 
son: practically  any  spot  survey  would 
show  that  four  out  of  five  New  Yorkers 
and  visitors  to  the  metropolis  always 
refer  to  the  giant  depot  as  Grand  Cen- 
tral Station. 

The  letters  that  give  Horrell  the 
greatest  pleasure  are  the  ones  contained 
in  an  ever-expanding  file  marked  "Con- 


tented Authors."  He  takes  great  pains 
with    authors    new    to    radio    writing. 

Horrell  begins  his  week's  work  on 
Sunday,  hunting  for  a  script.  He's  al- 
ways well  ahead  on  this  part  of  his 
labors,  since  the  program  is  usually 
scheduled  three  to  four  weeks  in  ad- 
vance, but  to  stay  that  way  he  must 
read  30  or  40  plays  a  week.  The  scripts 
Horrell  likes  are  read  in  turn  by  his 
wife,  Dorothy,  and  director  Ira  Ashley. 
The  script  that  is  finally  selected  is 
processed  through  Horrell's  typewriter 
for  rewriting  in  order  to  preserve  the 
style  he  believes  important  to  the  show. 
Set  with  a  script,  the  fine  machinery 
of  the  Horrell  production  method  be- 
gins to  whirr  and  hum  toward  the 
weekly  goal  of  perfection. 

The  producer  discusses  sound  effects 
with  Ashley,  who  has  been  directing 
the  show  for  six  seasons,  and  together 
they  plot  the  all-important  "scenery" 
of  sound.  GCS  employs  the  talents  of 
one  of  radio's  top  sound-effect  teams, 
Jim  Rogan  and  Francis  Mellow.  Noth- 
ing makes  these  boys  happier  than  a 
script  calling  for  a  tricky  sound.  If  they 
haven't  got  the  effect  called  for,  they 
will  invent  it. 

Next  step  in  "dressing  the  stage" 
with  sound  is  the  musical  background 
provided  by  organist  Lew  White,  a 
gifted  musician.  Horrell  listens  to  a 
play-through  of  musical  interludes  im- 
provised by  White  to  heighten  the  mood 
or  underline  the  plot  twist  of  the  drama. 
As  Horrell  nods  approval  of  a  passage 
or  a  chord,  White  jots  it  down  on  a 
roughly  drawn  staff  on  his  copy  of  the 
script.  Unlike  most,  incidental  music 
in  radio  drama,  Grand  Central  Station's 
moods  are  more  often  expressed  in  the 
terms  of  opera  rather  than  the  sym- 
phony, the  result  no  doubt  of  Dorothy 
Horrell's  experience  as  a  singer  in 
grand  opera  in  Europe  and  here. 

On  Friday,  the  day  before  the  broad- 
cast, Horrell  has  a  read-through  in  the 
studio  with  the  actors,  always  a  group 
of  top  Broadway  performers.  To  bring 
the  best  stage  talent  to  the  air,  the 
Horrells  attend  every  theatrical  pro- 
duction on  Broadway  during  the  year. 
He  has  consistently  refused  to  set  up  a 
stock  company  of  radio  actors,  prefer- 
ring the  use  of  different  voices  each 
week  and  actors  with  a  fresh  approach 
to  the  show.  Many  theatrical  lumin- 
aries have  made  their  first  radio  ap- 
pearances on  the  Horrell  program.    A 


GREAT  DAY 


in 


the 


evening 


! 


Listen  to  Dennis  Day,  the  brightest  star  in 
radio,  on  "A  Day  In  The  Life  Of  Dennis 
Day"  every  Saturday  night  (10  p.m.  EST) 
over  NBC  stations.  The  handsome  young 
Irishman  sings,  clowns,  mimics  his  way 
through  a  half  hour  of  uproarious  enter- 
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Read  "My  True  Romance"  by  Dennis  Day  in  the  breath- 
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notable  GCS  first  this  year  was  the 
American  radio  debut  of  Frances  Rowe, 
charming  and  talented  English  star  ap- 
pearing on  Broadway  with  Maurice 
Evans  in  the  Theater  Guild  Produc- 
tion of  "Man  and  Superman." 

Final  rehearsal  begins  Saturday 
morning,  three  and  a  half  hours  before 
broadcast  time.  As  the  actors  go 
through  their  paces,  Horrell  revises, 
cuts,  and  polishes  the  script  right  up 
to  the  last  minute.  A  half-hour 
lunch  period  and  then  everybody  is 
back  to  the  studio  for  the  1  P.  M. 
broadcast. 

If  Martin  Horrell's  own  career  were 
dramatized  in  the  form  of  a  radio  script 
Producer  Horrell  most  probably  would 
reject  it  (with,  of  course,  an  accom- 
panying note  of  kindly  and  helpful  ex- 
planation) as  being  too  unreal  accord- 
ing to  GCS  standards.  His  story  does 
sound  like  streamlined  Horatio  Alger. 
His  father  lost  his  money  when  his 
business  suffered  complete  collapse 
during  Martin's  first  year  at  the  Uni- 
versity of  Chicago.  The  young  student 
wanted  to  quit  college  and  go  to  work 
to  help  out  with  the  family  finances, 
but  his  father  prevailed  upon  him  to 
continue  his  education  come  what  may. 
He  did  so,  paying  his  way  by  campus 
reporting  for  the  Chicago  Tribune, 
dancing  in  vaudeville  and  nightclubs, 
acting  at  Essanay  movie  studios,  and 
modeling.  Despite  his  extracurricular 
activities  he  made  Phi  Beta  Kappa. 

THE  EAGER  young  graduate  took  a  job 
with  a  brokerage  firm  but,  after  two 
dizzy  days  in  Chicago's  grain  pit,  de- 
cided that  advertising  was  much  nearer 
what  he  wanted.  He  began  his  career 
with  a  Chicago  advertising  agency  at 
the  handsome  salary  of  $75  per  month. 
Somehow  he  had  also  managed  to  find 
time  to  contribute  successfully  to  var- 
ious national  magazines,  which,  natur- 
ally enough  for  Horrell,  led  to  his  find- 
ing time  to  conduct  a  course  in  short 
story  writing  at  the  University  of  Chi- 
cago. 

His  career  was  halted  for  a  time  by 
his  enlistment  in  the  U.  S.  Navy's  avi- 
ation program  in  1917.  After  getting 
his  commission  as  ensign,  Horrell  flew 
the  big  twin  Liberty  engine  H-16. 

After  his  return  from  the  service 
Horrell  joined  a  well  known  producer 
of  electrical  appliances,  as  advertising 
manager.  Liking  to  work  with  his  hands 
and  tools,  he  tinkered  about  and  ex- 
perimented until  he  had  invented  nine 
gadgets.  By  the  time  he  was  24, 
Horrell  was  assistant  to  the  President 
and  General  Manager,  Boy  Wonder  of 
the  manufacturing  world. 

New  horizons  beckoned  and  Horrell 
moved  eastward  to  New  York — perhaps 
"drawn  by  the  magnetic  force  of  the 
fantastic  metropolis,"  as  the  prologue 
to  Grand  Central  Station  dramas  has 
it.  In  1928  he  joined  a  New  York  ad- 
vertising agency  as  executive  vice  pres- 
ident. Horrell  took  on  radio  production 
in  addition  to  his  regular  agency  duties. 
Soon  radio  was  taking  practically  all  of 
his  time. 

It  was  while  putting  together  big, 
lush  "name"  shows  that  he  first  thought 
of  producing  a  dramatic  radio  program 
that  would  emphasize  story  quality  and 
polished  production  rather  than  orches- 
tral fanfare  and  high  cost.  A  program 
that,  like  a  magazine,  offered  many 
different  stories.  Long  planning  and 
tireless  experimentation  resulted  in  the 
successful  launching  of  Grand  Central 
Station — "crossroads  of  a  million  pri- 
vate lives — gigantic  stage  on  which  are 
played  a  thousand  dramas!" 


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{Continued  from  page  51) 

her  home — to  take  part  in  an  Antique 
Automobile  Day.  She  was  one  of 
hundreds  of  persons — all  in  goggles, 
dusters  and  high  button  shoes — who 
were  chugging  along  our  sleek  high- 
ways in  cars  which  were  at  least 
25  years  old.  All  were  collectors,  com- 
ing from  everywhere  to  exhibit  their 
Franklins,  Autocars,  Stutzes  and  Model 
Ts.  And  the  shiny  new  Fords  and 
Studebakers  on  the  road  could  just 
wait  while  their  distinguished  elders 
made  their  stately,  20-mile-per-hour 
way. 

It  was  a  pretty  picture,  like  some- 
thing out  of  a  movie,  but  what  would 
the  nice,  trim  school  teacher  do  if  a 
magneto  gave  up  or  a  carburetor 
showed  signs  of  senility? 

"Very  simple,"  snapped  the  Latin  and 
French  instructor.  "I  roll  up  my  sleeves 
and  take  the  motor  apart.  And  I  don't 
mind  getting  grease  under  my  finger- 
nails." 

THINKING  for  a  fleeting  moment  of 
Isome  Latin  teachers  I  had  known — 
grim  gentlemen  who  thought  that  the 
slickest  thing  on  wheels  still  was  Ben 
Hur's  chariot — and  wondering  how  our 
traveler  ever  got  involved  with  a  crank 
case,  I  asked  Miss  Witman  how  she 
had  stumbled  on  her  hobby. 

One  winter,  she  told  me,  she  had 
been  ill.  Too  much  concentrating  on 
teaching,  the  Doctor  had  said.  "Get  a 
hobby,  Miss  Witman.    Learn  to  relax." 

Her  father  runs  an  auto  painting  and 
repair  shop.  One  day,  on  an  errand 
for  him,  she  happened  into  the  used  car 
lot  of  Lawrence  Stilwell,  a  cheery, 
friendly  gentleman.  While  there,  she 
noticed  a  number  of  antique  cars  which, 
it  developed,  were  Stilwell's  pet  inter- 
est. He  was  in  the  process  of  restoring 
a  beat-up  old  sedan  dating  back  to  1910 
and  muttered  something  about  slip- 
covers. 

"I'm  a  pretty  good  seamstress.  I 
make  most  of  my  own  clothes.  Maybe 
I  could  do  the  slip-covers  for  you,"  Miss 
Witman  volunteered. 

Stilwell  was  a  little  surprised  that 
the  young  woman  would  ever  get  into 
the  dusty  antique,  but  he  told  her  to  go 
ahead.  She  made  the  slip-covers — and 
good  ones.  Then  she  made  some  more. 
Then  she  started  looking  under  the 
hoods  of  the  old  cars.  Then  she  reached 
for  a  wrench.  Then  she  was  taking 
motors  apart.  And  then,  with  a  smear 
of  grease  on  her  cheek  and  a  sparkle 
in  her  brown  eyes,  she  was  filling  that 
doctor's   prescription. 

"I  just  seemed  to  fall  right  into  it," 
she  recalled.  "I  got  to  the  point  where 
I  was  hanging  around  the  shop  during 
every  spare  moment.  It  was  a  thrill 
to  watch  an  old  car  glow  again,  and 
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to  pick  up  one  antiquated  Model  T.  As 
is  usually  the  case,  she  and  Stilwell 
rode  in  a  tow  truck.  After  he  bought 
the  car,  Miss  Witman  drove  the  tow 
truck  and  Stilwell  rode  in  his  new  pos- 
session— which  still  needed  a  motor  job. 
As  she  recalls: 

"We  were  just  using  a  rope  for  the 
towing.  On  a  hill,  I  swerved  too  sud- 
denly, and  Mr.  Stilwell  and  the  Model 
T  went  into  a  telephone  pole.  The  car's 
fender  was  pretty  badly  mashed.  Mr. 
Stilwell  was  so  mad  at  me  for  driving 
badly  that  he  told  me  to  get  right  out 
and  fix  the  fender." 

Sometimes,  the  young  career  woman's 
two  worlds  collide — and  with  a  bang. 
For  a  while,  she  was  an  official  of  an 
organization  of  business  and  profes- 
sional women's  clubs — an  important 
job.  One  day,  a  delegation  of  profes- 
sional women  came  seeking  her,  and 
were  told  that  they  would  find  her  at 
the  garage.  Immaculately  dressed, 
the  ladies  entered  gingerly.  From  be- 
neath the  venerable  floorboard  of  a 
1906  Franklin  they  heard  some  ham- 
mering. 

"Young  man,"  one  called  out,  "could 
you  tell  me  if  Miss  Ruth  Witman  is  ex- 
pected here?" 

The  business  and  professional  ladies 
were  most  atwitter  when  Miss  Witman 
slid  out  from  under  the  chassis,  wiped 
her  hands  and  got  down  to  business. 


THEN,  there  was  the  time  she  was 
driving  a  1907  Autocar  to  Buffalo. 
About  150  miles  away  from  that  city, 
the  Autocar  became  neither  an  auto 
nor  a  car.  It  just  wouldn't  run,  and 
even  the  talented  lady  mechanic  was 
stymied.  The  problem,  however,  had 
an  obvious  solution.  She  bided  her 
time  until  a  huge  car  carrier — one  of 
those  enormous  trucks  that  transport  a 
number  of  new  cars — rolled  by.  When 
she  saw  one  with  some  empty  space, 
she  simply  thumbed  a  ride  into  Buffalo 
for  herself  and  her  Autocar. 

"You  see,"  she  said  seriously,  "I  had 
never  really  known  a  truck  driver  be- 
fore. As  we  rode  along,  we  talked  of 
many  things,  and  I  learned  about  his 
world.  It's  the  same  with  all  of  the 
people  whom  I  meet  on  the  road 
through  my  hobby.  I  try  to  bring  some 
of  that  knowledge  into  my  teaching. 
I  hope  that  it  makes  me  a  better 
teacher." 

I  have  a  feeling  that  Miss  Witman  is 
a  pretty  good  teacher  already.  Some- 
where between  teaching  her  classes, 
working  on  the  cars  and  leading  the 
Sunday  School  group,  she  had  time  to 
supervise  her  school  newspaper.  Speak- 
ing of  her  would-be  journalists,  she 
said: 

"Some  of  my  boys  and  girls  want  to 
be  newspapermen.  They  want  to 
travel  around  to  strange  places,  to  meet 
all  sorts  of  people.  Sometimes  they 
can't  express  those  yearnings  very  well, 
but  I  know  what  they  mean.  You  see, 
I  like  the  same  things,  and  I  get  them 
from  my  adventures  with  the  cars." 

I  wondered  if  her  facility  with 
French  or  Latin  ever  helped  on  the 
old  car  hunts. 

"Latin,"  she  said  with  a  smile,  "is 
even  older  than  an  old  car,  but  French 
comes  in  handy.  For  instance,  one  of 
our  relics  is  a  French  make,  an  Albion 
Voisin.  We  always  like  to  have  all 
parts  on  a  car  conform  to  the  original, 
and  I've  been  writing  letters  all  over 
France  trying  to  get  tires  that  go  with 
that  year  and  model.  Maybe  I'll  have 
to  go  to  France  to  get  them." 

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old  tires!  Quite  a  picture,  isn't  it?  But 
then,  Miss  Witman  has  invaded  many 
a  chateau  to  find  the  exact  headlight 
lens  for  a  Stutz,  and  shuffled  through 
many  a  dumping  ground  to  match  up 
the  fenders  on  a  Locomobile. 

"People  have  strange  reactions  when 
you  come  calling  to  ask  about  Grand- 
pa's old  car,  which  still  sits  in  the 
barn.  They  think  they  have  a  rare 
old  model,  worth  thousands  of  dollars. 
And  they  act  as  though  I'm  a  city 
slicker,  carrying  out  a  swindle.  Actual- 
ly, it  is  practically  valueless,  until  some 
one  spends  much  money  to  restore  it." 
Usually,  on  Welcome  Travelers,  we 
ask  our  guests  to  try  to  analyze  their 
own  experiences,  or  travel  stories,  and 
share  with  our  listeners  the  lessons 
they  have  learned.  I  asked  Miss  Wit- 
man  what  those  old  cars  meant  to  her. 
"Well,"  she  asked,  "have  you  ever 
come  into  a  home  that  hadn't  been 
lived  in  for  a  long  time,  and  seen  a  doll 
lying  in  the  dust?  Didn't  you  wonder 
about  the  little  girl,  long  ago,  who 
played  with  that  doll?  Didn't  it  seem 
right  to  pick  up  that  doll,  and  dust  it  off, 
the  way  the  little  girl  would  have  done? 
In  a  funny  sort  of  way,  it's  the  same 
with  old  cars." 

I  saw  what  she  meant.  Each  of  the 
antique  autos  had  a  story  of  its  own. 
The  proud  family  which  first  drove  it, 
on  bright  Sundays,  over  the  dirt  roads. 
The  kids  with  their  special  seats  in 
back.  Junior  borrowing  it  on  Saturday 
night  to  spark  the  girl  next  door.  Dig 
down  deep  under  the  seat  and  maybe 
you'll  still  find  a  grain  of  rice  from 
their  wedding.  And  later,  times  are 
bad,  and  the  car  is  sold.  Then,  for 
someone  else,  the  story  begins  all  over, 
and  another  family  pattern  is  acted  out 
in  the  same  car. 

Yes,  it  was  quite  a  thought.  And  I 
could  understand  how  Miss  Witman  felt 
when  she  helped  Stilwell  take  in  an 
old  junk,  then  repair  and  polish  and 
rub  until,  days  later,  there  emerged 
again  The  Car.  Though  its  past  owners 
might  spread  around  the  globe,  it  was 
nice  to  think  that  the  car  which  had 
been  so  important  to  them  at  one  time 
was  again  getting  good  treatment,  and 
was  again  rolling  along  the  road. 

The  next  morning,  on  my  way  to  the 
Welcome  Travelers  broadcast,  I  saw 
Miss  Ruth  Witman,  in  her  1914  Over- 
land, riding  toward  the  Milwaukee 
highway  on  Chicago's  La  Salle  St.  She 
had  on  her  goggles  and  her  duster,  and 
the  car  was  chugging  along  at  about 
eighteen  miles  an  hour. 

"Watch  out,  lady,"  the  driver  of  a 
sleek  new  model  called  out.  "You 
might  get  a  flat  tire." 

Miss  Witman  smiled  sweetly  at  the 
heckler  and  never,  it  seemed  to  me,  had 
I  seen  a  damsel  less  likely  to  find  her- 
self in  distress. 


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Elizabeth  Church  was  an 
American  girl  working  for  the 
Army  in  Tokyo  when  she  met 
socially  prominent  Frederick 
Ebersole  and  married  him  midst 
weird  music  and  burning  incense 
in  the  ancient  love  rituals  of  the 
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Wife  Slays  Diabolical  Husband 
"My  23  Years  of  Terror" 

by  Stella  Hutchison 
Victory  Over  Self-Destruction 
"I  Was  Insane" 

by  Jeanette  Larson 
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Dagwood's 
House  of  Happiness 

(Continued  from  page  43) 

estate  broker  told  me  the  place  was  the 
old  Pickering  estate  and  he  read  off 
some  figures:  twenty-two  rooms,  eight 
baths.  (Oh,  boy!)  4V2  acres.  (Goodie!) 
Tennis  court,  sunken  gardens,  but  no 
pool.  (So,  okay,  the  kids  are  too  young 
yet.)  And  here  was  an  unusual  item:  a 
fifty  thousand  dollar  pipe  organ.  The 
original  owner  had  fancied  organ  music 
and  had  built  the  whole  house  around 
the  thing.  (I  didn't  have  any  particular 
use  for  a  pipe  organ,  but  a  man  can 
take  up  a  new  hobby  can't  he?) 

I  asked  if  the  house  was  for  sale.  The 
broker  didn't  know,  but  he  assumed  so 
— nobody  had  lived  in  the  place  for 
more  than  ten  years.    He  would  see. 

I  went  home  to  report  progress  and 
Pat  thought  I  was  out  of  my  silly  mind. 

But  when  the  real  estate  fellow  called 
back  to  say  that  the  house  was  available 
and  told  me  the  price,  I  had  my  inning. 

For  all  that  housing  it  was  ridicu- 
lously cheap.  The  pipe  organ  alone  was 
worth  that  much.  They  were  giving  it 
away. 

"Ummmh,"  said  Pat.  Prove  it,  that 
meant. 

WE  WENT  to  look,  and  I  admit  the 
whole  thing  was  pretty  overwhelm- 
ing. Those  vast  rooms — empty — echoed 
like  a  cave.  Crystal  chandeliers,  Byzan- 
tine carved  walls  and  ceilings,  not  real- 
ly for  Dagwood. 

And  the  organ.  It  was  a  monster,  and 
sure  enough  the  music  came  back  at 
you  from  concealed  pipes  all  over  the 
house. 

"I  love  it,"  I  yelled.  I  had  just  found 
the  xylophone  pedal. 

"If  we  sold  it,"  Pat  calmed  me  down, 
"we  might  just  be  able  to  afford  the 
house." 

Gosh,  the  organ  was  half  the  fun. 
But  Pat  was  right.  Then  I  had  a  prac- 
tical question. 

"Who,  these  days,  is  in  the  market  for 
a  fifty  thousand  dollar  pipe  organ?" 

Pat  found  somebody.  She  would! 
She  got  in  touch  with  the  man  who  in- 
stalled the  instrument  in  the  first  place, 
and  he  said  sure  it  was  the  best  organ 
west  of  the  Rockies  and  he  knew  a 
church  which  would  love  to  have  it. 

So  we  took  the  plunge.  Plunked  down 
a  down  payment,  went  into  escrow  and 
began  to  have  nightmares  about  fur- 
nishing the  place. 

Before  we  moved  in,  the  pipe  organ 
was  carted  away.  It  was  a  very  sad 
day  for  me.  The  thing  had  more  voices 
than  Edgar  Bergen;  bass  drums,  xylo- 
phone, something  as  sweet  as  Evelyn's 
magic  violin.  It  would  have  been  fun 
to  keep  it.  But  it  had  to  go — five  van 
loads  of  it  had  to  go. 

We  hired  a  crew  of  a  dozen  strong 
guys  to  clean  out  ten  years  accumula- 
tion of  devil-grass  and  cobwebs.  And 
then  we  marched  in — into  the  vast  and 
empty  spaces.  The  stuff  from  our  other 
house  just  about  furnished  the — pardon 
me — master  suite,  and  another  second 
floor  suite  of  three  bedrooms  and  two 
baths  which  we  turned  over  to  the  kids 
and  their  nurse. 

We  fixed  up  a  whole  wing  very  com- 
fortably for  Pat's  dad,  and  with  the 
rest — brother,  we're  taking  our  time. 
We  have  carpets  now — several  thousand 
yards  I  guess — and  already  christened 
with  spilled  orange  juice  and  careless 
bull  dog.  (Hedy,  our  white  Peke,  re- 
fuses to  share  the  blame.)      We  have 


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am? 


I'LL  SAY! 


. . .  and  Mommie  says  Nestle  Baby  Hair 
Treatment  deserves  all  the  credit!" 

Mothers— here's  your  chance  to  help  give  your 
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some  drapes  and  a  few  big  hunks  of 
stuff  to  sit  on,  but  the  echo  is  still  pretty 
frightening. 

At  first  we  tried  to  live  all  over  the 
house,  but  after  a  week  we  were  all- 
exhausted  and  retired  to  our  various 
little  homes  within  the  home  to  rest. 

After  we  had  shaken  down  in  the 
house  for  a  few  weeks,  Pat  and  I  began 
itching  for  a  party.  I  think  we  wanted 
to  see  the  astonishment  on  our  friends' 
faces  as  much  as  anything  else. 

We  set  a  date  and  invited  everybody 
in  town  to  our  housewarming. 

EVERYTHING  happened. 
The  first   guest  who   arrived  drove 
over  one  of  the  lawn  sprinklers,  crack- 
ing off  the  head  of  it,  and  a  fifty-foot 
geyser  shot  into  the  air. 

I  looked  all  over  the  house  and 
couldn't  find  the  water  shut-off.  This 
took  about  an  hour,  by  which  time  most 
everybody  had  come — so  drenched 
when  they  reached  shelter  that  they 
were  too  concerned  with  messed  hair- 
dos and  unpressed  pants  to  be  amazed 
at  our  magnificence. 

Pat  was  trying  to  be  host  and  hostess, 
water  mopper  upper  and  long  distance 
runner  all  at  once,  and  she  was  getting 
a  little  tired.  I  called  the  Santa  Monica 
Water  Company.  They  said  the  house 
was  in  West  Los  Angeles.  I  called  the 
West  Los  Angeles  Water  Company. 
They  said  the  house  was  in  Santa 
Monica.  They  were  no  fools.  I  called 
the  plumber. 

By  the  time  I  got  back  to  the  party, 
the  geyser  had  really  got  in  its  licks. 
The  roof  was  leaking.  Right  through  our 
splendiferous  crystal  chandelier. 

Well,  we  never  did  have  the  barbe- 
cue. By  the  time  the  plumber  had  found 
the  shut-off  and  turned  off  the  show 
the  lawn  was  soaked.  It  was  too  late, 
and  too  dark,  and  too  cold. 

So  we  made  up  a  sort  of  bucket 
brigade — the  folks  were  feeling  a  little 
more  cheerful  by  this  time — and  par- 
layed the  food  all  the  way  back  to  the 
kitchen,  cooked  it,  toted  it  back  to  the 
living  room,  and  by  golly,  we  ate  it! 

Everybody  warned  me  that  night 
that  I  should  keep  our  haunted  house  a 
secret.  If  the  "Blondie"  customers 
found  out  that  Dagwood  was  living  in  a 
sort  of  combination  Manderley  and 
Grand  Hotel,  they  would  be  up  in  arms. 

That  made  me  sore. 

I  reminded  them  that  though  I've 
been  playing  Dagwood  since  "Harold 
Teen" — that's  eleven  long  and  lovely 
years — there's  more. 

Last  year  I  started  branching  out, 
and  produced  a  film  called  "Sixteen 
Fathoms  Deep."  The  reviewers  have 
been  pretty  friendly,  especially  one  who 
was  in  the  Thalians  with  me  in  high 
school.  It  had  better  be  good,  as  my 
cynical  friends  reminded  me  at  the 
house  warming,  with  "Arthur  Lake 
Productions"  right  out  in  front  like  that. 

Maybe  I  should  have  called  my  com- 
pany Warner  Brothers.  Because  in 
our  coming  production  the  Lakes  are 
really  standing  up  and  waiting  to  be 
shot  at.  There  is  a  fine  comedy  part 
in  it  which  fits  nobody  but  Pat — so  she's 
going  to  play  it.  And  Shorty,  that's  our 
son  Arthur  Patrick,  has  a  nice  fat  part, 
too.  Marian  Rose  is  busily  taking  ballet 
lessons,  so  I  suppose  I  will  have  to  put 
in  a  part  for  a  small,  round  dancer,  too. 

We  will  either  be  able  to  afford  our 
haunted  house  after  that,,  or  we  will 
build  barricades  around  it  and  retire 
behind  the  walls  until  the  whole  thing 
has  blown  over. 

It'll  be  a  fine  house  one  of  these  days, 
after  we  get  the  hang  of  it. 


44 1  LOVED 


HUSBAND 


99 


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The  Light  in  the 
Window 

(Continued  from  page   65) 

do  you  mean?" 

He  shook  his  head,  sorry  he'd  gone 
this  far.  "I  can't  tell  you.  I'd  never 
have  mentioned  it  except  that — " 

"Except  you  wanted  to  straighten  me 
out?" 

"I  suppose  so.  And  I'm  the  last  per- 
son to  do  that — " 

He  saw  the  concern  in  her  eyes,  and 
he  knew  that  he'd  won.  She  would  stay 
now — for  the  very  reason  he  didn't  want. 
Because   she   was   worried   about   him. 

"What  happens  to  me  isn't  impor- 
tant," he  said.  "But  you're  young. 
You've  so  much  to  live  for — " 

"That's  what  you  think!"  But  she 
sounded  shaken,  and  he  pressed  his  ad- 
vantage. 

"And,  I'm  being  selfish,  Charlotte,  in 
urging  you  not  to  leave.  I  have  en- 
joyed your  company — " 

"Oh,  Ray — "  She  melted  suddenly; 
her  face  went  slack  like  a  troubled  and 
bewildered  child's.  "I  don't  know  what 
to  do.  I'm  so  mixed  up.  I — I've  got 
to  be  alone  for  a  while — take  a  walk — " 

HE  WENT  back  to  his  room.  From  his 
window  he  saw  her  hurry  down  the 
street;  turn  into  the  Church  of  the 
Good  Samaritan — the  first  time  she'd 
been  in  a  church,  he  wagered,  in  a  good 
many  years.  That  church!  And  the 
parsonage,  and  the  light  that  burned 
eternally  in  the  study  window — Dr. 
Matthews'  friendship  lamp!  Dr. 
Matthews,  Charlotte — both  of  them 
poking  their  noses  into  his  business — 
and  he'd  let  them;  he'd  given  them  both 
reason  to.  He  was  closing  the  trap 
around   himself. 

After  that,  there  was  no  getting  out. 
Charlotte's  concern  was  always  with 
him,  like  a  hand  on  his  pulse.  On  a  hot 
midsummer  evening,  when  he  was  sit- 
ting with  her  and  Eddie  Bingham,  the 
ever-hopeful  little  gambler,  in  the  dusk 
of  the  porch,  she  said  casually,  "I  won- 
der when  Mrs.  Olson's  coming  home? 
Something  funny  happened  today.  A 
cop  came  around,   asking  questions — " 

"A  cop!"   Eddie   exclaimed. 

"You  in  trouble,  Eddie?"  asked  Char- 
lotte. "Yes,  a  cop.  Plain  clothes,  but  I 
know  one  when  I  see  one.  He  was 
looking  for  a  guy  and  I  told  him  he  had 
the  wrong  address.  He  said  no,  he  was 
sure  he  hadn't,  and  then  he  buzzed 
over  to  see  Dr.  Matthews." 

"Who  was  he  looking  for,  Charlotte?" 
Ray   asked. 

"Guy  named  Roger  Barton.  But  no- 
body by  that  name's  been  here  that  I 
know  of.  I  thought  maybe  Mrs.  Olson 
might  know — " 

Ray  hadn't  moved.  His  tone  had 
been  as  casual  as  hers.  But  she  was 
watching  him,  and  now  she  said,  "It's 
nothing  to  you,  Eddie,  and  Ray  and 
I  aren't  going  in  with  you  on  that  third 
race  tomorrow  no  matter  how  long 
you  argue.  Why  don't  you  see  if  you 
can  find  a  couple  of  live  ones  inside?" 

Eddie  rose  resignedly.  "Always  try- 
ing to  get  rid  of  me.  Okay,  I  know 
when   I'm   not   wanted." 

There  was  a  silence.  Then  Charlotte 
remarked,  "You  look  kind  of  funny,  Ray." 

"I  don't  feel  funny."  He  hesitated. 
What  was  the  use?  He  might  have  ex- 
pected something  like  this  .  .  .  and  be- 
sides, she'd  know  sooner  or  later,  any- 
way. 

"I  may  as  well  tell  you,"  he  said.  "I 
knew  they  wouldn't  let  me  alone — they 


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HERE'S  PROOF!  From  original  letters  on  file 

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never  do.  That  man  was  a  parole  offi- 
cer." 

"A —  you  mean  you — " 

"Brandon — Barton,"  said  Ray  harshly. 
"Same  difference.  So  now  you  know 
who's  been  giving  you  advice,  trying 
to  tell  you  how  to  live  your  life.  / 
jail-bird,    an    ex-convict — " 

He  got  up  and  started  inside.  She 
was  beside  him,  holding  to  his  arm. 
"Ray,  wait!  Don't  go!  I  don't  car-3 
what  you've  been — I  don't  even  want 
to  know.  I  think  you're  a  swell  guy. 
I — well,  there's  no  use  trying  to  say  it." 

She  meant  it,  every  word  of  it.  It 
was  in  her  eyes,  her  voice.  She  was 
the  kind  of  woman  who,  if  she  cared 
about  you,  was  with  you  all  the  way, 
through  anything,  no  matter  what  you 
said  or  did.  He  felt  a  softening  within 
him,  a  kind  of  tearing.  If  another 
woman  had  been  like  her.  .  .  .  Then 
her  voice  raced  on,  desperately  anxious. 

"This  thing  you're  waiting  for,  plan- 
ning on — it's  got  something  to  do  with 
it,  your  being  in  jail,  hasn't  it?  Ray, 
I'm   so  worried — " 

"You  shouldn't  be."  He  was  cruel  be- 
cause he  had  to  be.  "It's  not  your  busi- 
ness; it's  mine,  mine  alone,  like  my 
life.  And — don't  try  to  get  mixed  up 
in    it." 


SHE  didn't  mention  the  subject  again. 
She  was  casually  friendly,  as  before, 
even  more  diffident  about  approaching 
him  than  ever.  But  Ray  worried.  A 
parole  officer  now,  and  Charlotte,  and 
Dr.  Matthews,  with  that  light  that  Ray 
had  to  look  at  every  time  he  glanced 
out  his  window.  How  many  more  people 
were  going  to  get  mixed  up  in  this? 

He  fretted  about  it  for  days.  When 
nothing  happened,  he  followed  the 
thin,  persistent  beam  of  the  guiding 
light  down  Newman  Avenue  to  the 
study   of   Dr.    Matthews. 

A  pretty,  fresh-faced  girl  let  him  in. 
"Dr.  Matthews  is  out,"  she  said.  "But 
I  expect  him  back  almost  any  time. 
I'm  Pamela  Hale,  Dr.  Matthews'  niece. 
And  if  you'd  like  to  wait — " 

She  was  leading  him  toward  the 
study.  "There's  someone  else  waiting," 
she  said,  opening  the  door.  "This  is 
Roger  Collins,  Mr.  Brandon." 

Ray  gripped  his  hat  until  his  knuckles 
were  white.  Hang  onto  yourself,  Bran- 
don. .  .  .  Aloud  he  said,  "How  do  you 
do,"   as   if  to  a  stranger. 

Pamela  Hale  left  them,  closing  the 
door  after  her.  The  boy  smiled  at  him, 
very  friendly,  a  little  bit  shy.  "How 
do  you  do,  sir?  It's — it's  nice  here  in 
this  study,  isn't  it?  There's  something 
about   the   place,   that   lamp — " 

"The  Friendship  Lamp,"  said  Ray 
Brandon,   with  no  irony  at   all. 

The  boy  nodded.  "I've  known  Dr. 
Matthews  only  a  few  weeks,  but  I  keep 
coming  around  to  talk  with  him.  To- 
night, though,"  he  added  hurriedly,  "I 
won't  be  long.  I  can  find  out  what  I 
want  to  know  in  just  a  minute  or  two." 

"So  can  I,"  said  Ray  dryly.  "You — 
you  don't  live  around  here?" 

"No — in  Forest  Hills.  But  I  work 
in  this  neighborhood — I'm  one  of  the 
counselors  at  the  Young  People's  Club. 
That  is,   right  now   I  am." 

"Why  do  you  say  that?" 

"It's  kind  of  mixed  up,"  the  boy  said. 
"My  mother  doesn't  think  I  should 
spend  so  much  time  here  in  the  Flats — " 

I  should  think  not,  Ray  thought,  not 
when  I'm  living  here.  "That's  under- 
standable," he  said  aloud.  "There  must 
be  a  Young  People's  Club  in  your  own 
neighborhood — " 

"Oh,  yes — but  not  like  this.  Here 
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These  kids  really  need  a  club.  Be- 
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"I  want  to  be  a  lawyer — I'm  starting 
U.C.L.A.  in  the  fall,  I  hope.  My  mother 
doesn't  like  the  idea,  but  Dad  wants 
me  to.  That  is,  he's  my  step-father, 
but  we  always  see  eye-to-eye.  He  went 
to  U.S.C.,  but  he  understood  when  I 
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because  my  real  dad  went  there.  You 
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swell  guy.  That's  why  I  don't  under- 
stand my  mother.  I  thought  she'd  want 
me  to  go  to  school  where  my  real  dad 
went.  But  she's  been  different  lately. 
Doesn't  want  me  to  work  here  in  the 
Flats — that's  where  Dr.  Matthews  is 
tonight,  with  Mother  and  Dad.  He's 
trying  to  get  them  to  let  me  go  on 
working   here — " 

Ray  didn't  think  he  could  take  any 
more.  Fortunately,  he  didn't  have  to. 
The  boy  stopped,  abashed.  "Gosh,  I 
don't  know  why  I'm  talking  to  you  like 
this.  It  must  be  this  place — it  just  sort 
of  brings  things  out  of  you,  makes  you 
talk.  And  I  don't  think  I'd  better  wait 
any  longer.  Will  you  tell  Dr.  Matthews 
I'll    talk    with    him    tomorrow?" 

Ray  let  him  go — just  in  time,  he 
realized  afterward.  They  shook  hands; 
the  boy  went  out.  A  few  moments  later 
there  was  the  sound  of  a  car  stopping, 
the  sound  of  voices.  Too  late  he  recog- 
nized the  woman's  voice.  They  were 
inside,  and  Julie  was  staring  at  him 
as  if  he  were  a  traitor. 

"Mr.  Brandon,"  said  Dr.  Matthews, 
"this  is  Mr.  Collins.    Where  is  Roger?" 

"He  left  a  few  minutes  ago,"  Ray  an- 
swered,  looking  at  Julie. 

"And  the  two  of  you — "  she  burst 
out.  "I  knew  this  would  happen. 
Frank—" 

"WO  NEED  to  get  upset,  Julie,"  said 
li  Frank.  His  voice  was  deep  and  quiet. 
Ray  liked  him — so  much  that  he  felt 
a  curious  peace  about  his  son,  so  much 
that  he  could  feel  no  jealousy  that  this 
man  had  been  and  would  go  on  being 
father  to  his,  Ray's,  son. 

"That's  right,  Julie,"  he  agreed.  "We 
met  as  strangers.  Two  strangers 
who  happened  to  be  waiting  for  Dr. 
Matthews.      Nothing   more." 

"Why  don't  we  sit  down  and  talk 
this  over?"  Dr.  Matthews  suggested. 
"Mr.  Collins  feels  as  I  do — -that  there's 
no  reason  why  young  Roger  can't  be 
told  the  whole  truth." 

"There's  every  reason!"  Julie  cried 
passionately.  And  Ray  nodded  som- 
berly. "He  stopped  being  my  son  fifteen 
years  ago  when  I  went  to  prison—" 

"For  a  crime  you  didn't  commit," 
Dr.  Matthews  put  in  quickly.  "That's 
true,  isn't  it,  Brandon?" 

"What's  the  difference?"  Ray  asked. 
"Evidently   Julie — " 

She  was  going  to  pieces  before  his 
eyes.  She  was  shaking,  and  her  voice 
skidded  perilously.  "Of  course  I  be- 
lieved you  were  innocent!  You  told  me 
to  forget  you;  you  told  me  to  tell  Roger 
you  were  dead.  What  I've  done,  I've 
done  for  his   sake — " 

Frank  took  her  arm,  nodded  at  Ray 
over  her  head,  gently  led  her  out.  Ray 
and  Dr.  Matthews  were  left  alone.  The 
older  man  moved  to  his  desk,  sat  down, 
motioned  Ray  to  sit  down.  "Somehow, 
Brandon,"  he  said,  "I've  a  feeling  all 
this  is  going  to   work  out — " 

"I  don't  want  it  to,"  said  Ray  rudely. 
"I  want  to  know  just  one  thing — what 
the  parole  officer  wanted  the  other  day." 


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"I  think  you  know  that,"  said  Dr. 
Matthews  slowly.  "He  wanted  to  know 
about  your  future  plans  .  .  .  and  .if  they 
included  a  man  named  McClain.  Mar- 
tin McClain.  He  told  me  that  at  your 
trial  fifteen  years  ago  you  kept  in- 
sisting— " 

"I  told  the  court  the  truth,"  said  Ray 
bluntly.  "It  was  a  deliberate  frame-up 
by  McClain.  He'd  pushed  me  ahead  in 
the  office,  worked  me  into  a  position 
where  I  could  be  accused  of  doctoring 
the  books  . .  .  covering  up  for  his  crime." 

"I  know  about  that,"  said  Dr. 
Matthews.  "And  I  know,  as  you  prob- 
ably do  yourself,  that  McClain  is  ex- 
pected back  in  the  city  before  too  long. 
Then  what?" 

Ray  didn't  answer.  Dr.  Matthews 
spoke  softly.  "The  look  in  your  eyes — 
I've  seen  it  before.  Murder.  But  this 
time  I  don't  believe  it.  I  don't  believe 
you  can  do  it,  not  after  sitting  here 
talking  with  your  son — " 

"Julie's  son — " 

DR.  MATTHEWS  ignored  him.  "I  didn't 
believe  it  before.  That's  why  I  told 
the  parole  officer  that  you  had  a  job 
ahead  of  you,  one  with  a  future  in  a 
law  office.  And  you  have,  if  you  want 
it.  I've  been  in  touch  with  a  law  firm. 
I  didn't  go  out  of  my  way,  you  under- 
stand, but  there's  an  opening.  I  told 
them  a  little  about  you,  and  they  seem 
to  feel  that  they  can  work  out  some 
kind  of  an  arrangement.  Would  you  like 
me  to  make  an  appointment  for  you?" 

"No  thanks." 

"But  you  can't  be  satisfied  with  your 
present  job — " 

"It  serves  my  purpose."  Ray  rose. 
"Thanks,"  he  said  again,  ironically. 
"But  I'm  just  not  interested  in  anything 
you  have  to  offer." 

They  were  closing  in  on  him.  Dr. 
Matthews  with  his  job,  Charlotte  with 
her  devotion,  even  Julie,  who  was  fight- 
ing strangely  to  reach  him  even  as  she 
fought — needlessly — to  keep  him  apart 
from  their  son. 

Julie  came  to  see  him  the  next  day. 
She  was  in  his  room  when  he  came 
home.  Charlotte  was  there,  too,  taking 
down  Mrs.  Olson's  limp,  gray  curtains 
and  hanging  up  a  pair  she'd  started  to 
make  days  ago,  before  he  had  fright- 
ened her  off.  Before  Julie,  she  looked 
stubborn   and   scared. 

"We've  already  met,"  she  told  Ray 
when  he  started  to  introduce  them. 
"And  I — uh — I  guess  I'd  better  be 
going — " 

"Don't  rush  off  on  my  account." 
Julie's  voice  was  coolly  sweet.  Char- 
lotte walked  out  without  another  word, 
and  Julie  turned  to  Ray.  "Roger — 
Ray — I  couldn't  help  being  a  little  sur- 
prised to  find  a  woman  like  that  in  your 
room — " 

"What  do  you  mean — a  woman  like 
that?"  His  voice  was  dangerously  quiet. 
But  Julie  didn't  back  down. 

"I  gathered  you've  been  seeing  a 
good  deal  of  her.  How  can  you  waste 
your  time  on  anyone  so — so  cheap? 
Oh,  I  suppose  she's  attractive  in  a  way, 
but—" 

"Cheap?  What  gives  you  the  right 
to  say  that — to  make  any  kind  of  com- 
ment?" 

"Well,  it's  perfectly  obvious,"  said 
Julie.     "She — " 

"What  do  you  know  about  her?" 
he  interrupted  savagely.  "You  don't 
know  anything  about  her  kind  of  de- 
cency, her  honesty.  What  did  you  come 
here  for,  anyway?" 

"Because  I'm  worried,"  Julie  flung  at 
him.  "You  talked  so  strangely  last  night 
— trying  to  blame  me  for  doing  what 


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you  yourself  told  me  to  do.  I  know 
you'll  stop  at  nothing  to  even  the  score 
with  Martin  McClain.  And  I  can't  help 
but  feel  that  you're  trying  to  shift  the 
moral  responsibility  for  that  upon  me, 
too." 

"I  don't  know  why,"  he  said  stiffly. 
"I  accept  full  moral  responsibility,  Julie, 
for  anything  that  may  happen.  So 
you  can  just  forget  it." 

"But  I  can't!"  She  came  close  to  him, 
her  eyes  wide,  pleading.  "What  you  do 
with  your  life  is  very  important  to  me." 
A  convulsive  movement  broke  the 
smooth,  white  line  of  her  throat. 

Suddenly  he  was  sorry  for  her.  "There 
can't  be  any  beginning  over  for  me, 
Julie.  Only  an  end.  We'd  best  say 
goodbye,  right  now." 

"Roger — "  But  his  look  stopped  her. 
She  turned  and  walked  out. 

HE  waited  until  her  footsteps  receded 
down  the  stairs.  Then,  in  feverish 
haste,  he  reached  into  the  back  of 
a  bureau  drawer,  drew  forth  a  precious, 
heavy  object.  They  were  closing  in  on 
him,  and  McClain  was  coming  back  .  .  . 
and  he  was  working  against  time.  He 
didn't  hear  Charlotte's  knock  until  she 
was  in  the  room. 

"Ray — "  And  then  she  saw  the  gun. 
Quickly  she  swallowed  her  shock. 
"When  you  play  like  that,"  she  said, 
"you  ought  to  have  sense  enough  to 
lock  your  door.  Are  you  nuts?  Do 
you  know  what  they  can  do  to  you  if 
they  find  you  with  a  gun?" 

"I  know  it's  time  for  us  to  call  things 
quits,"  he  said  levelly.  "You  know  what 
I  am,  and  I'm  only  sorry  I've  told  you 
as  much  as  I  have.  Now  wake  up  and 
let  me  alone — " 

She  sat  down  on  the  bed  close  to  him, 
her  eyes  holding  his.  "Me  wake  up, 
Ray  Brandon?  Forget  I  ever  knew  you? 
It's  too  late  for  that!  I  wanted  to  clear 
out  of  here  on  account  of  Larry  Law- 
rence, but  oh,  no,  you  wouldn't  let  me 
go!  What  a  song  and  dance  you  gave 
me!  Running  away  from  myself,  you 
said.  Well,  what  do  you  think  you're 
doing?" 

"I  deserve  that,"  he  admitted.  "I  had 
no  right  to  meddle — Charlotte!" 

She'd  snatched  the  gun  suddenly, 
butt  toward  her,  so  that  he  cried  out  in 
fear.  And  then  she  was  running  with 
it,  out  of  the  room,  down  the  hall.  He 
heard  her  door  slam  and  lock. 

He  ran  after  her,  pounded  on  it. 
"Charlotte — "  A  drawer  opened  and 
shut  inside  the  room;  then  there  were 
other  sounds,  wretched,  strangled.  She 
was  crying. 

"Charlotte—" 

She  opened  the  door.  "You  can 
come  in  now,"  she  said.  "But  you  can't 
have  that  gun.  I  know  what  you  plan 
to  do  with  it,  and  I  won't  let  you.  I — 
I'll  use  it  on  myself,  first." 

He  believed  her.  She  stood  looking 
up  at  him,  her  face  raining  tears  as 
frankly  as  a  child's,  and  she  meant 
every  word  she  said.  He  couldn't  help 
himself.    He  put  his  arms  around  her. 

"I  mean  it,"  she  said  after  a  while, 
her  lips  close  to  his  ear.  "Not  what  I 
said  exactly — but  it  would  be  worse 
than  that  for  me.  If  you  don't  stop 
this — this  way  you're  going,  Ray,  I'm 
going  straight  to  that  parole  officer,  and 
straight  to  Dr.  Matthews  .  .  .  and 
they'll  see  that  you  stop.  I  love  you. 
I  didn't  mean  to  tell  you,  and  I  know 
you  don't  want  to  hear  it — " 

His  arms  tightened  around  her. 
"Charlotte,  you've  meant — you  mean 
so  much  to  me — " 

He  pressed  her  face  against  his  cheek, 
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On  call  to  appear  before 
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notice,  lovely  honey-blond 
Nancy  Shelby— New  York 
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clear,  sparkling,  photogen- 
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find  of  the  year  is  Edna 
Wallace  Hopper  White 
Clay  Pack.  There's  nothing 
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107 


MOTHER1- 


Your  child  will 

enjoy  this 
tasty  Laxative 

You  don't  have  to  coax  your  child 
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Mother,  you'll  like  the  way 
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When  Nature  "forgets"., 
remember 

EX-LAX 

THE  CHOCOLATED  LAXATIVE 


High  School  Course 

at  Home 


Many  Ffltubjjij  Years 

I  Go  M  rapidly  as  your  time  »nd  abilities  permit.  Equivalent  to  reei- 
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"I      | 

cant  1 
afford 


CORNS, can  you?" 


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108 


BLUE 
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Chicago  16 


that  his  thoughts  could  run  free.  This 
was  what  he  got  for  talking  too  much  to 
too  many  people,  for  giving  in  to  life. 
And  now  he'd  have  to  destroy  the  one 
thing  he'd  had  all  along,  in  spite  of 
everything — his   self-respect. 

"Charlotte,"  he  said,  "would  you  be- 
lieve me  if  I  told  you  I'd  changed 
my  mind — about  everything?  Would 
you  believe  me  if  I  told  you  I  wanted 
to  put  the  past  away,  finally,  and  start 
over?   Would  you  help   me?" 

She  pulled  her  head  free  and  looked 
up  at  him,  long  and  steadily.  And  he 
knew  that  she'd  believe  him — because 
she  wanted  to  so  desperately.  "Yes, 
Ray.      Yes — to   everything." 

"Dr.  Matthews  offered  me  a  job  last 
night,"  he  went  on.  "In  a  law  office — 
something  I'll  like,  something  I've  al- 
ways been  interested  in.  I'd  like  to  take 
that  job,  Charlotte.     I'd  like  to  try — " 

"You  mean  it?    You're  not  just — " 

"I  mean  it."  And  he  made  himself 
smile  to  match  her  smile. 

"Then — "  She  moved  quickly,  un- 
locked the  bureau  drawer,  took  some- 
thing out.  He'd  forgotten  about  the  gun. 
There  were  other  guns;  it  had  lost 
importance  compared  to  the  other  thing 
she  had  threatened  to  do.  "Here's  your 
property,  Ray.    And  I  apologize — " 

She  held  the  gun  out  to  him,  an  act 
of  trust,   of  faith.   .   .   . 

Bright  morning  sunlight  warmed  the 
inscription  on  an  office  door:  Fleming, 
Drake  and  Henehan,  Attorneys-at-law. 
Ray  Brandon  shut  the  door  behind  him, 
walked  over  the  thick  carpet  to  the 
receptionist's  desk.  "My  name  is  Ray 
Brandon.  I  believe  Dr.  Matthews  made 
an  appointment  for  me — " 

"Oh,  yes,  Mr.  Brandon.  Mr.  Fleming 
is  busy  at  the  moment,  but  he  should 
be  free  soon.  Will  you  sit  down?  There 
are   some   magazines    on   the   table — " 

On  top  of  the  magazines  was  the 
morning  newspaper.  "Prominent  indus- 
trialist, Martin  McClain  and  daughter 
Susan  .  .  .  arrived  today  .  .   ." 

Ray  Brandon  went  to  the  door.  "Tell 
Mr.  Fleming  that  I  suddenly  remem- 
bered I  had — another  appointment." 

Several  nights  later,  Ray  Brandon 
knocked  on  the  door  of  a  closed  room. 
"All  set?"  Ray  asked,  stepping  inside. 

"I  think  so,"  the  man  answered.  "But 
you  sure  gave  me  a  tough  one.  Mc- 
Clain's  got  his  own  bodyguards — thugs. 
Then  there  are  private  dicks  all  around 
the  place.  Who  would  be  hiring  them?" 

DAY  thought  he  knew,  and  he  tipped 
li  his  hat,  mentally,  to  Dr.  Matthews  for 
hoping  to  the  last.  He  had  private  de- 
tectives out  for  him  now,  and  if  they 
failed — he  would  turn  to  the  police. 

"Never  mind  who,"  he  said  impa- 
tiently. "Did  you  get  the  layout?  I  got 
everything,  even  drew  you  a  diagram 
too.  This  won't  be  easy,  but  you  can 
do  it.  The  first  part's  duck  soup.  You 
could  do  it  blindfolded — " 

Ray  Brandon  walked  down  an  alley 
behind  the  Andover  Arms  Hotel,  turned 
into  a  door  marked  Service  Entrance. 
He  kept  going  to  the  end  of  the  passage, 
went  through  an  iron  door,  up  a  flight 
of  stairs,  through  another  heavy  door. 
He  was  inside,  not  the  Andover  Arms, 
but  the  Athletic  Club  which  adjoined 
it.  Rapidly,  he  walked  down  the  car- 
peted corridor,  found  a  door  marked 
"Fire  Escape."  He  went  through  the 
door,  climbed  two  flights  up  the  fire 
escape.  Now  the  ticklish  part — a  six- 
foot  jump  to  the  fire  escape  of  the 
Andover  Arms  .  .  .  He  made  it.  He 
felt  as  if  he  could  have  leaped  twice 
that  distance  through  space.  Up  another 
flight — fire  escape  to  balcony — another 


Ming  shoulder!. 


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23 


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six  feet,  with  the  pavement  of  the  court 
floors  below.  ...  A  French  door  off 
the  balcony  .  .  .  McClain's  apartment. 

Then  he  had  to  wait.  McClain  was  in 
bed — and  his  daughter  was  standing 
beside  him,  talking  forever.  She  left 
the  room,  returned,  left  again.  Ray 
turned  the  handle  of  the  French  door — 
and  froze.  Someone  else  in  the  room 
now — looked  like  one  of  the  body- 
guards. He  was  gone;  the  light  was  out. 

This  time  Ray  waited  until  he  was 
sure.  Then  he  stepped  into  the  breath- 
ing dark,  snapped  the  light  switch. 

"Who — "  The  man  in  the  bed  sat  up. 
"Barton!" 

"That's  right.  You  do  remember  me, 
don't  you,  McClain?"  His  voice  was 
easy,  but  uncontrollable  joy  exploded 
inside  him.  This  was  the  end  of  fifteen 
years  of  dreaming,  planning — and  it 
was  worth  it,  oh,  a  thousand  times  over! 
McClain's  face!  McClain's  craven  face. 

"Barton,  put  down  that  gun."  He 
tried  to  bluff.  "You'll  never  get  away 
with  this — " 

"There's  a  silencer  on  the  gun — and 
don't  try  to  reach  for  the  phone!  I 
got  in  here,  and  I'll  get  out  again — " 

"It'll  be  just  a  question  of  time."  Mc- 
Clain spoke  as  if  every  word  were  a 
breath,  as  indeed  it  was.  "They'll  get 
you—" 

"Why  should  I  care?"  Ray  exulted. 
"I  don't  care  to  live — thanks  to  you. 
All  I  want  is  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing I've  sent  you  on  ahead  of  me." 

McClain  began  to  shake.  His  face 
puckered  like  a  woman's.  "Let  me 
talk!  Let  me  explain!"  he  screamed,  and 
quickly  lowered  his  voice.  "I  was  in 
a  tight  spot.  I  had  my  back  against  the 
wall.  I  never  thought  they'd  convict 
you—" 

"No?  But  you  fixed  it  so  that  they 
could.  You  testified  against  me  at  the 
trial." 

McCLAIN  was  swaying,  his  hands 
.  clasped  as  if  in  prayer.  "If  you  only 
knew  how  I've  regretted  that!  I've 
had  to  live  with  myself  all  these  years, 
Barton.  If  I  had  it  to  do  over — I'll  do 
anything — anything  to  make  it  up  to 
you—" 

"Fine,"  said  Ray.  "Bring  back  my 
wife,  my  son  who  thinks  I'm  dead. 
Oh,  no,  you  can't  do  that.  But — would 
you  go  to  prison?" 

He  watched,  enjoying  himself  hugely. 
This  ridiculous  figure  in  pajamas,  with 
its  ridiculous  face  working  like  a  baby's 
.  .  .  this  was  what  he'd  wanted,  this  was 
what  he'd  worked  for,  risked  every- 
thing for. 

"Prison?"  Voice  falsetto.  "I  don't 
know  what  you  mean —  Yes,  yes,  I  will, 
Barton!  Anything —  Only  don't  shoot! 
For  God's  sake,  don't  shoot  .  .  ." 

Somehow,  Ray  Brandon  got  back 
down  the  fire  escape.  Somehow — he 
would  never  know  just  how — he  found 
his  way  back  to  Selby  Flats.  He  was 
walking  slowly,  beaten,  yet  drawn  on 
in  spite  of  himself,  toward  a  light  that 
burned  in  a  window.  The  light — the 
life — it  was  all  mixed  up  in  his  ex- 
hausted mind.  But  you  couldn't  beat 
it.  You  were  what  you  were,  and  if 
you  were  weak,  as  he  was  weak,  it 
reached  out  and  claimed  you  against 
your  will. 

Of  course,  Dr.  Matthews  would  say 
that  he  was  strong.  Charlotte  would 
say — well,  Charlotte  loved  him.  And 
Julie — never  mind  Julie.  She  was  out 
of  this,   for   good. 

He  would  have  to  tell  Dr.  Matthews 
that,  too,  along  with  the  rest — along 
with  the  confession  that,  after  all,  he 
had  been  incapable  of  killing  Martin 
McClain. 


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Coast  to  Coast  in  Television 

(Continued  from  page  47) 


wouldn't  make  suds,  for  instance,  and 
foamed  a  couple  of  bottles  of  beer  into 
the  water,  is  a  hero  of  the  man -versus 
video  struggle. 

*  *         » 

With  most  people  eager  for  the  big 
stars  of  radio  and  movies  to  move  into 
television,  everyone  thinks  of  Jack 
Benny's  program  as  a  natural;  however 
Jack  thinks  he  would  have  to  change 
his  format  completely  to  make  the 
switch.  As  he  explains  it,  "To  properly 
portray  some  of  our  scenes  would  cost  a 
fortune  for  sets  and  photography  and 
yet  wouldn't  be  as  funny  as  the  same 
scene  done  on  the  radio. 

"For  example,  we  use  a  long  series  of 
footsteps  and  sound  effects  to  portray 
me  walking  down  into  my  vault  and  the 
process  of  going  through  squeaky  doors, 
untying  endless  chains  and  finally 
opening  the  vault  to  the  sound  of  screwy 
burglar  alarms.  Each  listener  has  his 
own  conception  of  that  scene,  and  each 
time  it  seems  to  get  a  laugh.  Now  this 
same  routine  on  television,  produced 
with  costly  sets,  cobwebs  and  costumes, 
might  be  fairly  funny  but  I'm  sure  it 
wouldn't  be  quite  as  hilarious  as  the 
illusion  built  up  by  sound  effects." 

*  *         * 

Allen  Funt,  who  has  been  conducting 
Candid  Microphone  over  ABC  for  well 
over  a  year,  is  doing  just  as  hilarious  a 
job  with  his  video  program  based  on  the 
same  idea.  Now,  of  course,  instead  of 
just  the  hidden  mike,  there  is  a  hidden 
candid  camera  as  well.  All  those  who 
ever  wondered  what  Funt's  victims  look 
like,  will  enjoy  this  show — over  ABC- 
TV. 

*  *         * 

Now  you  can  get  a  B.S.  in  television! 
This  semester  the  American  University 
in  Washington,  D.  C,  is  offering  courses 
leading  to  a  Bachelor  of  Science  degree 
with  a  major  in  radio  and  television. 
This  is  the  first  accredited  university  to 
recognize  the  importance  of  TV  and  the 
contribution  it  will  make  to  our  cul- 
ture. Soon  all  educational  institutions 
should  recognize  their  obligation  to 
train  and  instruct  for  a  medium  that 
will  have  such  a  tremendous  impact  on 

our  living. 

*  *         * 

People  love  to  moan  about  the  things 
that  interfere  with  their  tele  reception 
— it  has  replaced  bridge  scores,  opera- 
tions, and  the  high  cost  of  living  as  a 
favorite  gripe.  Tracing  down  the  source 
of  a  reception  disturbance  makes  a  de- 
tective out  of  the  video  service  man — 
it  can  turn  out  that  the  location  of  your 
antenna,  the  ham  radio  operator  next 
door,  or  a  dozen  other  things  are  keep- 
ing you  from  getting  the  clear  picture 
you  want  on  your  set.  The  most 
troublesome  factor  found  yet  is  the 
diathermy  machine.  That  little  device, 
while  it's  fixing  up  someone's  rheu- 
matic knee,  can  konk  out  television 
sets  for  blocks  around.  Luckily  most 
such  machines  are  turned  off  at  night — 
the  big  television  time. 

Because  of  television,  we  may  all  find 
ourselves  going  about  in  much  darker 
make-up  than  we  ever  dreamed  of 
using.  Television  calls  for  its  own  spe- 
cial make-up,  and  though  in  the  early 
days  experiments  were  made  with 
weird  make-ups — green  and  purple  lip- 
sticks and  the  like — now  deep  tan  foun- 
dation, orange-red  lipstick  and  brown 
accents  on  the  eyelids  are  found  to  be 


the  most  effective.  Since  no  one  knows 
nowadays  when  a  television  camera  is 
going  to  catch  up  with  him,  experts  are 
predicting  that  we'll  all  take  to  mild 
versions  of  the  video  make-up. 

*  *         * 

Tommy  Dorsey,  who  has  been  disc 
jockeying,  is  reforming  his  band  to  go 
into  tele.  During  recent  months  Tommy 
has  been  doing  considerable  research 
into  the  possible  uses  of  name  bands  by 
video.  He  feels  that  several  years  ago, 
when  Hollywood  was  making  extensive 
use  of  the  marquee  power  of  name 
maestros,  both  the  latter  and  film  pro- 
ducers failed  in  getting  the  most  out  of 
what  they  had. 

*  *         * 

The  American  Cancer  Society  is  loud 
in  its  praise  of  television.  They  found 
the  medium  extremely  effective  in  their 
campaigning,  so  they  are  going  ahead 
with  a  full-scale  program  of  activity. 
They  find  that  video  is  wonderful  when 
it  comes  to  stimulating  contributions. 
They  plan  to  put  cancer  education  be- 
fore the  cameras  as  well  as  entertain- 
ment and  direct  appeals  for  funds. 

*  *         * 

Gladys  Swarthout,  glamorous  opera 
star,  and  her  husband,  Frank  Chapman, 
concert  baritone,  have  formed  a  tele- 
vision film  company,  with  a  studio  in 
Connecticut,  to  make  15-minute  films. 
The  series  will  be  called  "In  the  Music 
Room." 

*  *         * 

The  nation's  football  scouts  are  grate- 
ful to  television.  This  fall  finds  them 
doing  their  spying  for  new  athletic 
talent  in  front  of  a  TV  set  in  a  nice 
warm  room — instead  of  being  con- 
stantly frozen  in  the  stands. 


Sultry    Lena    Home    was    a    guest    on    Ed 
Sullivan's    Toast    of    The    Town,    CBS-TV. 


Mine   is   the   one   and 

titwu  Jj  mm  MuMd  yikl 


wa  iMamM/i 


My  new  nail  polish  has  so  much  beauty  to  offer 
so  many  women.     You'll  be  amazed  to  see  how 
a  polish  selling  for  100  makes  fingertips  so 

lovely.     Plasteen,  my  exclusive  ingredient,  makes 
polish  flow  on  easier  and  dry  with  a  new  jewel-like 
brilliance.     No  "bubbles"!     You'll  be  amazed. 


My  polish  has  these  ^  advantages: 


2   No  "bubbles' 


I  Plasteen  to  help 
prevent  chipping 


J 


4  J 


3  New,  jewel-like 
brilliance 


HELEN    NEL'SHAEFER  .  .  .  making  her  shade  selections  for  Fall  and 
Winter  ...  in  harmony  with  the  season "s  smart  costume  colors. 


▼F 


4  Last  word  in 
"high-style"  shades 


! 


5  Finer,  more  pliable 
brush  gives 
neater  outlines 


NEWEST  OF  LIPSTICKS... 

You'll  like  the  smooth-creamy 
feel,  the  true-to-tont  colors, 
the  way  this  new  lipstick 
of  mine  stay s  on  and  on  !    ■}  (~)  J. 


NAIL      POLISH 

Neu  Rose  ...  a  featured  Fall  shade 
. . .  See  all  1 2  new  fashion  tones  of  rose  and 
red — all  ivith  Plasteen  —  at  most  5  and 
10's  and  drug  stores.  ._ 

10* 

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FAMOUS  FLOWER-STYLIST 


AGREES: 


'Whether  you're  arranging  flowers  or  choosing  a  cigarette.. .EXPERIENCE  IS  THE  BEST  TEACHER!" 


"I  tried  and  com- 
pared many  brands 
— and  I  learned  that 
cool,  mild  Camels 
are  the  cigarette 


Simple  French  marigolds  .  .  .  a 
handful  of  green  leaves  take  on 
a  sophisticated  air  arranged 
with   the  touch   of  experience! 

■ 


•  Into  a  ballroom  ablaze 
with  fabulous  flowers  walks 
a  brisk,  little  brunette.  She 
tilts  a  creamy  petal;  ad- 
justs a  straying  leaf; 
nods  with  satisfaction.  Miss 
Judith  Garden  has  just  set 
the  stage  for  a  dazzling  so- 
cial debut!  Later... in  her 
shop  (at  left)... she  designs 
a  tiny  masterpiece  from  a 
handful  of  ripe-red  fruit  in 
10  -  cent  -  store  container. 
"It  isn't  the  cost  of  the 
blooms,"  says  the  talented 
Miss  Garden.  "It's  experi- 
ence and  taste  that  counts." 


A  few  lemon-tinted  carnations, 
a  sweep  e/  foliage — result : 
a  fine-arts  arrangement !  "i/V 
experience—not  expense  that 
counts"  says  Miss  Garden, 


'"f^1 

&&&&& 


g&U>%£ 


/ 


K.  J.  Reynolds  Tobacco  Company.  Winston-Sale 


MOST  people,  like  Judith  Garden,  know  that  experi- 
ence is  the  best  teacher.  That's  why  millions  of 
smokers  who  tried  and  compared  different  brands  of 
cigarettes  say,  "Camels  are  the  choice  of  experience 
with  me!"  Let  your  own  "T-Zone" — T  for  Taste  and 
T  for  Throat — tell  you  about  Camels.  Let  your  taste 
tell  you  about  Camel's  marvelous  flavor.  Let  your  throat 
discover  that  wonderful  Camel  mildness  and  coolness. 
See  how  your  own  experience  tells  you  why  more 
people  are  smoking  Camels  than  ever  before! 

According  to  a  Nationwide  survey: 

MORE  DOCTORS  SMOKE  CAMELS 
THAN  ANY  OTHER  CIGARETTE 

Wh.n  113,597  doctors  were  asked  l>y  Lhrec  independent 
research  organizations  to  name  the  cigarette  they 
moked,  more  doctors  named  Camel  than  any  other  brand. 


Let  your  "T-Zone"  tell  you 


T  for  Taste... 
T  for  Throat 

...that's  your 
proving  ground  for 

any  cigarette. 

See  if  Camels  don't 

»olt  your  "X'Zmw" 

to  a  "t." 


RADIO 
MIRROR 


AJVJD  TELEVISION 


DECEMBER 
25* 


RTIA  FACES  LIFE- 

|4  complete  novelette 
i  pictures  -  The  story  of 

DAVID  HARUM 


The  gift  that  says  "You're  lovely." 
Face  Powder.  Rouge  and  Lipstick,  in 
a  sparkling  holiday  box  ....  $2.75 


Gift  of  glamour!  Deluxe  Chest,  con- 
taining Face  Powder,  Talcum,  Rouge, 
Lipstick  and  Perfume $7.50 


Perfume  $1.65,  $3.00;  Triple  Vanity 
$6.75;  Lipstick  handsomely  encased 
in  gleaming  gold-color  metal  .  $1.00 


VjrllLS  with  the 
Fragrance    of  Romance 

i    BOURJOIS 


Compliment  her  with  a  gift  of  charm ! 
Evening  in  Paris  Eau  de  Cologne  and 
Talcum $2.25 


Gift  box  containing  Evening  in  Paris 
Perfume,  Talcum,  Face  Powder, 
Rouge,  Lipstick,  Eau  de  Cologne  $5.00 


Evening  in  Paris  Perfume,  Toi- 
let Water,  Face  Powder,  Sachet, 
Rouge,  Lipstick $9.00 


AIL  prices  plus  tax. 


vv'Qwitisf$  sag  the  IPANA  wat}  wd@  f 


Junior  Model  Babs  March  shows  how  it  can  work  for  you,  too 


Just  17  and  stepping  out  to  success,  cover  girl  Babs 
March  of  Roselle,  N.  J.  has  a  smile  that  gets  her  modelling 
dates  —  and  dance  dates! 

"I  follow  the  Ipana  way  to  healthier  gums  and  brighter 
teeth,"  explains  Babs,  "because  dentists  say  it  works!"  Her 
professionally  approved  Ipana  dental  care  can  work  for  you, 
too  — like  this  . . . 


Here's  the  Ipana  way  that  dentists  say  works!  "And  it's 
a  pleasure!"  adds  Babs.  Easy  as  1,  2: 

1 .  Between  regular  visits  to  your  dentist,  brush  all  teeth  sur- 
faces with  Ipana  at  least  twice  a  day. 

2.  Then  massage  gums  gently  as  your  dentist  advises  — to 
stimulate  gum  circulation.  (Ipana's  unique  formula  helps 
stimulate  your  gums— you  can  feel  the  tingle ! ) 

Just  do  this  regularly  for  healthier  gums,  brighter  teeth  — 
an  Ipana  smile.  Ipana's  extra-refreshing  flavor  leaves  your 
mouth  fresher,  your  breath  cleaner,  too.  Ask  your  dentist 
about  Ipana  and  massage.  See  what  it  can  do  for  you! 


YES,  8  OUT  OF  10  DENTISTS*  SAY... 


■Product  of  Bristol-Myers 


Ibana  jerrtaj  care  fromtfes 
*,_„         4feaMiier  qms,  brighter  teeth 

P.S.  For  correct  brushing,  use  the  DOUBLE  DUTY  Tooth  Brush  with  the  twist  in  the  handle.  1000  dentists  helped  design  it! 


*      •      *      *      * 


Don't  be 
Half-safe! 


VALDA 


by 
SHERMAN 


At  the  first  blush  of  womanhood  many  mys- 
terious changes  take  place  in  your  body.  For 
instance,  the  apocrine  glands  under  your 
arms  begin  to  secrete  daily  a  type  of  perspi- 
ration you  have  never  known  before.  This  is 
closely  related  to  physical  development  and 
causes  an  unpleasant  odor  on  both  your  per- 
son and  your  clothes. 

There  is  nothing  "wrong"  with  you.  It's  just 
another  sign  you  are  now  a  woman,  not  a 
girl ...  so  now  you  must  keep  yourself  safe 
with  a  truly  effective  underarm  deodorant. 

Two  dangers— Underarm  odor  is  a  real  handi- 
cap at  this  romantic  age,  and  the  new  cream 
deodorant  Arrid  is  made  especially  to  over- 
come this  very  difficulty.  It  kills  this  odor 
on  contact  in  2  seconds,  then  by  antiseptic 
action  prevents  the  formation  of  all  odor  for 
48  hours  and  keeps  you  shower-bath  fresh. 
It  also  stops  perspiration  and  so  protects 
against  a  second  danger— perspiration  stains. 
Since  physical  exertion,  embarrassment  and 
emotion  can  now  cause  your  apocrine  glands 
to  fairly  gush  perspiration,  a  dance,  a  date, 
an  embarrassing  remark  may  easily  make 
you  perspire  and  offend,  or  ruin  a  dress. 

All  deodorants  are  not  alike  — so  remember 
—  no  other  deodorant  tested  stops  perspira- 
tion and  odor  so  completely  yet  so  safely  as 
new  Arrid.  Its  safety  has  been  proved  by 
doctors.  That's  why  girls  your  age  buy  more 
Arrid  than  any  other  age  group.  In  fact,  more 
men  and  women  everywhere  use  Arrid  than 
any  other  deodorant.  It's  antiseptic,  used  by 
117,000  nurses. 

Intimate  protection  is  needed  —  so  protect 
yourself  with  this  snowy,  stainless  cream  that 
smooths  on  and  disappears.  This  new  Arrid, 
with  the  amazing  new  ingredient  Creamogen, 
will  not  crystallize  or  dry  out  in  the  jar.  The 
American  Laundering  Institute  has  awarded 
Arrid  its  Approval  Seal— harmless  to  fabrics. 
Arrid  is  safe  for  the  skin— non-irritating— can 
be  used  right  after  shaving. 

Don't  be  half-safe.  During  this  "age  of  ro- 
mance" don't  let  perspiration  problems  spoil 
your  fun.  Don't  be  half-safe  — be  Arrid-safe! 
Use  Arrid  to  be  sure.  Get  Arrid  now  at  your 
favorite  drug  counter  —  only  39<t  plus  tax. 

{Advertisement) 


DECEMBER,  1948 


VOL.  31,  NO.  1 


HWIO 
MIRROR 


KEYSTONE  EDITION 


AJVD  TELEVISION 


Radio  Mirror   Awards 26 


PEOPLE  ON  THE  A4R 


Bell 


Ralph 

My  Boss,  Drew  Pearson by  David  Karr 

Come  and  Visit  Ed  Gardner by  Pauline  Swanson 

Your  Ticket  To  The  Breakfast  Club 

It's  Not  The  Money  That  Counts by  Martin  Cohen 

Queen  For  A  Day — in  Pictures 

R.  F.  D.  America by  Mac  McKerrow 

"It  Never  Hurts  To  Try !" by  Mrs.  Bessie  M.  Lawrence 

Life  With  Sister by  Margaret  and  Barbara  Whiting 

Through  The  Years  With  David  Harum — in  Pictures. 


18 

28 
30 
34 
36 
38 
40 
42 
52 
54 


EB  and  the  Boys by  Frances  Bergen     58 


~.<'«E  *  :W\ii.,; 


Facing   The  Music by    Duke   Ellington  10 

Look  At  The  Records by  Joe  Martin  12 

Collector's  Corner by  Denny  Dennis  13 

What's  New  From  Coast  to  Coast by  Dale  Banks  14 

Dear  Editor 25 

Inside  Radio 66 

It's  Here 69 

Radio  Mirror  Quiz 94 

Information   Booth 98 


The  Best  View by  Mary  Jane  Fulton  6 

Life  Can   Be  Beautiful 22 

Between  The  Bookends by   Ted   Malone  44 

Traveler  of  The  Month by  Tommy  Bartlett  46 

Come,  Ye  Thankful by  Kate  Smith  60 

A  Plan  In  Time by  Terry  Burton  70 


Coast  to   Coast  in  Television 48 

Mary  Kay  and  Johnny 50 

Toast  of  The  Town 51 


WMGM:    Birth  of  a  Station 4 

WFIL:    Shorts  on  Sports 8 

KDKA:    Radio  and  the  Three  Rs 16 

WBEN:    For  Women  Only .  21 


Another  Woman — A  Portia  Faces  Life  Novelette  by  Helen  Christy  Harris    62 
ON   THE  COVER:    Edgar  Bergen,   Charlie   McCarthy,  and   Mortimer   Snerd 


Editorial  Director 
FRED   B.    SAMMIS 


Editor 
DORIS  McFERRAN 


Art  Director 
JACK  ZASORIN 


Managing  Editor 
EVELYN   E.  FIORE 


Associate  Art  Director 
FRANCES   MALI 


Television 
JOAN    MURPHY    LLOVD 


Research 
TERU  GOTO 

Chicago  Office:  Editor,   HEEEN  CAMBRIA  BOESTAD 
Hollywood  Office:  Editor,  ANN  DAGGETT  Managing  Editor,    FRANCES   MORRIN 

Staii  Photographers,  HYMIE  FINK,  STEREING  SMITH       Assistant,  BETTY  JO  RICE 


RADIO  AND  TELEVISION  MIRROR,  published  monthly  oy  MACFADDEN  PUBLICATIONS,  INC.,  New  York,  N.  Y. 
General  Business,  Editorial  and  Advertising  Offices,  205  East  42nd  St.,  New  York  17,  N.  Y.  Hollywood— Beverly 
Hills  Office:  321  S.  Beverly  Drive,  Beverly  Hills,  California.  O.  J.  Elder,  President;  Harold  Wise,  Executive  Vice 
President:  Herbert  Drake,  vice  President;  Joseph  Schultz,  Vice  President:  S.  O.  Shapiro,  Vice  President;  Ernest  V. 
Heyn,  Vice  President;  Meyer  Dworkin,  Secretary  and  Treasurer;  Edward  F.  Lethen,  Advertising;  Director.  Chicago 
Office:  224  North  La  Salle  St.,  Leslie  R.  Gage,  Mgr.  San  Francisco  Office:  1613  Russ  Building,  Joseph  M.  Dooher, 
Met.  Los  Angeles  Office:  Suite  908,  649  South  Olive  St.,  George  Wealherby,  Mgr.  Charles  O.  Terwllliger,  Jr.,  East- 
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are  taking  unnecessary  risk.  The  contents  of  this  magazine  may  not  be  reprinted  either  wholly  or  in  part  without 
permission. 

(Member   of    Macfadden    Women's    Group) 

Copyright,   1948,  by  Macfadden  Publications,  Inc.  All  rights  reserved  under  International  Copyright  Convention.     All 

rights   reserved   under  Pan-American   Copyright   Convention.    Todos   derechos   reservados   segun    La   Convention    Pan- 

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Printed  in  U.  S.  A.  bv  Art  Color  Printing  Co..  Dunellen.  N.  J. 


Coming  Next  Month 


Jimmy  Durante  gets  talked 
about  by  his  old  friend 
Eddie  Jackson,  in  January 


NEVER  before  told — because  Jimmy 
wouldn't  tell  them — are  the  stories 
about  Jimmy  that  Eddie  Jackson  writes 
for  January  Radio  Mirror.  What,  for 
instance,  is  "Duranteville"?  And  why 
was  Jimmy  the  man  of  the  hour  when 
he  toured  Italy?  Maybe  you  can't 
answer  those  questions  now,  but  wait 
till  you've  read  "A  Heart  as  Big  as  his 

Nose;" 

*  *         * 

One  of  the  most  appealing  family 
portraits — full  color,  of  course — that 
we've  _ever  seen  comes  with  Harriet 
Milliard  Nelson's  story  about  herself, 
Ozzie  and  their  two  sons.  "Bringing  Up 
the  Boys,"  Harriet  calls  it  .  .  .  but  Ozzie 
thinks  there  ought  to  be  a  question 
mark  after  that  title. 

*  *        * 

You  know  Connie  Wakefield  as 
Carolyn  Kramer's  best  friend,  in  the 
daily  drama  Right  to  Happiness.  What 
you  may  not  have  known  about  Connie 
is  that  she  has  lived  a  life  brim-full  of 
drama,  of  heartbreak,  of  courageous 
self-sufficiency  ...  a  life  so  exciting 
that  we've  made  it  into  a  four-page 
picture-story  for  January.  Connie's  ex- 
periences have  never  been  dramatized 
on  the  air,  so  her  story  will  be  com- 
pletely new  to  you — and  completely 
inspiring! 

*  *         * 

Radio  Mirror  takes  you,  in  January, 
to  the  Fred  Waring  Show — two  pages 
of  color  as  brilliant  as  though  you  were 
really  watching  it  from  a  studio  seat. 
It's  one  of  radio's  hardest-to-get- 
tickets-to  programs,  but  you'll  be  there. 

*  *         * 

They  grow  some  cute  kids  out  in  Hol- 
lywood. Well,  for  that  matter,  they 
grow  cute  ones  all  over  the  world,  but 
there's  one  we  specially  want  you  to 
meet,  and  he  is  from  Hollywood.  He's 
Ridge  Howard;  the  fact  that  he's  movie- 
and-radio  star  Dorothy  Lamour's  son 
gave  us  a  good  excuse  to  get  all  the  pic- 
tures of  Ridge  we  had  space  for.  Of 
course,  Dot  is  beautiful  .  .  .  but  wait  till 
you  see  Ridge! 

*  •         * 

Besides  the  other  features,  there's  a 
special  surprise:  a  story  in  which  Ralph 
Edwards  tells  the  truth — or  so  he  says — 
about  Truth  or  Consequences.  But  you 
know  how  fast  that  man  talks.  And 
when  you've  read  all  these,  you'll  still 
have  the  Wendy  Warren  Reader  Bonus, 
the  story  about  M.  C.  Todd  Russell,  and 
all  the  rest  to  look  forward  to — in 
January  Radio  Mirror,  on  sale  Decem- 
ber 10th. 


Farley  Grangers  idea  of  a 


V 


famd/i 


FARLEY  GRANGER,  ONE  OF  THE  STARS  IN  SAMUEL  GOLDWYN'S 
"ENCHANTMENT",  AND  CATHY  O'DONNELL 

in  Farley  Grangers  own  words : 

"When  I   first  saw  Cathy  O'Donnell,  I  said, 
'She's  charming-in  every  way!'   And  I  noticed  her 
hands  particularly-they're  so  soft,  so  feminine. 
Now  Cathy  tells  me  she  uses  Jergens 
Lotion  always."  Hollywood  Stars  use  Jergens 
7  to  1  over  any  other  hand  care! 

The  Stars  know.  Their  favorite  hand  care  — Jergens  Lotion 
—is  more  effective  today  in  two  ways:  It  makes  your  hands 
feel  softer  than  ever,  deliciously  smoother.  It  protects 
even  longer  against  roughness.  Today's  Jergens  Lotion 
contains  two  ingredients  many  doctors  use  for 
skin  care.  Still  only  lOtf  to  $1.00  (plus  tax). 
No  oiliness;  no  sticky  feeling.  If  you  care 
for  your  hands— use  Jergens  Lotion!  JfflEf} 

Used  by  More  Women  than 

Any  Other  Hand  Care  in  the  World 

For  the  Softest,  Adorable  Hands,  use  Jergens  Lotion 


His  Idea? 


This  picture   gives  you  an  idea  of  WMGM's   glamorous  new  studios  with  their  walls  and  ceilings  of  polycylindrical, 
flat  and  diamond-shaped  forms  of  transite,  wood  and  plaster.  At  the  mike  are  Morey  Amsterdam    (1)    and  Al  Kelly. 


Following  a  documen- 
tary cavalcade  of 
WHN's  history  by  Ted 
Husing  (left),  Mayor 
O'Dwyer  (right),  offi- 
cially changed  the 
station's     call     letters. 


FOR  comedian  Morey  Amster- 
dam, there  is  no  more  going  to 
work  in  slacks  and  a  sweater. 
Since  September  15,  high  hat, 
white  tie  and  sneakers  have  been 
de  rigeur.  On  that  date,  you  see, 
Morey's  boss  changed  his  location 
— Broadway  to  Fifth  Avenue,  and 
his  name— WHN  to  WMGM. 

WMGM,  which  started  out  as  a 
250 -watt -50-hour- weekly,  today 
has  a  50,000-watt  transmitter  and 
a  139-hour  broadcasting  week.  It 
is  expected  that  even  though  the 
MGM  Hollywood  studios  will  play 
a  more  vigorous  role  in  the  sta- 
tion's programming,  it  will  con- 
tinue its  spectacular  coverage  of 
the  major  sports  events  in  metro- 
politan New  York. 


The  record  industry's 
salute  featured  the 
"WMGM  Jump"  play 
ed  by  Benny  Good- 
man and  Count  Basie; 
songs  by  Vic  Damone, 
(pictured    above). 


In  Glamour  Lobby    (the  15th  floor  reception  room)    Bob  Hawk    (r) 
and   Eileen  O'Connell   interviewed   V.I.P.  like  Lanny   Ross,  center. 


w> 


is  magic  to  a  Man... 


Look,  out  f 


/wecJ^'Zwde$p 


TlSTERlNE  Antiseptic  and  massage  .  .  .  it's  a  "must"  with 
countless   fastidious  women  who  dread   infectious 
dandruff  with  its  ugly  flakes  and  scales. 

Wisely,  they  make  Listerine  Antiseptic  and  massage  a 
part  of  regular  hair-washing.  It's  a  delightful  way  of 
guarding  against  this  all-too-common  condition. 

You  see,  if  the  germs  associated  with  infectious  dan- 
druff are  present  on  hair  and  scalp,  Listerine  Antiseptic 
attacks  them  at  once  .  .  .  kills  them  by  millions.  That  in- 


cludes the  stubborn  "Bottle  Bacillus"  (P.  ovale)  which 
many  dermatologists  say  is  a  causative  agent  of  infectious 
dandruff. 


Get  in  the  habit  of  using  Listerine  Antiseptic  every 
time  you  wash  your  hair.  It's  a  habit  that  can  pay  off  in 
health  and  good  looks.  Try  it  and  you'll  see  what  we  mean. 

Listerine  Antiseptic  is  the  same  antiseptic  that  has  been 
famous  for  more  than  60  years  in  the  field  of  Oral  Hygiene. 
Lambert  Pharmacal  Company,  St.  Louis,  Missouri 

LISTERINE  ANTISEPTIC   every  time  you  wash  your  hair 


You  can 

say 

to  Romance 


Veto  says  "no" 
to  Offending! 

Veto  says  "no"-  to  perspiration 
worry  and  odor!  Soft  as  a  caress  .  . . 
exciting,  new,  Veto  is  Colgate's  wonderful 
cosmetic  deodorant.  Always  creamy  and 
smooth,  Veto  is  lovely  to  use,  keeps  you 
lovely  all  day!  Veto  stops  underarm  odor 
instantly,  checks  perspiration  effectively. 

Veto  says  "no"— to  harming  skin 
and  clothes!  So  effective  ...  yet  so 
gentle — Colgate's  Veto  is  harmless  to  nor- 
mal skin.  Harmless,  too,  even  to  filmy, 
most  fragile  fabrics.  For  Veto  alone  con- 
tains Duratex,  Colgate's  exclusive  ingredi- 
ent to  make  Veto  safer.  No  other  deodorant 
can  be  like  Veto! 

TRUST  ALWAYS  TO  VETO 

IF  YOU  VALVE  YOUR  CHARM! 


Television  actress  Pat 

Murray,      "before"      (above), 

was    not    making    the    most    of    her 

very  good  natural  looks.   "After",  (at  right) 

her  hairdo  and  careful,  clever  make-up  combine 

to  give  WPIX  tele-viewers  the  best  view  of  Pat  when 

they  see  her  in  the  program  Glamor  on  a  Budget. 


By  Mary  Jane  Fulton 


THERE  being  no  retakes  on  television,  a  woman  who  wants  to  look 
her  prettiest  before  its  camera  must  know  her  make-up  technique. 
Pat  Murray,  fashion  stylist  and  director  of  WPIX's  Glamor  on  a 
Budget,  is  well  aware  of  this  fact.  What  she  learned  about  corrective 
make-up  may  well  apply  to  any  woman  who  wants  to  improve  her  looks. 
Here  she  passes  along  the  tricks  she  was  shown  by  Mr.  Farrar,  of  New 
York's  McAlpin  Hotel  Beauty  Salon,  whose  pet  project  is  a  complete  re-do 
from  the  neck  up  at  a  low  budget  price. 

Pat's  hair  is  strawberry  blonde,  her  eyes  a  bright,  sparkling  blue,  her 
skin  fair.    Her  face  is  a  combination  type — square  and  oblong. 

Because  Pat's  skin  is  inclined  to  be  oily,  Mr.  Farrar  advised  careful 
washing,  morning  and  night,  with  mild  soap,  warm  water,  and  a  com- 
plexion brush.  She  follows  this  with  a  warm,  then  a  cold,  rinsing, 
astringent,  and  cake  make-up  base. 

To  minimize  her  wide  brow,  Mr.  Farrar  shortened  her  eyebrows  by 
plucking  hairs  from  the  lower  outer  half,  and  removing  them  on  the 
inner  corner  above  her  brow,  creating  an  arch.  To  give  a  flattering  frame 
to  her  eyes,  he  touched  brown  mascara,   sparingly,  to  her  lashes. 

He  showed  her  how  to  blend  rouge  at  the  side  of  her  cheekbones.  Color- 
ing applied  to  cheek  hollows,  this  expert  pointed  out,  only  emphasizes 
their  hollowness.  This  trick  also  gave  balance  to  her  broad  brow  and 
pointed   chin. 

In  the  "before"  picture  Pat's  own  lipsticking  of  her  lower  lip  has  made 
her  pointed  chin  even  more  so.  In  the  "after"  picture  you  can  see  how  Mr. 
Farrar  has  corrected  this  by  squaring  off  her  lower  lip  to  balance  her 
pointed  chin,  and  by  making  up  both  lips  more  generously. 

He  styled  her  naturally  curly  hair  in  a  short,  fluffy  bob.  The  fullness 
on  the  neck  tapered  her  square  jaw  and  softened  her  chin.  He  also  gave 
her  a  center  part  to  detract  from  her  broad  brow,  and  fluffed  her  hair 
a  bit  on  top  to  give  height.  Soft  curls  brought  slightly  inward  over  the 
temples  also  helped  to  minimize  the  broadness  of  her  forehead. 

Although  your  face  may  be  shaped  differently,  some  of  these  make-up 
tricks  may  apply  to  you.  Experiment— or  seek  an  expert's  advice.  Then 
you'll  have  a  prettier  face  for  Christmas — and  all  through  the  coming  year. 


RADIO      MIRROR      for      BETTER      LIVING 


says  Elizabeth  TAYLOR:!  U\/fe  tti&  Super-Smooth  finish 
New  WcWbury  lewder  gives  my  Skin  !" 


ELIZABETH  TAYLOR, 

;.bectutifu!  co-star  of 
■Mefro-Goldwyn-Mayer's 

"LITTLE  WOMEN",  wears 
satin-smooth      N 
Woodbury  Powder. 


You'll  find  a  new  kind  of  beauty 
in  the  Woodbury  box — 

it's  the  world's  finest  face  powder!  You'll  see 
the  difference*  the  instant  you  wear  divinely 
fragrant  New  Woodbury  Powder: 

*There's  no  "powdery"  look! 

*Shades   are   warmer,   richer,   yet  the   color 
seems  your  own  natural  coloring. 

*New  Woodbury  Powder  gives  a  satin-smooth 
finish  powder  alone  could  never  give  before. 


In  Nation -Wide  Test 

WOODBURY 
WINS  4  T0 1 

over  all  leading 
brands  of  powder 


From  Coast  to  Coast  women  voted 
New  Woodbury  Powder  the  best... 
they  said  Woodbury  was 
better  than  their  own  favorite  face 
powders!  In  this  most  dramatic 
beauty  test  of  all  time,  Woodbury 
won  on  an  average  of  4  to  1  over  all 
other  leading  brands  of  powder. 

6  exciting  shades 

in  New  Woodbury  Powder.   Medium 
and  "Purse"  sizes  3(K  and  15<*  plus  tax. 


Large  "dressing  table"  size  $1.00 

plus  tax.  Get  New  Woodbury 

Powder— in  the  new  "Venus"  box  at 

any  cosmetic  counter! 


TWICE  NEW! 

New  Secret  Ingredient 

gives  a  satin-smooth  finish  to 
your  skin! 

New  Revolutionary  Process 
—plus  Woodbury's 
"Super-Blender"  give 
warmest,  liveliest  shades, 
finest  texture! 


Sportscaster  Moorehead  (r) 
interviews  "Mr.  Baseball" 
himself,  veteran  Philadel- 
phia manager  Connie  Mack. 


Despite  glasses,  Tom  Moorehead 
was    three-letter    man    at    school. 


A  MAJORITY  of  the  radio  and  television  stars  of  to- 
day will  tell  you  that  their  airlane  debuts  came 
about  by  accident.  Tom  Moorehead,  WFIL's  out- 
standing sportscaster  in  Philadelphia,  is  among  the  few 
who  admittedly  left  nothing  to  chance.  For  years  he 
carefully  groomed  himself  for  a  radio  sports  job  and 
when  Tom  made  his  move  his  success  was  instantaneous. 

With  but  five  years  on  the  air,  Moorehead  has  done 
play-by-play  commentary  on  an  even  dozen  different 
sports  for  radio  and  on  five  for  television.  His  com- 
mentaries are  heard  twice  daily;  he  conducts  two  sports 
variety  shows;  and  he  has  taken  his  turn  as  a  disc-jockey 
and  a  quiz-master. 

Nearly  40,000  pieces  of  mail  in  a  six-month  period  this 
year  bear  evidence  of  Tom's  tremendous  popularity 
among  Philadelphia  sports  fans. 

Although  handicapped  by  poor  eyesight,  Moorehead 
was  a  three-letter  man  at  Philadelphia's  Germantown 
Academy — playing  football,  basketball,  and  tennis.  Dur- 
ing these  school  years  Tom  was  a  keen  student  of  every 
sport  and  he  started  to  compile  a  sports  library  that 
would  be  useful  to  him  in  years  to  come. 

Tom's  first  chance  in  radio  came  in  1939  when  he 
joined  WFIL  to  make  a  listener  survey.  Later,  he 
worked  in  the  station's  promotion  and  special  events 
departments  but  that  did  not  interrupt  his  intensive 
study  of  sports.  His  vast  store  of  knowledge  became 
known  throughout  the  city  and  in  1943  he  was  named 
Director  of  Red  Cross  Sports. 


He  started  his  first  WFIL  sportscasts  that  same  year 
and  he  was  appointed  station  director  of  sports  within 
a  year.  At  the  same  time,  he  began  the  Jacob  Read 
Schoolboy  Sports  Show,  which  is  now  in  its  fifth  year 
on  the  air. 

Moorehead's  days  and  nights  are  long.  He  may  do  a 
play-by-play  account  of  a  tennis  match  in  the  afternoon, 
his  regular  commentary  at  6:45  P.M.,  a  television  sports 
event  in  the  evening,  and  his  final  sports  round-up  at 
Midnight.  In  addition  to  this  routine  schedule,  on  Sat- 
urdays he  moderates  the  half-hour  Sports  Clinic  in 
the  morning  and  the  Schoolboy  Sports  Show  at  7  P.M. 
He  has  a  half-hour  television  quiz,  Batter-Up,  on 
WFIL-TV  on  Mondays.  And  he  is  frequently  called 
upon  to  handle  an  ABC  network  sports  origination  from 
Philadelphia. 

For  a  year,  Tom  was  a  quiz-master  on  the  station's 
CamDus  Quiz  show.  This  was  a  result  of  his  great 
popularity  with  the  younger  set.  He  has  made  women's 
sports  a  part  of  his  program,  too,  and  at  one  point  40  per 
cent  of  his  mail  came  from  women  listeners. 

When  the  town's  top  disc-jockey  was  ill  for  six  weeks, 
Tom  was  the  popular  choice  to  become  LeRoy  Miller's 
stand-in. 

Tom's  interest  in  sports  never  will  wane,  he  says.  But 
he  feels  that  someday  he  might  dabble  in  politics  and 
world  affairs. 

"There's  a  game,"  says  he,  "where  I  could  really 
preach  sportsmanship." 


Hep  your  kdnd?  evening-soft  all  cku  Ion?; 


I 


M 


Ihti  fabulous  lotion  if  doub/e-beautu  m&Pic 


h 


ere...  ji 


as  well 'as  here,...™ 


t  tard-at-work  and  "on  display,"  your 
-*■  ■*•  hands  lead  a  double  life.  So — pamper 
them  with  the  double-beauty  magic  of 
Trushay. 

Trushay,  you  see,  is  first  of  all  a  velvet- 
soft  lotion — with  a  wondrous  touch  you've 
never  known  before.  A  luxury  lotion  for 


all  your  lotion  needs — a  joy  to  use  any 
time.  Every  fragrant,  peach-colored  drop 
is  so  rich,  your  hands  feel  softer  and 
smoother  instantly! 

Yet  .  .  .  Trushay's  magic  doesn't  stop 
there.  It  also  brings  to  you  a  fabulous 
"beforehand"  extra! 


m 

Smoothed  on  your  hands  before  doing 
dishes  or  light  laundry,  Trushay  protects 
them  even  in  hot,  soapy  water.  Guards 
them  from  drying  damage.  So  your  hands 
stay  evening-soft  all  day  long! 

Adopt  Trushay's  double-beauty  help — 
begin  today  to  use  Trushay! 


TRUSHAY 


A     PRODUCT     OF     BRISTOL-MYERS  **l? 


the  lotion  with  the  "beforehand" extra. 


Bing  Crosby's  first  guests  of  the  season  on  his  ABC. 
Wednesday  night  show  were  his  four  singing  sons:  Gar> 
beside    his    father,    Phillip,    Lindsay,    Dennis    in    front. 


^irsssss 


By  DUKE  ELLINGTON 

whose  disc-show  is  on  WLOW- 
Norfolk,  WFIL-Phila.,  KALL-Salt 
Lake    City,    and    other    stations. 


;"  Old  friends  and  co-work- 

ers on  the  Supper  Club,  con- 
ductor Paul  Weston  and  singer  Jo 
Stafford  share  a  pre-program  laugh. 


10 


PROBABLY  "20th-century  Gabriel"  Erskine 
Hawkins'  youngest  press  agent  is  his  small. 
nephew,  son  of  the  "Hawk's"  sister,  who  lives  in 
Springfield,  Ohio.  Playing  a  one-nighter  in  that 
town  recently,  the  trumpeter  was  mystified  by  the 
cross-examination  his  small-fry  nephew  put  him 
through.  Having  hit  town  only  the  day  before,  he 
was  a  little  surprised  when  the  kid  asked:  "When 
are  you  leaving,  Unk  Erskine?"  "Hawk"  replied  that 
he  was  moving  on  that  same  afternoon  and  was  a 
little  taken  aback  by  the  obvious  relief  on  the  young- 
ster's face.  "Why  do  you  want  to  know?"  he  asked. 
"Because  I  told  the  kid  next  door  my  uncle  could 
beat  up  his  uncle  any  time,"  the  boy  answered.  The 
"Hawk"  did  a  double-take  when  it  turned  out  that 
the  uncle  of  the  kid  next  door  is  none  other  than  the 
Brown  Bomber  from  Detroit — Joe  Louis! 


Lena  Home  has  a  terrific  protege,  non-musical 
but  definitely  artistic.  He's  Edmund  Kara,  a  young 
fellow  barely  out  of  his  teens  who  taught  her  to 
paint  so  well  that  her  finished  portrait  was  sold 
at  a  charity  auction  for  three  thousand  dollars.  He 
also  did  such  a  fine  job  of  decorating  her  Hollywood 
home  that  it's  become  a  showplace.  And,  as  if  to 
prove  that  nothing  creative  is  beyond  him,  Kara  also 


The  Treasury  Dept.  knows  its 
staff:  it's  keeping  Lionel  Hamp- 
ton on  the  MBS  Treasury  show. 


Shoulder  to  shoulder:  bandleader  Dick  Jurgens  (1.), 
and  manager-brother  Will  add  Will's  wife  Bettie  to  the 
family.    All  three  did  wartime  service  with  the  Marines. 


designed  all  of  the  breathtaking  gowns  which  Lena 
wears  during  her  current  sensational  engagement  at 
Monte  Proser's  Copacabana  in  New  York. 


Talk  about  salesmanship!  Following  his  engage- 
ment at  the  Peabody  Hotel  in  Memphis,  during 
which  he  shattered  every  record  for  that  great  old 
hostelry,  Elliot  Lawrence  became  the  rage  of  the 
South.  The  Roosevelt  Hotel  in  New  Orleans,  deter- 
mined to  have  the  young  maestro  for  the  Christmas- 
New  Year  period,  finally  cinched  the  deal  with  an 
offer  which  is  definitely  unique  in  one  respect.  A 
clause  in  the  contract  guarantees  the  entire  band 
seats  on  the  50-yard  line  for  the  famed  Sugar  Bowl 
football  game! 


Lots  of  folks  are  always  laying  claim  to  "discover- 
ing" or  "launching"  this  or  that  star,  but  few  can 
prove  that  claim  as  readily  as  Eddie  Cantor.  The 
lovable,  pop-eyed  comedian  gave  Dinah  Shore  her 
big  chance  on  his  radio  show  years  ago,  and  today 
Dinah  shares  starring  honors  with  Eddie  on  their 
Friday  night  NBC  show — and  nobody  seems  to  get 
a  bigger  kick  out  of  the  song  star's  climb  to  the  top 
than  the  fellow  who  actually  "launched"  her. 


Margo  Whiteman,  teen- 
age daughter  of  Paul  White- 
man,  gets  a  "Be  good,  now"  kiss 
from  Pops  as  she  goes  off  to  keep  a  date. 


11 


"Colgate  Dental  Cream's  active  penetrating 
foam  gets  into  hidden  crevices  between  teeth 
— helps  clean  out  decaying  food  particles — 
stop  stagnant  saliva  odors — remove  the  cause 
of  much  bad  breath.  And  Colgate's  soft  pol- 
ishing agent  cleans  enamel  thoroughly, 
gently  and  safely!" 


LATER-Thanks  to  Colgate  Dental  Cream 


12 


Always  use  COLGATE  DENTAL  CREAM 

offer  you  car  and  before  every  date 


As  usual,  Frances  Langford's  new  releases  are  perfect. 


By  Joe  Martin 


DANCING  OR  LISTENING 

BILLY  BUTTERFIELD  (Capitol)— Although  Billy  is  busily  engaged  these  days  in 
commuting  between  Nick's  in  Greenwich  Village  and  the  New  York  radio  studios,  it's 
good  to  be  reminded  that  he  had  a  fine  big  band  in  pre-ban  days.  His  trumpet  is  featured 
on  both  "Wild  Oats"  and  "What's  New." 

EVELYN  MACGREGOR  (Seva)— Accompanied  by  Whitey  Bernard's  Three  Kings,  Miss 
MacGregor  sings  "The  Silver  Shenandoah"  and  "Someone  As  Sweet  As  You."  You  should 
like  these  clean  interpretations  of  fair  tunes. 

HELEN  FORREST  (MGM)— "What  Did  I  Do"  from  the  motion  picture  "When  My 
Baby  Smiles  At  Me"  is  one  of  the  finest  words  and  music  combinations  to  have  emerged 
in  oh-so-long.  "I  Love  You  Much  Too  Much"  is  a  melody  that  will  be  very  familiar  to 
you. 

FRANK  SINATRA  (Columbia) — Two  oldies  make  a  fine  pairing  for  Frank  this  month. 
Victor  Herbert's  "Kiss  Me  Again"  isn't  as  good  as  "My  Melancholy  Baby" — or  is  it  the 
other  way  around? 

LEONARD  WARREN  (RCA  Victor)— The  robust  baritone  voice  of  Mr.  Warren  paired 
with  two  good  old  sea  chanties  is  the  perfect  mating,  mate.  "Blow  The  Man  Down"  and 
"The  Drunken  Sailor"  are  wonderfully  done. 

RED  INGLE  (Capitol) — The  full  and  complete  title  of  Red's  most  recent  bit  of  uproar- 
ious hokum  is  "Seratun  Yob"  (A  Song  For  Backward  Boys  and  Girls  Under  40)  !  The 
label  also  says  "based  on  Nature  Boy."  It  should  have  said  debased  Nature  Boy.  It's 
absolutely  terrific.    No  comment  on  "Oh!  Nick-O-Deemo,"  the  reverse  side. 

ORRIN  TUCKER  (Mercury)— This  is  Orrin  without  Bonnie  Baker.  Orrin  himself 
handles  the  vocal  duties  on  "Little  Girl"  and  "The  Moon  Is  Always  Bigger  On  A 
Saturday  Night."    Both  quite  danceable  sides. 

FRANCES  LANGFORD  (Mercury)— Mrs.  Jon  Hall  does  right  well  by  a  couple  of  ballads 
called  "You  Belong  To  My  Heart"  and  "May  I  Still  Hold  You."  Earle  Hagen's 
orchestra  accompanies  her  on  "May  I."    The  reverse  is  "You  Belong." 

PERRY  COMO  (RCA  Victor)— It's  a  slow,  bouncy  tempo  for  Perry  on  "When  You're 
Smiling"  and  the  ballad  tempo  for  "My  Melancholy  Baby."  This  Como  fellow  is 
certainly  a  fine  song  salesman.    This  is  one  of  the  best  of  the  recent  record  releases. 

*  *  * 

ALBUM  ARTISTRY 

HORTON  HATCHES  THE  EGG  (MGM)— Obviously,  this  was  meant  to  be  a  children's 
album,  but  the  combination  of  a  Dr.  Seuss  story,  Marvin  Miller  narration  and  Del 
Castillo  music,  makes  this  two-record  album  on  unbreakable  Metrolite  an  adult's  album 
too. 

DORSEY'S  CLAMBAKE  SEVEN  (RCA  Victor)— Tommy  Dorsey's  Dixieland  group  is 
brought  back  to  life  with  the  issue  of  this  album  of  the  old  favorites  dating  back  to  the 
days  when  T.D.'s  band  boasted  of  such  stars  as  Edythe  Wright,  Bud  Freeman,  Dave 
Tough  and  Johnny  Mince.  Remember  a  craze  called  "The  Music  Goes  Round  and 
Round?"    It's  in  this  package. 

CHOPIN— RAY  TURNER  (Capitol) — In  addition  to  its  value  as  a  collection  of  excellent 
piano  solos  of  some  of  the  great  master's  finest  works  this  album  can  serve  the 
important  purpose  of  proving  to  little  Sister  or  Junior  that  practicing  will  eventually 
result  in  this  kind  of  sound.  This  is  the  kind  of  Chopin  that  will  impress  even  the 
"heppest"  jazz  fan. 


Collectors  d 


orner 


By  Denny   Dennis 

(At  the  time  when  Americans  were 
swooning  over  Sinatra  and  Como,  the 
English  were  reacting  in  much  the  same 
way  to  Denny  Dennis.  When  his  first 
London  Record  was  issued  in  the 
United  States,  Tommy  Dorsey  realized 
that  here  was  a  great  new  voice.  Tommy 
cabled  Denny  immediately  and  now 
Denny's  platters  are  selling  faster  each 
day,  while  he  travels  the  country  with 
Tommy  Dorsey' s  great  new  band.) 

Realizing  that  this  may  sound  com- 
pletely out  of  character,  I  must  confess 
that  a  good  part  of  my  record  collec- 
tion consists  of  march  records.  It  may 
be  that  my  five-year  hitch  in  the  ser- 
vices left  a  permanent  mark  on  my 
musical  likes — or  it  may  be  that  I've 
always  wanted  to  be  a  drummer.  What- 
ever the  cause,  the  result  has  been  a 
collection  of  discs  in  four-four  time. 

So  then,  I've  taken  the  liberty  of  list- 
ing ten  of  my  favorite  march  albums  or 
records.  If  they  don't  seem  to  agree 
with  your  favorites,  just  bear  in  mind 
that  collecting  records  in  England  is 
just  a  little  more  difficult  than  collect- 
ing them  here  in  the  United  States. 

1.  The  March  from  "The  Love  of 
Three  Oranges"  by  Prokofieff  played  by 
the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra  under 
Serge  Koussevitzky   (RCA  Victor). 

2.  "Colonel  Bogey"  played  by  The 
Band  Of  H.  M.  Irish  Guards  (London). 

3.  "March  Of  The  Toys"  from  Victor 
Herbert's  "Babes  In  Toyland"  played 
by  Andre  Kostelanetz  and  his  Orches- 
tra (Columbia). 

4.  John  Philip  Sousa's  "King  Cotton 
March"  played  by  the  Edwin  Franko 
Goldman  Band   (RCA  Victor). 

5.  Tchaikovsky's  "Marche  Slav"  as 
played  by  the  Cleveland  Symphony 
Orchestra  under  the  leadership  of  Ar- 
tur  Rodzinski  (Columbia). 

6.  The  Vienna  Philharmonic  record- 
ing on  Telefunken  Records  (German) 
of  Johann  Strauss'  "Egyptian  March 
Op.  235."  Clemens  Krauss  conducts  the 
orchestra. 

7.  The  "Notre  Dame  Victory  March" 
as  played  by  the  Notre  Dame  Uni- 
versity Band   (RCA  Victor). 

8.  "Pomp  and  Circumstance  March 
No.  1"  by  Sir  Edward  Elgar,  played 
by  the  London  Symphony  Orchestra 
under  Warwick  Braithwaite   (London). 

9.  "American  Patrol"  by  the  Glenn 
Miller  Orchestra  (RCA  Victor). 

10.  "Stars  And  Stripes  Forever"  by 
the  Goldman  Band   (Columbia). 


ringing  for  more  ! 


Little— but  with  big  ideas  about  the  foods  she  likes! 
She  proves  it  by  the  way  she  goes  for  those  good-tasting 
Gerber's!   From  the  flavorful  Cereals  through  delicious 
Vegetables,  Fruits,  Meat-combinations  and  Desserts,  Gerber's 
seem  to  taste  better  to  tots ! 

Even  spinach  rates  a  call  for  "seconds."  Mothers  call 

for  more  Gerber's,  too.  They  know  what  scrupulous  care 
goes  into  the  selection  and  preparation  of  Gerber's.  They  know 
that  baby  benefits  by  Gerber's  special  processing  and 
cooking  in  order  to  retain  the  highest  nutritional  values. 

Count  On  less  leftovers  with  those  good-tasting  Gerber's 
that  doctors  approve.  When  baby  graduates  from  Strained 
to  Junior  Foods,  tempting,  easy-to-chew  Gerber's  make 
the  going  easier.  Same  size  container— same  low  price. 


Now... 


ARMOUR 


Beef!  Veal!  Liver! 


Gerber's  Strained  and  Junior  Meats  come  in  3V2  ounce 
containers  — at  one  price.  Naturally,  this  is  higher  than 
Gerber's  other  Strained  and  Junior  Foods.  These  also 
come  in  one  size  container  at  one  low  price. 


erber's 

BABY    FOODS 

FKMONT.  *UOt  OAKLAND.  CAL 


3  Cereals     •     20  Strained  Food*     •      15  Junior  Foods     •     3  Strained  Meats     •     3  Junior  Meats 


R 

M 

13 


Time  out  for  coffee,  during  Sam  Spade  rehearsals, 
for  star  Howard  Duff  and  Lurene  Tuttle,  his  Effie. 


Bob  Hope  sneaks  in  a  few  practice  swings 
before  joining  the  rest  of  his  foursome. 


Situation     out    of    hand:      Uncle    Louie 
(Frank  Dane)  on  NBC's  Meet  The  Meeks. 


%UUr 


VT  OT  sure  why,  but  advertising  agency  control  of 
j\;  radio  shows  is  at  the  lowest  ebb  in  fifteen  years. 
I"  With  CBS  way  out  in  the  lead,  the  networks  are 
taking  program  creation  right  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  "hucksters"  and  building  more  and  more  of  their 
own  shows.  Maybe  this  will  give  listeners  a  chance 
to  register  their  preferences  directly,  through  letters 
to  the  stations,  instead  of  indirectly  via  increased 
sales  of  a  product  which  may  or  may  not  be  due  to 

approval  of  a  program. 

*  *         * 

Money  isn't  everything  department  .  .  .  Take  It  or 
Leave  It,  which  made  the  $64  question  a  household 
word,    has   topped   Stop    the    Music   in   the   Hooper 
rating,   although   Stop   the   Music   gives   its   jackpot  . 
winner  everything  including  the  kitchen  sink. 

*  *         * 

Signs  of  the  times  ...  A  number  of  radio  stars  are 
doubling  between  their  own  shows  and  featured  ap- 
pearances on  other  programs.  Could  be  because 
salaries  ain't  what  they  used  to  be. 

*  *         * 

Seems  to  us  that  producers  of  radio  programs 
angled  at  kids  could  take  a  tip  from  television's 
Small  Fry  Club.  There's  been  a  lot  of  back  and 
forth  chatter  about  whether  hair-raising  adventure 
strips  are  fit  for  young  ears,  but  very  few  people 
in  radio  have  done  much  about  finding  some  other 
form  of  entertainment  for  the  kids.  On  the  Small 
Fry  Club  they  have  a  gimmick  that  could  be  useful 
to  really  interested  programmers.  Small  Fry  has  a 
puppet  named  Pirro,  which  represents  child  curiosity. 
He    investigates    alarm    clocks,     vacuum     cleaners, 


Kenny    Delmar     (on    Fred    Allen's    right)     is    the    first    to    answer    the    question    on   current   issues    during    one   of   Fred's 
Sunday  night   trips   through   Allen's   Alley.    Awaiting   their  turns    are   Minerva   Pious,   Peter   Donald,   and   Parker   Fennelly. 


mirrors,  telephones,  electric  lights  and  any  other 
gadgets  that  mystify  and  intrigue  youngsters.  In  fact, 
the  kids  write  in  and  suggest  things  for  Pirro  to 
explore.  And,  while  Pirro  takes  these  things  apart 
and  finds  out  what  makes  them  tick,  the  kids  are 
getting  basic  lessons  in  elementary  science — the  easy 
and  most  stick-in-the-head  way. 

*  *         * 

Some  time  ago  we  reported  that  we'd  heard  that 
there  were  plans  being  made  to  install  radio  receiving 
sets  in  Detroit  buses.  Okay.  They  did  it  and  pulled 
in  an  avalanche  of  protesting  letters.  Most  of  the 
complaints  objected  to  the  use  of  transportation 
money  for  such  purposes  rather  than  for  improve- 
ments in  services  and  vehicles.  And  who  can  say 
they  were  wrong? 

*  *         * 

Everett  Sloane,  who  plays  the  role  of  Arthur  Drake 
in  This  Is  Nora  Drake,  has  been  temporarily  replaced 
in  the  part  by  Ralph  Bell.  Sloane  is  in  Rome  work- 
ing in  the  movie  "Prince  of  Foxes,"  which  is  being 
produced  there  by  Darryl  Zanuck. 

*  *         * 

Amos  'n'  Andy  have  started  a  new  kind  of  deal  in 
radio.  Their  contract  sells  their  services  outright  to 
the  CBS  network  for  a  cool  two  million  dollars  and 
the  network  makes  back  its  dough  by  lend-leasing 
the  comics  to  a  sponsor. 

*  #         * 

We  were  recently  told  that  Frances  Dexter,  assis- 
tant director  of  the  Superman  series,  has  not  missed 
a  broadcast  in  five  years.  Since  Superman  is  a  five- 
times-a-weeker,  this  is  the   (Continued  on  page  24) 


- 


Senator  Ford,  Harry  Hershfield  and  Joe 
Laurie  Jr.  about  to  become  a  jungle  din- 
ner in  their  movie,  which  is  called — like 
their    NBC    show— "Can    You    Top    This?" 


Mrs.  Victoria  Corey,  KDKA's  Educational  Director,  goes 
over  a   script  with  actors  from   The   School  Of  The  Air. 


TO  THE  three  "Rs"  of  the  Little  Red  School  House  days 
another  has  been  added — one  for  Radio  which  is 
typified  in  KDKA's  School  of  the  Air. 

Originally  designed  for  Pittsburgh  schools  when  it 
began  September  17,  1945,  the  KDKA  public  service 
feature  has  grown  until  it  is  today  being  used  by  public 
grade  and  high  schools,  parochial  and  independent  school 
systems  in  Western  Pennsylvania,  Ohio  and  West  Vir- 
ginia, as  well  as  colleges  and  other  radio  stations. 

An  academic  innovation  in  the  school  systems,  the  edu- 
cational series  establishes  a  concrete  link  between  radio 
and  the  classroom.  Specifically  designed  to  supplement 
classroom  instruction,  the  KDKA  School  of  the  Air  is 
required  listening  each  Monday  through  Friday  at  9:45 
o'clock.  Where  it  is  impossible  for  the  students  to  listen 
at  that  time,  programs   are  transcribed  for  later  use. 

Mrs.  Victoria  Corey,  the  station's  educational  director, 
heads  the  planning  committee  which  is  composed  of 
leading  educators  of  the  area.  Special  teachers'  hand- 
books are  prepared  by  the  station  for  the  use  of  the 
teachers,  and  teachers  themselves  prepare  script  out- 
lines. Scripts  are  written  by  Arlene  Jack  of  KDKA's 
continuity  department,  with  Lionel  Poulton  in  charge 
of  production. 

The  same  day  each  week  is  devoted  to  a  particular 
classroom  course  and  the  immediate  program  is  based 
on  the  current  textbook  lessons.  The  schedule  for  the 
week  is  as  follows:  Mondays,  geography;  Tuesdays,  con- 
sumer education;  Wednesdays,  music  and  literature; 
Thursdays,  nature  study  and  Fridays,  social  studies  in 
other  lands. 

New  to  KDKA's  School  of  the  Air  this  year  are  the 
Tuesday  and  Friday  broadcasts.  On  Tuesdays,  the  pro- 
gram is  devoted  to  a  home  economics  series  for  the 
Junior-Senior  high  school  students  and  homemakers 
which  teaches  them  how  to  run  their  own  homes.  The 
course  covers  the  field  completely  from  preparing 
budgets  to  making  slip   covers. 

The  new  Friday  broadcasts  have  an  international 
flavor.  With  Understanding  One  World  as  the  specific 
title,  the  series  consists  of  transcribed  portions  from 
various  foreign  countries,  followed  by  a  discussion  in 
which  four  boys  and  girls,  each  representing  a  local 
high  school,  participate.  Whenever  possible,  an  exchange 
student  from  the  country  under  discussion  is  asked  to 
take  part  in  the  broadcast. 

In  addition  to  the  School  of  the  Air,  Mrs.  Corey 
conducts  a  Teachers'  Workshop  in  the  studios  where 
teachers  are  trained  in  the  fundamentals  of  radio  writing 
and  production  so  that  they  can  assist  in  preparing 
School  of  the  Air  programs.  Talent  used  both  on  the 
broadcasts  and  on  the  workshop  productions  is  secured 
from  the  schools  the  teachers  represent. 


The  School  Of  The  Air  is  required  listening  Mon.-Fri.  at  9:45  A.M.    The  broadcast  is  followed  by  a  period  of  classroom  discussion. 


16 


DIAMONDS     BY     JOHN      RUBEL 


NAIL  BRILLIANCE 
BY  CUTEX 


Luxurv-loving  women  are  finding  so  many  glamour-extras  in  new    Nail 

Brilliance!  You  will,  too,  and  all  for  a  low  -r>£\* 

Perfiime-tvpe  bottle,  steady  based,  with  beautifully  balanced  artist-type 
brush.  Dream-come-true  near.  Defies  peeling  or  chipping.  II  onderful purity. 
Free  from  all  irritating  substances.  Even  women  whose  sensitive  skins  are 
allergic  to  other  polishes  can  use  Nail  Brilliance  with  perfect  safety.  Ten 
fashion-show  shades  that  stay  dazzling,  never  turn  dull. 

Try  Color-keved  Cutex  Lipsticks,  too —  created  to  blend  perfectly  with 
each  Nail  Brilliance  shade.  So  creamy!  So  clinging!  Large  size,  49p.* 


THE  ASPIRIN  TABLET 
THAT  SOLVED 


CHILD  DOSAGE  PROBLEMS 


•RALPH  BELL- 


X  % 


y  Eliminates  Tablet  Cutting 
y'  Assures  Correct  Dosage 
y  Easy  to  Give 
y~  Easy  to  Take 


*  ASPIRIN 
f0&  CHHDREN 


1 


Vou  can  always  be 
sure  of  the  quality 
guaranteed  by  the 
name  —  "St.  Joseph" 


ORANGE  FUws 


OT.  JOSEPH  ASPIRIN  FOR 
CHILDREN  is  enjoying  the  confidence 
of  mothers  everywhere.  It's  the 
answer  to  their  long  expressed  wish 
for  an  aspirin  made  just  for  children! 
Yes,  ST.  JOSEPH  ASPIRIN  FOR 
CHILDREN,  the  first  nationally  ad- 
vertised aspirin  made  especially  for 
children,  eliminates  child  dosage 
problems.  Mother,  you  no  longer 
have  to  cut  or  break  regular  aspirin 

tablets.  ST.  JOSEPH  ASPIRIN  FOR  CHILDREN  contains 
l/€  grains  of  aspirin— ]4,  of  the  usual  5-grain  adult  tablet— 
which  assures  accurate  dosage.  Your  child  will  like  the 
orange  flavor.  50  tablets,  35^.  Buy  a  package  today,  mother. 


18 


ST.JOSEPH 
*  ASPIRIN  * 
FOR  CHILDREN 


'fJH^. 


-  "~~A'>. ;:%',., 


Made  by  the  makers  of 

St.  Joseph    Aspirin 

World's  Largest  Seller  at  lOi'- 


On  NBC  at  11  A.M.,  CBS  at  2:30 
P.M.,    in    This    Is    Nora    Drake. 


B 


)A\CK  in  September,  Ralph  Bell  re 
placed  Everett  Sloane  in  the  role 
of  Arthur  Drake  on  This  Is  Nora 
Drake,  a  show  distinguished  by  being 
heard  on  both  NBC  and  CBS  networks 
daily— NBC  at  11  A.M.  and  CBS  at  2:30 
P.M.,  EST.  Adding  this  stint  to  his 
others  makes  Bell's  air  schedule  read 
almost  like  the  daily  newspaper  listing 
of  radio  shows.  For  besides  his  Nora 
Drake  assignment  Mr.  Bell  has  leading 
roles  on  some  nine  or  ten  programs, 
among  them  such  well  known  standbys 
as  Right  to  Happiness,  Gangbusters, 
Counterspy,  Evelyn  Winters,  Lorenzo 
Jones  and  Mr.  District  Attorney.  In 
most  of  these  shows,  Ralph  Bell  spe- 
cializes in  tough  guy  roles.  The  Nora 
Drake  stanza  calls  for  the  portrayal  of 
a  mild-mannered,  elderly  gentleman 
and  it's  to  Bell's  credit  that  he  can  get 
this  quality  into  his  voice,  since  his 
personal  characteristics  are  youthful- 
ness,  exuberance,  friendliness. 

Ralph  Bell  is  a  young  man  who  has 
been  dedicated  to  acting  and  the  theater 
for  as  long  as  he  can  remember.  He  was 
born  in  1916  in  New  Jersey  and  grew 
up  in  Hackensack.  He  remembers  his 
childhood  as  having  been  very  happy, 
in  itself  a  rather  unusual  thing.  Ralph 
went  to  the  University  of  Michigan, 
where  he  majored  in  English.  Of  course, 
a  great  part  of  his  time  was  spent  in  the 
Drama  School  there.  He  acquitted  him- 
self so  well  that  on  his  graduation  in 
1937,  he  was  offered  a  job  teaching 
drama  and  play  production  at  his  alma 
mater.  Well,  it  was  a  job,  what's  more 
a  job  in  his  chosen  field,  and  he  took  it 
for  a  year. 

After  a  year,  he  felt  he'd  gathered 
enough  experience  to  put  it  to  practical 
use.  He  moved  to  New  York  and  very 
soon  found  jobs  in  Broadway  shows,. 
His  success  was  rapid.  He  starred  in 
George  Abbott's  "What  a  Life,"  the  play 
that  later  grew  into  the  radio  Aldrich 
Family  program,  in  which  Bell  later 
worked  often,  too.  He  also  starred  in 
"Native  Son"  and  has  worked  with  such 
famous  theater  names  as  Dorothy  Gish. 
Louis  Calhern,  Ezra  Stone  and  Milton 
Berle. 

In  private  life,  he's  a  suburbanite, 
with  a  house  in  Flushing,  Long  Island. 
He  is  married  to  Pert  Kelton,  who  is 
familiar  to  radio  listeners  in  her  own 
right.  They  have  two  sons,  one  three 
and  a  half,  the  other  a  year  and  a  half. 


wJXkm 


l^SwMf 


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Slightlli  Higher 
ill  the   Went 
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FREE  Moth  Insurance  Policy,  written  by  one  of  the  world's  largest  insurance  companies,  goes  with  every  Lane  Cedar  Chest. 


The  Gift  that 


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Starts  the  Home  I       mill 


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Your  First  Cake  of  Camay 
brings  a  softer,  smoother  skin ! 

MRS.  RUSSELL  FLAGG  GREER,  this  beautiful  Camay 
bride,  says:  "Go  on  the  Camay  Mild-Soap  Diet 
for  a  really  lovelier  skin!  My  very  first  cake 
helped  make  my  skin  clearer  and   smoother." 


Sally  Work  talks  directly  to  her 
audience;  knows  whereof  she 
speaks.  Below:  with  WBEN-TV's 
Joseph  Jenkins  at  an  experiment- 
ally-televised  sportsmen's   show. 


SUCCESS  on  a  woman's  radio  program  means  two 
things  to  WBEN's  Sally  Work— First:  Talking  di- 
rectly to  her  audience,  never  over  their  heads.  Sec- 
ond: Knowing  whereof  she  speaks,  by  living  it  herself. 
Sally's  success  is  measured  by  a  history  on  the  air  dating 
back  to  1926,  by  a  current  group  of  15  sponsors,  by  a 
long  waiting  list  of  would-be  sponsors  and  by  a  faithful 
following  of  women  fans  in  the  Buffalo  station's  listen- 
ing-area. Her  half -hour  (1:30-2:00  P.M.)  Monday-Fri- 
day program,  beamed  directly  toward  women,  deals,  in 
Sally's  words,  "with  everything  we  think  they'll  be 
interested  in  from  politics  to  the  care  of  babies.  It  is 
not  so  much  entertaining  as  informative  .  .  .  we  tell 
about  advertised  products  as  painlessly  as  possible." 
Sally  was  one  of  half-a-dozen  women  broadcasters  who 
antedated  the  networks  with  a  network-type  show.  She 
started  radio  work  at  WGR  in  1926  on  what  she  be- 
lieves to  have  been  the  first  woman's  advertising  pro- 
gram of  the  participating  type.  That  was  a  sideline  for 
her  newspaper  work  as  women's  editor  for  the  now- 
defunct  Buffalo  Times. 

In  1928,  Frank  McCormick,  an  advertising  man  on  the 
Times,  was  talking  with  E.  C.  Rainor  of  Chicago.  Rainor 
wanted  an  identical  radio  show  aired  at  the  same  hour 
daily  by  women  in  different  cities — that's  where  ante- 
dating the  networks  came  in.  Each  woman  was  to 
broadcast  under  the  name  of  "Work."  Of  the  women 
who  started  this  program,  Sally  is  the  only  one  who  has 
stuck  to  the  original  name. 

Sally  Work  made  her  aerial  bow  as  such  from  WMAK. 
When  this  contract  expired,  after  a  year  or  so,  WMAK 
asked  Sally  to  continue  and,  as  a  sideline,  she  did  so, 
writing  her  own  copy.  When  the  Times  was  sold  to 
Scripps-Howard,  Sally  went  to  The  Buffalo  Evening 
News  as  its  first  woman's  editor.  As  soon  as  a  woman's 
program  was  established  on  the  new  WBEN,  she  went 
there  in  September,  1932,  as  Sally  Work,  writing  and 
producing  her  own  material,  "with  the  great  privilege 
of  accepting  only  the  things  she  believes  in." 

On  her  1:30  P.M.  daily  offering,  Sally  works  in  each 


sponsor  two  to  three  times  weekly — some  of  them  daily. 
E.  W.  Edward's  &  Son  has  been  backing  her  for  almost 
ten  years,  since  it  opened  its  new  department  store; 
Ellsworth  Shoe  Store  has  had  a  daily  place  on  her  half- 
hour  for  seven  years. 

She  and  her  husband,  Mr.  W.  Nelson  Wilkinson,  a 
retired  newspaperman,  are  building  a  home  on  the 
Canadian  side  of  the  Niagara  Frontier. 

During  the  war,  when  Sally  reminded  her  listeners  to 
write  to  servicemen,  she  was  speaking  as  the  mother  of 
Warren  Wilkinson.  A  second  son,  Murray,  has  two 
children,  Mark,  5  years,  and  Ann,  14  months.  Maybe 
that's  where  Sally  gets  some  of  the  audience  "feel" 
which  leads  her  to  believe  most  of  her  appeal  is  to 
mothers  and  homemakers. 

Born  in  Toronto,  she  got  her  formal  schooling  there, 
from  kindergarten  to  the  University  of  Toronto.  Her 
favorite  hobbies  are  swimming  and  horseback  riding  but 
Sally  also  has  wheeled  many  a  full  barrow  to  help  her 
husband  in  the  making  of  his  beautiful  garden.  On  the 
Board  of  Directors  of  the  Association  of  Women  Broad- 
casters, she  voluntarily  teaches  beginners'  classes  in  the 
Buffalo  League  of  Advertising  Women  and  speaks  at 
Women's  Club  meetings. 


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NEW  BEAUTY  FOR  EYELASHESI 

*  Vase  line'1  Eyebrow-Eyelash 
Cream  sweeps  your  lashes 
with  silken  gloss  .  .  .  makes 

them  seem  longer  .  .  .  without 
a  smudgy,  artificial  look! 

NEW  NEATNESS  FOR  EYEBROWSI 

Shape  your  brows  to  a 
cleaner,  crisper,  neater  line 
with  Eyebrow-Eyelash 
Cream — and  add  an 

appealing  satiny  gloss. 

NEW  ALLURE  FOR  EYELIDSI 

Just  a  touch  of  this  fragrant, 
non-coloring  cream  on  your 
eyelids  does  so  much  .  .  . 

makes  eyes  look  deeper, 
dreamier,  softer. 


WOULD  YOU  MOW  THE  LAWN? 
Radio  Mirror's  Best  Letter  of  the  Month 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Although  we  grew  up  in  an  unusually 
close-knit  and  affectionate  family,  my 
two  brothers  and  I  indulged  in  child- 
hood's normal  share  of  silly  quarrels 
and  selfish  actions.  We  were  all  espe- 
cially determined  not  to  be  imposed 
upon  and  although  we  performed  our 
allotted  household  tasks  willingly 
enough,  no  one  of  us  would  have 
dreamed  of  doing  the  other  fellow's 
job  for  him. 

One  night,  in  a  particularly  affection- 
ate— and  boastful — mood,  my  older 
brother,  then  fourteen,  declared  expan- 
sively that  if  he  were  ever  given  the 
opportunity,  he  would  gladly  give  up 
one  of  his  eyes  to  save  either  my 
brother  or  me  from  blindness,  cut  off 
his  arm  if  it  would  save  ours,  or  per- 
form a  number  of  other  heroic  deeds. 
My  father  listened  gravely;  then  in  his 
quiet,  right-to-the-point  manner  asked, 
"But,  Steve,  would  you  also  mow  the 
lawn  for  your  brother  or  sister?" 

At  the  time  we  thought  this  a  huge 
joke,  but  now,  after  fifteen  years,  Dad's 
remark  stays  with  me  and  I  see  its 
real  significance.  I  would  gladly  give 
my  life  for  my  little  daughter  or  won- 
derful husband,  but  "would  I  mow  the 
lawn  for  them?" 

When  I  think  I'm  too  tired  to  say 
"yes"  to  some  childish  request  or  to 
make  that  special  cake  my  husband  is 
perpetually  yearning  for,  I  remind  my- 
self it  is  the  little  daily  favors  done  in 
a  loving  spirit  that  mean  more  to  a 
happy  home  life  than  all  the  heroic 
intentions  in  the  world.  A  mutual  will- 
ingness to  "mow  the  lawn"  has,  indeed, 
made  our  married  life  more  beautiful. 

Mrs.  B.  R.  G. 

The    ten-dollar    letters    follow: 

PRETTIEST   SCHOOLGIRL 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Twelve  years  ago  I  married  a  farmer 
and  left  the  city  where  I  had  been 
teaching.  Since  Jim  had  a  hired  couple 
to  help  on  the  farm,  I  accepted  a  posi- 
tion at  the  small,  rural  school  near-by. 

On  my  first  day  at  school,  my  heart 
was  torn  by  the  sight  of  a  tiny  girl  in 
the  second  grade,  exquisite  in  every 
way    but    marred    by    a    hideous    scar 


which    completely    covered    her    left 
cheek. 

As  she  grew  older,  consciousness  of 
her  deformity  made  her  withdrawn 
and  unhappy.  She  tried  every  kind  of 
cream,  but  none  helped.  Her  parents 
took  her  to  a  doctor,  but  found  that 
plastic  surgery  was  beyond  their  small 
income. 

One  day  I  noticed  a  contest  for  "New 
England's  Prettiest  Schoolgirl."  Aman- 
da was  beautiful  in  profile.  Her  hair 
was  a  mass  of  blond  curls  and  every 
feature  was  perfect. 

We  took  dozens  of  pictures  of  her — 
swinging  her  school  books,  sitting  at 
her  desk — but  always  in  profile.  Aman- 
da won.  With  her  prize  money  and 
with  the  money  her  parents  had  saved, 
Amanda  had  her  operation. 

If  you  could  see  her  now,  doing  her 
best  to  make  others  happy;  if  you  could 
look  into  her  face — her  lovely  face — 
as  she  goes  about  her  duties  as  a  stu- 
dent nurse,  you  would  know  that  for 
Amanda  life  is  truly  beautiful. 

Mrs.  S.  O. 

LIVING    CREATIVELY 

Dear  Papa  David: 

Many  times  during  the  course  of  my 
life,  I  have  wondered  how  there  could 
have  been  any  happiness  possible  for 
me,  a  helpless  cripple.  Like  so  many 
invalids, — at  seventeen  I  was  stricken 
with  a  deadly  rheumatic  disease — I  be- 
came sullen  and  morose.  Hatefully,  I 
availed  myself  of  every  opportunity  to 
create  conflict  in  our  family. 

I  thought  the  very  worst  had  befallen 
me.  Then,  in  a  terrible  accident,  my 
beloved  parents  and  little  sister  were 
killed  and  my  face  became  horribly 
scarred.  For  awhile,  as  I  hung  in  that 
awful  abyss  between  life  and  death, 
my  only  thought  was  of  suicide. 

At  length  I  took  stock  of  myself  and 
in  an  effort  to  find  myself  again,  began 
to  study.  I  read  during  all  my  waking 
hours  and  when  the  pain  of  knowing 
myself  as  a  useless  human  being  would 
come,  I  would  again  find  solace  in  books. 

After  living  nearly  five  years  as  a 
recluse,  I  learned  of  a  position  as  com- 
panion at  a  small  sanatorium  for  blind 
invalids.  After  making  inquiries,  I 
learned  that  a  general  knowledge  of 
psychology  was  required.  Again  I 
turned  to  books  for  help,  and  was  able 
to  secure  the  position.  For  the  first  time 
I  became  necessary  to  others. 


22 


Life  Can  Be  Beautiful,  written  by  Carl  Bixby  and  Don  Becker  is  heard  Mon.-Fri.  on  NBC  at  12 


It  was  in  the  sanatorium  I  became 
acquainted  with  the  dearest  person  in 
the  world.  He  is  an  ex-physician  who 
became  blind  and  partly  paralyzed  as 
the  result  of  an  accident.  With  his  gentle 
patience  I  have  learned  that  life  is  in- 
deed beautiful  to  all  who  make  it  so. 

Miss  G.  S.  L. 

THE  LIGHTHOUSE 

Dear  Papa  David: 

One  Friday  night  last  February  I  left 
the  office  depressed  as  usual  by  the 
prospect  of  another  lonely  weekend.  In 
my  eight  years  away  from  home  I  never 
felt  homesick,  except  on  weekends. 
During  the  week  I  devoted  myself 
eagerly  to  my  job,  which  I  love,  but 
on  weekends  I  wanted  to  be  with  my 
family. 

That  night  on  the  subway  I  was  in- 
terestedly thumbing  through  my  news- 
paper when  pictures  of  the  Lighthouse 
Association  for  the  Blind  caught  my  at- 
tention. The  accompanying  article  told 
how  this  association  was  helping  the 
blind  and  ended  with  a  plea  for  volun- 
teers— readers,  teachers,  guides. 

I  had  always  thought  of  the  blind  as 
a  sad  and  depressing  group  so,  because 
I  wanted  company  for  my  own  misery, 
I  called  the  Lighthouse  to  offer  my 
services.  I  was  assigned  as  Sunday 
afternoon  substitute  reader  to  a  blind 
Hindu  professor  from  Calcutta,  India, 
who  was  earning  his  second  Ph.  D.  at 
a  New  York  university. 

When  I  went  up  to  the  Dormitory  for 
the  Blind  that  first  Sunday,  I  went  as 
a  martyr.  But  the  short,  dark,  wavy- 
haired  little  man  who  met  me  so 
astounded  me  with  his  Americanization 
— not  so  much  in  his  dress  but  in  his 
appreciation  of  our  jokes  and  way  of 
living — that  I  soon  forgot  to  be  sorry 
for  myself.  Before  many  Sundays  had 
passed,  his  regular  left  and  I  took  over 
as  his  permanent  reader. 

Then,  one  night,  the  professor  invited 
me  to  dine  with  him  at  an  Indian  res- 
taurant. After  that  we  often  mixed 
business  and  pleasure — dinners  and 
walks  in  the  park  following  our  read- 
ing sessions.  Now,  for  the  first  time 
in  eight  years,  I  look  forward  to  week- 
ends— to  a  stimulating  Sunday  with  a 
lively  companion.  Even  though  I  am 
ashamed  of  my  original  motive  I  be- 
lieve that  had  I  not  taken  the  initial 
step  I  would  have  lost  a  wonderful 
opportunity. 

Miss  E.  N. 


RADIO  MIRROR  OFFERS  $50 
EACH  MONTH  FOR  YOUR  LETTERS 

Somewhere  in  everyone's  life  is  hidden  a 
key  to  happiness.  It  may  be  a  half-forgotten 
friend,  a  period  of  suffering,  an  unimportant 
incident,  which  suddenly  illuminated  the 
whole  meaning  of  life.  If  you  are  treasuring 
such  a  memory,  won't  you  write  to  Papa 
David  about  it?  For  the  letter  he  considers 
best  each  month,  Radio  Mirror  will  pay  fifty 
dollars;  for  each  of  the  others  that  we  have 
room  enough  to  print,  ten  dollars.  No  letters 
can  be  returned.  Address  your  Life  Can  Be 
Beautiful  letter  to  Papa  David,  Radio  Mirror 
Magazine,  205  East  42  Street,  N.  Y.  17,  N.  Y. 


4oon,  PST;  1  P.M.  MST:  2  P.M.  CST;  3  P.M.  EST. 


Are  you  in  the  know  ? 


When  giving  a  party,  which  is  important? 

D   Fancy  refreshments      □    Banishing  the  family      O   Keeping  fhe  guests  busy 


Good  hostessing  doesn't  take  caterer's  chow 
...  or  shooing  Mom  to  the  movies.  Plan 
the  doings.  Have  records  handy.  Provide 
the  "props"  for  games.  At  Christmas,  let 
your  guests  trim  the  tree;  anything  to  keep 
them  busy.  And  should  your  calendar  sud- 


denly betray  you,  turn  to  Kotex,  for  com- 
fort. For  softness  that  holds  its  shape.  Be 
carefree  with  the  new  Kotex  — made  to  stay 
soft  while  you  wear  it.  And  the  bend-as-you- 
please  freedom  that's  yours  with  the  new 
Kotex  Sanitary  Belt.  Adjustable;  all-elastic! 


If  your  back's  blemished, 
what's  best? 

□  A  white  hanky 

□  A  rain  check 
0   A  stole 

Stoles  are  high  fashion  .  .  .  not  meant  for 
hiding  hickeys!  And  you  can't  "un-date" 
at  zero  hour.  To  cover  back  break-outs, 
start  days  ahead  with  antiseptic  — plus  white 
hanky,  pinned  to  shoulderstraps.  Worn 
beneath  school  dresses,  the  medicated  "goo" 
works  while  you  grind!  Never  fret  about 
how  to  conceal  "certain"  outlines.  Kotex 
and  those  flat  pressed  ends  prevent  outlines; 
protect  you  from  the  slightest  whisper! 
Choose  Regular,  Junior  or  Super  Kotex. 


What's  the  jinx  in  this 
jalopy? 

D   The  cuddle  couple 

□  The  boogie  blast 

□  Four's  a  crowd 

Joy  ride?  Uh-uh.  For  here,  say  safety  ex- 
perts, are  the  makings  of  a  crash  landing! 
(See  all  three  answers  above.)  First,  the 
car's  crowded:  bad  for  careful  driving.  The 
raucous  music  adds  more  distraction.  Any- 
way, how  can  a  highway  romeo  keep  his 
mind  on  the  road?  Sharp  gals  take  no  risks. 
Even  of  problem-day  accidents.  And  that's 
why  they  choose  Kotex  .  .  .  because  the 
exclusive  safety  center  of  Kotex  means 
extra  protection.  Extra  confidence! 


More  women  c/?oose  /COTEX 
f/ian  a//  other  san/Yary  napfahs 

3   A&SOR&SNC/ES;  RBG-ULAR,  juh/ox,  SUJ>Cft 


23 


m 


WIN 


absolutely 


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your  dream  house 

FREE... 


Now  you  can  win  the  home  of  your  dreams, 
built  wherever  you  want  it,  absolutely  free. 
For  full  details  and  four-color  photos  of 
the  exciting  new  "dream  house"  contest — 
see  December  PHOTOPLAY. 

Your  dream  house  will  be  an  Industry- 
Engineered  home  provided  by  the  National 
Retail  Lumber  Dealers  Ass'n.,  complete 
with  modern  Ingersoll  kitchen-bath-heating 
utility  unit,  Bruce  hardwood  floors;  Mineral 
Wool  insulation;  colorful  Asphalt  Roofing; 
gleaming  Ponderosa  Pine  woodwork;  beau- 
tifying Gypsum  wall  interiors;  Weyer- 
haeuser lumber. 

PLUS  furnishings  by  Alexander  Smith  Car- 
pet Co.,  Mengel  Furniture  Co.,  Kroehler 
Mfg.  Co.,  Crosley  Radio,  Lane  Cedar  Chest 
Co.,  E-Z-Do  and  Princess  House  closet  ac- 
cessories; Simmons  Co.,  Thor  Corp.,  Go- 
pay  Corp.,  Dan  River  Mills,  Dundee  Mills, 
I.  B.  Kleinert  Rubber  Co.,  United  Wallpaper, 
Apex  Electrical  Mfg.  Co.,  Certified  Lamp 
Makers,  Nutone  Door  Chimes,  Ozite  under- 
rug  rushions,  Bissell  Carpet  Sweeper  Co., 
Dirilyte  Flatware,  Ruzak  Co.,  Royledge  Co., 
Donnelly-Kelley  Glass  Co.,  Proctor  Electric 
Co.,  Pro-Phy-Lac-Tic  Brush  Co.,  Anchor 
Hocking  Glass  Co. 

*       Today — get  your   December  issue  of 

PHOTOPLAY 

for  full  information  and  contest  entry  blank. 


COAS'l    to   COAST 

{Continued  from  page  15) 


equivalent  of   perfect  attendance  at  a 
weekly    show    for    twenty-five    years! 

$  Jt  * 

The  really  big  "Gee  Whiz  of  1948" 
is  disc  jockey  Jim  Hawthorne  in  Holly- 
wood. This  lucky  fellow  went  from  a 
job  at  $85  a  week  at  a  Pasadena  radio 
station,  to  the  ABC  network  a  short 
time  ago,  his  contract  calling  for  $40,000 
a  year  for  five  years.  That  ought  to  take 

care  of  him  very  nicely. 

*  *         • 

That  speedboat  routine  of  Guy  Lom- 
bardo's  isn't  the  only  thing  that  gets 
him  around.  Now  comes  news  that  his 
transcribed  program,  featuring  thirty 
minutes  of  "the  sweetest  music  this  side 
of  heaven,"  has  been  sold  on  Lourenco 
Marques  Radio,  commercial  Portuguese 
East  African  station  beaming  into  South 
Africa.  South  African  citizens  are  now 
listening  to  the  Guy  Lombardo  music 
Sunday  mornings. 

*  *         * 

Look  for  Jimmy  Scribner  in  the  new 
Abbott  and  Costello  pic,  "Africa 
Screams."  Jimmy  is  the  radio  actor  who 
does  the  many  voices  on  The  Johnson 
Family  stanzas  for  Mutual.  In  the 
movie,  he  plays  the  part  of  an  insur- 
ance agent  with  a  one  million  dollar 
policy  on  the  life  of  Mr.  Costello.  He 
follows  the  short,  chunky  comedian  on 
a  safari  through  the  African  jungles — 
to  see  that  nothing  happens  to  make  the 

policy  pay  off. 

*  *         * 

Here's  a  bit  of  interesting  news  you 
may  have  missed  if  you  didn't  catch  the 
particular  Newsreel  broadcast  on 
which  it  was  presented.  In  a  couple  of 
years,  it  was  announced  by  Dr.  James 
M.  Wood,  president  of  the  Women's 
Foundation,  there  will  be  a  college  for 
middle-aged  women  who  are  looking 
for  special  training  that  will  fit  them 
for  useful,  skilled  work.  Dr.  Wood  said 
that  the  Foundation  figures  there  are 
about  15  million  women  in  the  country 
whose  "children  are  grown  and  who 
have  few  things  to  occupy  their  time." 
The  requirements  for  entrance  to  the 
new  college  will  be  a  real  interest  in 
education  and  normal  intelligence.  No 
high  school  diplomas  will  be  necessary 
You  can  probably  get  more  information 

through  the  Women's  Foundation. 

*  •         • 

We  found  out  that  no  matter  how 
much  he  earns,  Andy  Roberts,  vocalist 
for  Skitch  Henderson's  orchestra,  gets 
the  same  old  allowance.  Morton 
Downey,  who  discovered  Roberts,  socks 
away  all  the  rest  in  a  trust  fund  for  his 

protege. 

*  *         * 

GOSSIP  AND  STUFF  .  .  .  Harolrl 
Peary,  The  Great  Gildersleeve,  is  now 
in  his  26th  radio  year  .  .  Alan  Young 
will  replace  Date  With  Judy  when  the 
contract  expires  this  January  . .  .  Rumor 
has  it  that  a  major  radio-tele  firm  is 
working  on  a  device  which  will  convert 
a  radio  into  a  tele  set  when  attached  .  . 
CBS  announcer  Frank  Goss  doing  nar- 
ration jobs  on  preview  films  for  Screen 
Plays,  Inc.  .  .  .  Jack  Carson  and  Dennis 
Morgan  busy  on  another  one  of  their 
"Two  Guys"  flickers  at  Warners  .  .  .  For 
the  ninth  consecutive  year,  Mutual  will 
air  the  Cotton  Bowl  Gridiron  classic  on 
New  Year's  Day  .  .  The  new  video 
package  that  Professor  Quiz  is  selling 
features  him  as  a  magician  rather  than 
quizmaster  .  .  .  Thanks  to  the  efforts  of 


fTlHEY  tell  me  that  home  is  what  you  make  it. 


Well,  I  can't  call  my  home  mine   any    more.    And  I  guess  I  made  it  that  way  the 
day  I  got  the  bright  idea  to  buy  a  television  set. 

Now,  don't  get  me  wrong.  I  wouldn't  part  with  rrfy  television  receiver  for  anything — 
unless  it  were  for  a  bigger  and  better  model.  But  .  .  . 

First  of  all,  my  home  is  not  a  house  in  the  country  or  the  suburbs.  It's  a  four-and-a-half 
room  city  apartment.  I  rented  it  in  the  summer  of  1944  just  a  week  before  our  third  baby 
arrived,  when  it  was  important  to  get  a  roof  over  our  head — and  a  floor  under  our  feet. 
But  that  little  image,  in  some  respects,  had  less  of  an  effect  on  our  lives  than  the  images 
that  arrived  via  our  television  set  when  we  bought  one  six  months  ago. 

The  thing  that  sold  me  on  buying  a  set  at  once  was  the  Saturday  afternoon  I  visited 
my  friend  Ned's  place  to  see  a  football  game  on  his  set.  His  place  was  mobbed.  About 
thirty  friends  were  there.  I  had  to  be  content  with  craning  my  neck  from  a  bridge  chair 
over  the  burly  shoulders  of  those  who  got  there  first.  The  game  was  a  good  one  and, 
as  I  went  home  through  a  heavy  downpour,  I  marveled  at  the  convenience  of  having  a 
set  of  one's  own.  No  motoring  through  bad  Fall  weather  to  games.  No  buying  tickets 
from  speculators.  No  craning  my  neck  over  people  taller  than  I  am.  I'll  buy  a  set  of  my 
own,  I  decided.   So  I  placed  an  order. 

It  seemed  like  a  long  wait  for  delivery,  but  then  came  the  fateful  day.  I  had  an  awful  row 
with  the  landlord  who  said  he  didn't  want  his  rooftop  cluttered  with  television  antennas.  I 
had  to  think  fast.  I  had  already  contracted  for  the  set,  although  I  knew  that  the  dealer 
would  allow  me  to  cancel.  I  promised  the  landlord  that  I  would  sign  a  release  assuming 
all  responsibility  for  damage  that  his  building  might  sustain  from  my  aerial.  Furthermore, 
I  said  that  he  and  his  young  son  could  drop  in  any  time  to  see  television  programs.  I  lived 
to  regret  the  last  part.  The  landlord's  family  practically  boarded  with  us  during  the  re- 
mainder of  the  football  season. 


What  made  matters  worse  is  that  the  landlord — what  with  his  insistence  on  rent  in- 
creases and  his  drastic  cuts  in  building  service  since  the  war — was  a  decidedly  unpopular 
fellow  with  my  neighbors.  When  he  began  visiting  me  socially  on  television  sports  days, 
I  felt  that  my  own  popularity  was  waning.  So  I  took  the  bull  by  the  horns  and  invited  a  few 
neighbors,  too.  On  top  of  this,  there  were  always  some  fellows  from  the  office  whom  I 
had  to  invite  (or  who  invited  themselves)  for  special  television  events. 

The  result:    I'm  still  looking  at  television  over  other  people's  shoulders! 

And  as  a  television  host  (there's  nothing  in  Emily  Post's  book  on  this  category)  I  had  to 
blaze  a  trail  in  hospitality.  I  had  to  serve  refreshments,  empty  ashtrays,  open  the  door, 
hang  up  coats  and  attend  to  all  the  other  rituals  of  home  entertaining.  My  wife  is  a 
great  scout  about  my  bringing  friends  home,  but  she  drew  the  line  (Continued  on  page  81) 


Ordinarily,  letters  to  the  editor  find  their  way  to  Radio  Mirror's  Information  Booth,   there  to 
be  answered   to  the  best  of  the  editors'   ability.      But  this,   we  feel,    is   different — 

first,  because  we  have  no  answer  for  it.     And  second,  because  Anonymous  __ 
has  a  problem  that's  likely,  any  day  now,  to  be  yours  as  well.                  *-■» 


*«. 


25 


IF  yours  is  an  average  family,  there's  probably  a  pretty  definite 
radio  listening  schedule  at  your  house. 

Most  families  have  one.  In  many  cases  it's  not  carefully  written 
out  and  hung  on  the  wall  above  the  radio  (although  sometimes  it 
is)  but  certainly  it's  firmly  fixed  in  everyone's  mind.  Mother  has 
her  favorite  programs;  some  Dad  wouldn't  miss  for  the  world;  the 
children  have  their  likes  and  dislikes  as  well.  When  the  time  for  a 
family  favorite  rolls  around,  everyone  gathers  about  the  radio,  an- 
ticipating an  evening  of  real  enjoyment.  (Happy  the  family  with  two 
radios,  so  that  the  minority  opinion,  if  there  is  one,  can  be  satis- 
fied, too!) 

Those  listening  schedules  are  a  pattern  of  each  family's  "likes." 
Of  course,  there's  no  such  definite  schedule  of  "dislikes."  If  a  pro- 
gram comes  on  which  no  one  wants  to  hear,  the  dial  is  turned  to 
another  station. 

Radio — meaning  the  vast  army  of  people  which  is  responsible  for 
what  is  heard  on  the  air — would  like  to  know,  from  the  even  more 
important  radio  people,  the  listeners  themselves,  what  their  favorite 
programs  and  who  their  favorite  performers  are.  Is  a  certain  star 
getting  a  lukewarm  reception  or  is  he  a  prime  favorite  with  the 
public?  Has  a  new  program  so  captured  the  listeners'  fancy  that 
they  would  like  more  shows  patterned  after  it?  What  comedian 
provokes  the  heartiest  laughter?  What  musical  program  has  the 
widest  appeal?  Which  daytime  serial  is  most  inspirational,  most 
true  to  life? 


26 


To  obtain  the  answers  to  these  questions,  Radio  Mirror  last  year 
launched  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards,  the  only  opportunity  on  a 
nation-wide  scale  for  listeners  to  express  their  opinion  of  listening 
fare.  True,  there  are  other  polls — but  most  of  them  are  either 
regional  in  character,  sample  opinion  on  only  one  specific  type  of 
program  or  performer,  or  are  polls  of  editors  or  critics,  not  of 
y  listeners.  True,  there  are  people  in  the  business  of  getting  such 
information  from  listeners  for  radio  rating  services,  but  they  reach 
only  selected  listeners  in  selected  cities.  The  Radio  Mirror  Awards 
poll  is  voluntary,  unrestricted — its  aim  is  to  discover  preferences 
of  listeners  who  are  interested  enough  in  what  is  now  on  the  air, 
and  what  will  be  offered  as  listening  fare  in  the  future,  to  fill  in 
ballots  stating  those  preferences. 

Last  month,  as  the  first  part  of  the  Radio  Mirror  Awards  for  1948, 
you  were  asked  to  vote  for  your  favorite  radio  performers.  Below  is 
the  second  and  final  ballot  for  this  year.  Use  it  to  vote  for  your 
favorite  radio  programs.  On  this  ballot,  next  to  each  type  of  radio 
show  listed,  fill  in  the  name  of  the  program  which,  in  your  opinion, 
is  the  best  in  that  field.  Send  your  ballot  to  Radio  Mirror  Awards, 
205  East  42nd  Street,  New  York  17,  N,  Y.  You  need  not  sign  your 
name  unless  you  wish  to. 

Results  of  voting  on  both  ballots  will  be  announced  in  the  April, 
1949,  issue  of  Radio  Mirror  Magazine. 


Have  you  a  right  to  speak  your  mind  about  programs 

you  hear  on  the  air?  Indeed  you  have— as  a 

listener  you're  the  most  important  person  in  radio! 


27 


Commentator,  columnist,  author,  Pearson  finds  enough  time 
to  keep  oue  practiced  hand  on  the  pulse  of  current  events 
and  the  other  ou  affairs  at  his  farm  outside  Washington,  D.  C. 


A  ringside  view  of 
controlled  energy  at  work 
in  a  man  of  many 
talents,  many  ambitions 


YBO 


By   DAVID   RARR 


28 


MY  boss  Drew  Pearson  is  so  many  men  rolled  into  one 
that  I  feel  stifled  about  starting.  He's  the  columnist 
who  writes  "Washington  Merry-Go-Round"  for  600 
newspapers;  he's  the  radio  broadcaster  who  is  listened 
to  by  twelve  million  people  every  Sunday  night  over 
ABC  at  7:00  P.M.  (EST);  he's  the  co-author  of  such 
famous  books  as  Washington  Merry-Go-Round,  More 
Merry -Go-Round,  Nine  Old  Men,  and  The  American 
Diplomatic  Game.  He's  a  "Quaker  relief  worker,"  if  you 
should  ask  me,  and  he's  also  a  farmer— with  a  sense  of 
humor.  Being  his  assistant — what  you  might  call  his 
"leg  man" — I'm  in  a  position  to  know  about  that  last  item! 

Just  take  a  look  at  his  farm,  which  lies  outside  Washing- 
ton, D.  C,  if  you  want  to  see  all  these  things  combined. 
There  my  boss  has  flocks  of  animals — with  appropriate 
names.  For  instance,  every  one  of  the  bulls  on  the  place 
is  named  for  some  one  who  has  publicly  called  Drew  a  liar. 

"The  first  bull  I  named  after  a  person  who  called  me 
a  liar  was  named  Roosevelt,"  grins  my  boss,  "and  after 
that  I  named  bulls  Cordell  Hull,  Stalin,  Senator  McKellar, 
Truman,  Senator  Tydings,  and  so  on.  You  have  no  idea 
how  odd  it  is  when  we  butcher  a  bull.  Stalin,  I  recall, 
was  the  toughest  and  most  sinewy  bull  we   ever  ate!" 

The  prize  boar  is  named  Stettinius — "Because  he's  a 
bore,  and  because  he's  so  beautiful,"  explains  my  boss. 
When  the  Japanese  cook  first  started  out  of  the  house  to 
feed  "Stettinius"  some  garbage,  she  tried  to  say  his  name 
and  failed.  Instead  she  announced,  "I  go  feed  State  De- 
partment now." 

That  gives  you  a  faint  idea  of  (Continued  on  page  79) 


By    rising    at    6    A.M.    and    planning    every 
moment   of   the    day,   Pearson   can   he   much 

more     than     merely    a    "gentleman    farmer." 


Drew  Pearson's  radio  column  is  heard  Sun- 
day nights  at  7  P.M.  EST,  on  ABC  stations. 


\M 


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»-       "  ■■«  - 


Wat 


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i»ft»i  111  tit 


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*.   £ 


The  Ed  Gardner  house  began  life  as  a  Swiss  chalet,  bat  it  became  pure  Gardner — meaning  pure  comfort — as  soon  as  the 
family  took  possession.    One  of  the  specialties   of  the  house    is   the   magnificent   view   of    Bel   Air  that   lies   before   it. 


EDDIE  GARDNER,  aged  four,  has  a  new  baby 
brother,  and  his  father,  Ed — better  known  as 
Archie — Gardner,  couldn't  be  happier. 

"Two  boys?"  he  boasts,  "not  a  bit  more  trouble 
than  one.   It's  a  cinch!" 

At  which  Simone,  Ed's  delightful  French  wife, 
echoing  mothers  of  brand  new,  Number  Two  babies 
the  world  over,  groans. 

"  'A  cinch,'  he  says.    Plut  a  Dieu!" 

And  she  describes  Black  Thursday — which  was 
just  the  day  before;  first  day  off  for  five-weeks  old 
Stevie's  nurse,  first  day  on — with  two  children — for 
mama. 

It  wasn't  so  bad,  at  the  start.  Mrs.  Ellis  gave  Stevie 
his  six  ajn.  feeding,  made  the  formula  for  the  day 
before  she  left.  And  Eddie  was  off  at  nursery  school, 
where  he  stays  every  day  until  after  lunch. 

"And  I  was  at  the  office,"  put  in  Ed,  "jumping  up 
and  down  on  my  writers.  Duffy's  never  closes,  new 
babies  or  not." 

Simone,  with  her  first  chance  alone  with  little 
Stephen,  exulted.  It  was  fun!  The  sunbath — just 
three  minutes  on  each  side  to  toast  him  properly — 
he's  still  too  new  for  long  exposures.  The  bath — and 
the  first  smile  at  mama — what  a  lovely  thing  a  new 


baby  is.  How  satisfying  to  see  him  responding  to  you! 

With  the  ten  ajn.  bottle,  things  began  to  get  a  little 
grim.  Simone  was  tired.  (Both  of  her  babies  were 
born  by  Caesarian  section.)  Stevie  didn't  want  the 
whole  eight  ounces.  And  he  cried  when  Simone  urged 
him.   He  was  sleepy,  he  howled. 

"Too  sleepy  even  to — what  is  it  you  say — burp," 
his  mama  recalls.  "So  as  soon  as  he  is  in  the,  bassinet, 
up  comes  the  milk."  And  up  comes  Stevie  for  another 
bath,  clean  clothes,  clean  bed,  another  bottle — with 
burp  this  time! — and  at  last,  sleep. 

At  this  Simone  had  her  first  cry. 

Ed  is  indignant. 

"You  didn't  tell  me,"  he  protests.  "I  thought  it  was 
only  that  Eddie  .  .  ." 

"I  had  forgotten  the  morning  before  you  came 
home,"  Simone  says,  managing  a  laugh,  "it  got  so 
much  worse  .  .  ." 

Eddie  came  home  at  noon. 

Now  Eddie  had  been  scientifically  conditioned  for 
his  new  brother's  arrival.  Ed  and  Simone  had  read 
up  on  all  the  modern  psychology,  knew  all  about 
"sibling  rivalry,"  "regression,"  and  all  the  other  long 
names  for  trouble  with  "old"  baby  when  the  new 
baby  comes. 


Oh  fa*  day*  oMfam  t6e  %*e**,  V«$j*  «t**  &***(&  ojfatoum. 


ii ) 


gardnir 


By  PAULINE  SWANSON 


"ft*  ™  -  it-  * 


Because  Ed  plays  a  brilliant  game  of  tennis,  Simone 
now  plays  a  pretty  good  one.  Because  Ed  loves  sailing, 
she  spends  days  on  the  Malabar  VII.  But  her  favor- 
ite sport,  Ed  says  ruefully,  is  "going  to  Magnin's." 

If  plenty  of  dogs  didn't  live  there,  Ed  wouldn't  either. 
Red-haired   "Duffy"  is   one   of   his   closest   friends. 

Ed  Gardner  Is  heard  on  DuOV'a  Tavern.  "W*d.  at  9  P.  M.  EST  on  NBC 


Simone  and  Ed  needn't  have  worried  about  young  Eddie's 
reception  of  the  new  baby.  "Stevie,"  Eddie  says,  "is  mine." 


fZuiU  *  Ufa..  .*&&  quite  <i  family 


KDNIR 


"'''''I'"1 (  l("  "<■»  btb)      Stevi.      i.i.i, 


The   Eil  Gardner  h. 
family   took    po^esi 


EDDIE  GARDNER,  aged  four,  has  a  new  baby 
brother,  and  his  father,  Ed — better  known  as 
Archie — Gardner,  couldn't  be  happier. 

"Two  boys?"  he  boasts,  "not  a  bit  more  trouble 
than  one.   It's  a  cinch!" 

At  which  Simone,  Ed's  delightful  French  wife, 
echoing  mothers  of  brand  new,  Number  Two  babies 
the  world  over,  groans. 

"  'A  cinch,'  he  says.    Plut  a  Dieu!" 

And  she  describes  Black  Thursday — which  was 
just  the  day  before;  first  day  off  for  five-weeks  old 
Stevie's  nurse,  first  day  on — with  two  children — for 
mama. 

It  wasn't  so  bad,  at  the  start.  Mrs.  Ellis  gave  Stevie 
his  six  ujii.  feeding,  made  the  formula  for  the  day 
before  she  left.  And  Eddie  was  off  at  nursery  school, 
where  he  stays  every  day  until  after  lunch. 

"And  I  was  at  the  office,"  put  in  Ed,  "jumping  up 
and  down  on  my  writers.  Duffy's  never  closes,  new 
babies  or  not." 

Simone,  with  her  first  chance  alone  with  little 
Stephen,  exulted.  It  was  fun!  The  sunbath — just 
three  minutes  on  each  side  to  toast  him  properly — 
he's  still  too  new  for  long  exposures.  The  bath — and 
the  first  smile  at  mama — what  a  lovely  thing  a  new 


baby  is.  How  satisfying  to  see  him  responding  to  you! 

With  the  ten  a.m.  bottle,  things  began  to  get  a  little 
grim.  Simone  was  tired.  (Both  of  her  babies  were 
born  by  Caesarian  section.)  Stevie  didn't  want  the 
whole  eight  ounces.  And  he  cried  when  Simone  urged 
him.   He  was  sleepy,  he  howled. 

"Too  sleepy  even  to — what  is  it  you  say — burp," 
his  mama  recalls.  "So  as  soon  as  he  is  in  the.bassinei 
up  comes  the  milk."  And  up  comes  Stevie  for  another 
bath,  clean  clothes,  clean  bed,  another  bottle — with 
burp  this  time! — and  at  last,  sleep. 

At  this  Simone  had  her  first  cry. 

Ed  is  indignant. 

"You  didn't  tell  me,"  he  protests.  "I  thought  it  was 
only  that  Eddie  .  .  ." 

"I  had  forgotten  the  morning  before  you  came 
home,"  Simone  says,  managing  a  laugh,  "it  got  so 
much  worse  .  .  ." 

Eddie  came  home  at  noon. 

Now  Eddie  had  been  scientifically  conditioned  for 
his  new  brother's  arrival.  Ed  and  Simone  had  read 
up  on  all  the  modern  psychology,  knew  all  about 
"sibling  rivalry,"  ''regression,"  and  all  the  other  long 
names  for  trouble  with  "old"  baby  when  the  new 
baby  comes. 


Oh  iU  cUyx  *Mfii*m  tie  *?*****.  Vujfr'*  ma*  &**  attfeoftU 


Because  Ed  plays  a  brilliant  game  of  tennis,  Simone 
now  plays  a  pretty  good  one.  Because  Ed  loves  sailing, 
she  spends  days  on  the  Malabar  VII.  But  her  favor- 
He  sport,  Ed  says  ruefully,  is  "going  lo   MagninV 

If  plenty  of  dogs  didn't  live  (here,  Ed  wouldn't  either. 
Red-haired    "Duffy"   is   one    of   his    closest    friends. 

uC"«liirfi,k,IBI„Ouii,'.T..,™     ».H    M  9  P-W-  ESTm  NBC 


aO(e...mitifUUa^mctu 


Lauritz  Mekhior  says  that  nobody  else  would  have  a  dog  like 
"Anything."    And   Ed  wouldn't   give  him   up  for   anything. 

"Two   children,"  Ed  and  Simone   told   each   other,  "will  be  as   easy 
to   care  for  as   one."    That  was  before  there  were  two   to    care  for. 


t*    i 


- 

■ 

•   -  -. 


- 


: 

: 


it 


"Anything"  may  be  unorthodox,  but  the  Gardners 


It  was  going  to  be  his  baby,  they  had  told  him 
His  to  love,  his  to  take  care  of,  his  to  set  an 
example  for.  Eddie  was  such  a  big  man  now;  he 
could  teach  the  new,  ignorant  creature  a  greal 
deal  about  what  goes  on  in  this  big,  wide  world. 

"You  are  our  baby,  and  you  know  how  much  we 
love  you,"  they  told  him,  over  and  over  again. 
"You  will  love  your  baby  too." 

When  Simone  was  at  the  hospital  to  have  Stevie 
— and  away  from  Eddie  for  the  first  time — Ed 
looking  it  up  in  the  back  of  Dr.  Spock's  book,  com- 
pensated his  son  for  the  momentary  loss,  tools 
great  pains  to  be  with  Eddie  more. 

"I  got  saddle  sores  from  the  pony. track,"  he 
laments,  "tone  deaf  from  the  Merry-Go-Round.'' 

But  Eddie  was  just  fine. 

When  Simone  came  home  with  Stephen,  Eddifl 
was  at  the  door  to  welcome  "his"  baby,  although 
he  did  forget  his  earlier  plans  to  show  the  babj 
where  its  room  was.  He  was  too  busy  at  thi 
moment  hugging  his  mama,  clinging  to  her  as  h« 
used  to  when  he,  too,  was  small,  and  utterJj 
dependent. 

But  a  little  later,  when  Stevie  was  comfortably 
ensconced  in  the  ruffled  bassinet,  Eddie  made  ujji 
for  the  momentary  neglect.  He  gave  his  nevi 
brother  his  most  precious  possession,  a  batterecl 
shred  of  his  own  baby  comforter  now  rolled  up  al 
a  crib-bumper  which  had  been  in  his  own  be<) 


ive  a  patio  and  barbecue  that's  typical  Bel  Air. 


Eddie,  already  an  all-round  athlete,  will  take  his  Dad  on  at 
anything  from  boxing  to  a  handstand  contest,  and  no  cheating. 


pery  night  as  long  as  he  could  remember. 
The  Gardners,  glowing  with  Successful  Parent- 
ood,  were  really  touched. 

Everything  was  dreamy  for  awhile  after  that, 
ddie  would  have  been  glad  to  take  care  of  his 
aby,  except  that  the  nurse  did  all  that.  And  he 
>uld  spend  the  time  sitting  on  mommie's  bed, 
slling  her  all  about  the  day's  excitement  at  Mrs. 
uckley's  school. 

And  since  the  little  baby  was  too  little  to  "play 
nigh" — Ed  loves  children,  Simone  says,  but  he 
asn't  the  faintest  idea  what  you  do  with  them  be- 
)te  they're  old  enough  to  roll  on  the  floor — Eddie 
ad  his  father  all  to  himself  a  good  part  of  the 
me  too. 

There  were  tiny  hints  of  unquiet  in  Eddie's  de- 
jrtment.  If  he  watched  mama  give  Stevie  a 
pttle,  he  thought  it  would  be  "a  good  game"  if  he 
'mid  be  fed  his  supper  too.  He  all  but  abandoned 
ie  out-of-doors,  finding  a  perch  two  feet  from  his 
lother  the  pleasantest  place  to  be.  But  there  was 
')  real  trouble — until  Black  Thursday. 
He  came  home  at  noon  and  went  straight  to  his 
other's  bedroom.  She  wasn't  there;  Stevie  had 
vakened  from  his  nap  with  a  touch  of  colic  and 
mone  was  in  the  nursery,  holding  the  unhappy 
tie  fellow  on  her  lap. 

"Play  with  me"  Eddie  demanded  grimly  after 
atching  this  tableau  for  (Continued  on  page  82) 


So  sold  was  Eddie  on  the  institution  of  brotherhood  that  he  pre- 
sented  Stevie   with   his   own   ragged   but    cherished   baby   comforter. 


I 


Come  andWrf  IB  GARDNER 


Luuriiz  Melchior  sayn  that  nobody  else  would  have  a  dog  like 
"Anything.*1    And   Ed  wouldn't   give  him   up  for  anything. 

"Two   children,"   Ed  and   Si. nunc   told   each  other,  "will   be  as   easy 
lor  ii»  one."    That  waft  before  there  were  two  to   care  for. 


"Anything"  may  be  unorthodox,  but  the  Gardner* 


It  was  going  to  be  his  baby,  they  had  told  him. 
His  to  love,  his  to  take  care  of,  his  to  set  an 
example  for.  Eddie  was  such  a  big  man  now;  he 
could  teach  the  new,  ignorant  creature  a  great 
deal  about  what  goes  on  in  this  big,  wide  world. 

"You  are  our  baby,  and  you  know  hov.  much  we 
love  you,"  they  told  him,  over  and  over  again. 
"You  will  love  your  baby  too." 

When  Simone  was  at  the  hospital  to  have  Stevie 
—and  away  from  Eddie  for  the  first  time— Ed, 
looking  it  up  in  the  back  of  Dr.  Spock's  '  ok,  com- 
pensated his  son  for  the  momentary  loss,  took 
great  pains  to  be  with  Eddie  more. 

"I  got  saddle  sores  from  the  pony  track, 
laments,  "tone  deaf  from  the  Merry-G 

But  Eddie  was  just  fine. 

When  Simone  came  home  with  Stephen,  Eddie 
was  at  the  door  to  welcome  "his"  baby,  aluiougb 
he  did  forget  his  earlier  plans  to  show  the  baby 
where  its  room  was.  He  was  too  busy  at  tne 
moment  hugging  his  mama,  clinging  to  her  as 
used  to  when  he,  too,  was  small,  and  utterly 
dependent.  .  H„ 

But  a  little  later,  when  Stevie  was  cornioruw 
ensconced  in  the  ruffled  bassinet,  Eddie  made  UP 
for   the   momentary   neglect.    He   gave   htsn 
brother  his  most  precious  possession,  a  °™ 
shred  of  his  own  baby  comforter  now  ro"~"Pb(a 
a  crib-bumper  which  had  been  in  his  own 


he 
Round." 


hive  a  patio  and  barbecue  that's  typical  Bel  Air. 


every    night    as    long    as    he    could    remember. 

The  Gardners,  glowing  with  Successful  Parent- 
hood, were  really  touched. 

Everything  was  dreamy  for  awhile  after  that. 
Eddie  would  have  been  glad  to  take  care  of  his 
baby,  except  that  the  nurse  did  all  that.  And  he 
could  spend  the  time  sitting  on  mommies  bed, 
telling  her  all  about  the  day's  excitement  at  Mrs. 
Buckley's  school. 

And  since  the  little  baby  was  too  little  to  "play 
rough"— Ed  loves  children,  Simone  says,  but  he 
basn't  the  faintest  idea  what  you  do  with  them  be- 
fore they're  old  enough  to  roll  on  the  floor— Eddie 
bad  his  father  all  to  himself  a  good  part  of  the 
time  too. 

There  were  tiny  hints  of  unquiet  in  Eddie's  de- 
portment. If  he  watched  mama  give  Stevie  a 
bottle,  he  thought  it  would  be  "a  good  game"  if  he 
wuld  be  fed  his  supper  too.  He  all  but  abandoned 
to  out-of-doors,  finding  a  perch  two  feet  from  his 
mother  the  pleasantest  place  to  be.  But  there  was 
"oreal  trouble— until  Black  Thursday. 

He  came  home  at  noon  and  went  straight  to  his 
"other's  bedroom.  She  wasn't  there;  Stevie  had 
"*akened  from  his  nap  with  a  touch  of  colic  and 
jfmone  was  in  the  nursery,  holding  the  unhappy 
"We  fellow  on  her  lap. 

'Play  with  me,"  Eddie  demanded  grimly  after 
*«tching  this  tableau  for  (Continued  on  page  82) 


Eddie,  already  an  all-round  athlete,  will   lake  hit  Dad  on  at 
anything  from  boxing  to  a  handiland  contral,  and  no  cheating. 

So  told   was   Eddie  on   the   inililution   of   brotherhood   that   he   pre- 
tented    Stevie    with    his   own   ragged    but    ihcri.hr, I    bib)    comforter. 


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Guest  Joe  Francis   (r.)  has  a  surprise  for  Don:  an  ancient  business  card  dating  from 
the   days  when   "D.   McNeill"  was   manager   of   the   "Five  Master   Harmony   Kings." 


IT'S  as  well  to  remember, 
every  now  and  again,  that  all 
the  big  shows  do  not  come 
from  New  York  or  Hollywood. 
There's  Chicago,  too!  So,  this 
month,  we  take  you  to  Studio  A 
in  Chicago's  Merchandise  Mart 
from  which  the  Breakfast  .Club- 
bers send  their  hour  of  fun  each 
morning.  It  seems  like  dawn, 
when  you  get  there.  Maybe  you 
had  to  skip  breakfast  (which  is 
not  really  served  with  the 
show!).  You  may  begin  to  ask 
yourself  why  you  did  it  And 
then  Sam  Cowling  wanders  in, 
yawning,  rubbing  his  eyes,  act- 
ing exactly  the  way  you  feel. 
While  announcer  Bob  Murphy 
is  instructing  the  audience,  Sam 
idly  picks  up  a  sign.  "We're 
Hungry,  Too"  it  says — and  you 
know  why  you  came.  It's  the 
Breakfast  Club  brand  of  fun 
which  nobody,  no  matter  how 
breakf astless,  can  resist. 


Don  McNeill  and  The  Breakfast 
dob  are  a  Monday  through  Fri- 
day feature,  at  X  A .M.  C ST,  9  A .M. 
EST  on   ABC    network    .tatioo.. 


A  moment's  trace  interrupts  the  fending 
of  Jack  Owens   (1.)  and  Sam  Cowling. 


They've  all  gotten  np  at  dawn,  but  to  a 
Breakfast  Club  audience  it's  no  sacrifice. 


35 


T>« 


fywfc 


\%M 


.--— 


•a *  *■ 

X.SO 


Gnest  Joe  Francis  (r.)  bus  a  surprise  for  Don:  an  ancient  business  cud  dating  from 
law  days  when   "D.   McNeill"   wa>   manager   of   the   tin  Matter   Harmon j   Kings." 


ITS  as  well  to  remember, 
every  now  and  again,  that  all 
the  big  shows  do  not  come 
from  New  York  or  Hollywood. 
There's  Chicago,  too!  So,  this 
month,  we  take  you  to  Studio  A 
in  Chicago's  Merchandise  Hart 
from  which  the  Breakfast  Club- 
bers send  their  hour  of  fun  each 
morning.  It  seems  like  dawn, 
when  you  get  there.  Maybe  you 
had  to  skip  breakfast  (which  is 
nqt  really  served  with  the 
show!).  You  may  begin  to  ask 
yourself  why  you  did  it  And 
then  Sam  Cowling  wanders  in, 
yawning,  rubbing  his  eyes,  act- 
ing exactly  the  way  you  feeL 
'While  announcer  Bob  Murphy 
is  instructing  the  audience,  Sam 
idly  picks  up  a  sign.  "We're 
Hungry,  Too"  it  says — and  you 
know  why  you  came.  It's  the 
Breakfast  Club  brand  of  fun 
which  nobody,  no  matter  bow 
breakfastless,  can  resist 


■>»  McNeill  «J  The  Bhaatan 
Oaa  aa»  m  ttmmimr  thi  Basil  IH- 
'■ll- Uu»,  .tSA-M.CST.9AJM. 
«ST  o.  AatC  aatwoak  . 


A  moment*!  trace  interrupts  the  fending 
of  Jack  Owens   (U  and  Sam  Cowling. 


Taey've  all  gotten  up  at  dawn,  hat  to  a 
Breakfast  Club  audience  it's  no  aaerifiee. 


I  I ,    H 


Showmen  like  Bert  Parks  don't  just  "decide"  to  go  into  show  business.] 


tetwtttiL 


ttw£tTcoim& 


Bert  Parks'  record- 
setting  career  be- 
gan when,  at  17,  he 
became  a  network 
staff  announcer. 
He's  now  M.G.  of 
ABC's  Stop  the 
Music  (Sun.,  8  P.M. 
EST)  and  Break  the 
Bank,    also    ABC. 


By 

MARTI 
COHEN 


IT'S  undoubtedly  true  that  a  man  who  gives  away  money  can't  avoid  making 
friends.  The  more  money — the  more  friends.  And  Bert  Parks,  while  emceeing 
ABC's  Stop  the  Music  and  Break  the  Bank,  has  given  away  a  staggering  amount 
of  money  to  alert  contestants.  Naturally,  the  enriched  contestants  love  him. 
But  there's  more  to  it  than  that.  Being  Bert  Parks,  they  would  have  loved  him 
even  if  he  were  not  the  giver  of  gifts,  for  he  knows  a  show-business  secret  worth 
more  than  its  weight  in  gold.  Bert  knows  how  to  make  the  audience-  one  with 
him,  and  vice  versa.  Even  radio  sophisticates  realize  it's  the  human  side  that  has 
endeared  Bert  Parks  to  millions  of  radio  listeners.  Like  the  real  spirit  of  St. 
Nicholas,  Bert  Parks  has  a  heart  full  of  sympathy  and  warmth  for  people. 

"Bert  never  gets  a  laugh  at  the  expense  of  a  contestant,"  one  of  his  associates 
says. .  .  .  and  a  Pittsburgh  radio  man's  face  lights  up  with  recognition,  "Even  out 
in  the  sticks  we've  heard  that  Parks  is  a  grand  person"  .  .  .  and  a  young  girl  from 
California  says,  "He's  real  sweet." 

It  adds  up  to  the  outstanding  characteristic  of  Bert  Parks  that  distinguishes  all 
real  showmen:  he  loves  people.  If  a  radio  program  doesn't  go  exactly  right,  he  is 
heartbroken  and  figuratively  kicks  himself  all  the  way  home.  For  Bert  didn't 
wander  haphazardly  into  a  radio  studio  selling  insurance  and  stay  to  be  an  an- 
nouncer. He's  had  his  wagon  hitched  to  show  business  since  the  age  when  he  was 
paying  half -fare  on  Atlanta  trolleys. 

"I  didn't  make  very  good  grades  in  school,"  Bert  will  tell  you  guiltily.  "No 
wonder.  Instead  of  doing  homework,  I'd  prop  a  mirror  in  front  of  my  arithmetic 
book,  pencil  a  mustache  on  my  lip  and  just  mug." 

As  a  kid,  Bert  idolized  Charlie  Chaplin  and  sat  through  his  pictures  three  and 
four  times,  studying  every  trick  of  the  great  comedian.  At  the  age  of  nine,  when 
Bert  made  his  professional  debut  with  the  first  Atlantic  showing  of  "The  Gold 
Rush,"  he  did  an  impersonation  of  Chaplin. 

"They  gave  me  twenty  dollars  in  silver  to  impress  me,"  Bert  remembers.  "But 
it  wasn't  the  silver  that  jingled  in  my  ears,  it  was  the  echo  of  the  audience 
applause." 

From  then  on,  Bert  had  the  show  bug.  He  didn't  think  twice  about  breaking 
into  his  parents'  parties  to  draw  some  laughs.  He  would  coax  his  patient  brother, 
Allen,  to  play  straight  man  in  the  bedroom  rehearsals.  He  found  a  ready  audience 
in  his  schoolmates  for  the  stories  and  monologues  he  invented.  At  the  age  of 
sixteen,  he  graduated  from  Marest  College,  an  Atlanta  military  school,  and  headed 
for  an  audition  at  WGST,  the  Georgia  Tech  radio  station.  He  was  hired  as  a 
singer  and  staff  announcer. 

"They  paid  me  seven  dollars  a  week,"  Bert  says,  grinning.  "Until  the  depression 
when  I  took  a  twenty  per  cent  cut  with  the  rest  of  the  staff." 

Bert  worked  at  WGST  for  a  year  and  a  half  and  he  might  still  be  there,  for  in 
these  48  states  there  are  well  over  a  thousand  radio  stations  and  many  many  thou- 
sands of  announcers  who  dream  of  big  network  jobs  just  as  (Cont'd  on  page  71) 


Something  inside  won't  let  them  rest  until  they  are  in . . .  running  the  show 


37 


Eager  contestants  for  the  Bathing  Suit  Queen 
title  line  up,  appropriately  clad,  outside 
Mutual  studios  long  before  time  for  the  show. 


UEEN  FOR 


Dozens  and  dozens  of  pretty 
girls,  all  of  them  in  bathing  suits!  No  wonder 
the  entire  male  population  envies  Jack  Bailey 


Some  were  more  shy  than  others — they  waited 
until  they  were  safely  inside  the  building 
before    peeling    down    to    that    essential    sui 


EVERY  day,  on  Queen  For  A  Day,  a  special 
class  of  queen  is  chosen — cowgirl  Queen, 
perhaps,  or  kitchen  Queen,  or  great- 
grandmother  Queen — and  she  is  presented 
with  gifts  galore,  feted  throughout  her  day- 
long reign,  granted  the  wish  dearest  her 
heart,  has  the  time  of  her  life!  These  pictures 
were  taken  on  Bathing  Suit  Queen  day. 
When  the  judging  was  over,  M.  C.  Jack 
Bailey,  tastefully  dressed  in  a  striped  pink- 
and-purple  confection  of  doubtful  vintage, 
crowned  Virginia  Hunt  as  Queen  and  de- 
clared the  runner-up  contestants  her  court. 
Virginia,  whose  wish  was  for  a  job  teach- 
ing swimming,  was  presented  with  a  ward- 
robe of  bathing  suits,  and,  among  other 
things,  got  a  week's  vacation  in  Bermuda 
for  herself  and  her  mother. 


Queen  For  A  Day,  with  Jack  Bailey  u»  M.C.,  ie  heard  each 
Monday   through    Friday,  2   to  2:30  P.M.  EST,  Mutual. 


38 


With  Jack  on  one  hand 
and  Johnny  on  the 
other,  Queen  Virginia 
holds  court  in  the  mids>t 
of  models  wearing 
their  bathing  suit  prize*. 


*4     -' 


■■i-'**~ 


w\m 


es*-i» 


^HETOWN  HOUS 


Queen  Virginia  and  her  court  have  a  luncheon 
party — and  what  better  place  for  an  aquatic 
repast  than  on  a  raft  in  the  middle  of  a  pool? 


Eager  contestants  for  the  Bathing  Suit  Queen 
title  line  up,  appropriately  clad,  outside 
Mutual  studios  long  before  time  for  the  show. 


Some  were  more  shy  than  others — they  waited  . 
until  they  were  safely  inBide  the  building! 
before    peeling    down    to    that    essential    suit! J 


EVERY  day,  on  Queen  For  A  Day,  a  special 
class  of  queen  is  chosen — cowgirl  Queen, 
perhaps,  or  kitchen  Queen,  or  great- 
grandmother  Queen — and  she  is  presented 
with  gifts  galore,  feted  throughout  her  day- 
long reign,  granted  the  wish  dearest  her 
heart,  has  the  time  of  her  life!  These  pictures 
were  taken  on  Bathing  Suit  Queen  day. 
When  the  judging  was  over,  M.  C.  Jack 
Bailey,  tastefully  dressed  in  a  striped  pink- 
and-purple  confection  of  doubtful  vintage, 
crowned  Virginia  Hunt  as  Queen  and  de- 
clared the  runner-up  contestants  her  court. 
Virginia,  whose  wish  was  for  a  job  teach- 
ing swimming,  was  presented  with  a  ward- 
robe of  bathing  suits,  and,  among  other 
things,  got  a  week's  vacation  in  Bermuda 
for  herself  and  her  mother. 


Quern  For  X  Day,  with  Jock  Bailey  aa  M.C., is  heard  each 
Monday   through    Friday.   2   to   2:30  P.M.  EST.  Mutual. 


Dozens  and  dozens  of  pretty 
girls,  all  of  them  in  bathing  suits'.  No  wonder 
the  entire  male  population  envies  Jack  Bailey 


*76ene  one  tAinft  youtty  oh,  down  oh  tfiefanat,  t& 


2^>3> 


> 


By 

MAC 
McKERROW 


Mac  McKerrow  is  one  of  the 
successful  farmer-contest- 
ants on  KFI>  America,  heard 
on  NBC,  with  Ed  Bottcher 
as     the    questioning     M.  C. 


*l 


"  /» 


Post  mortem  on  the  p 
gram,  with  quizmaster 


mrr 


ME  AND  Bing  Crosby— I  chuckle  when  I  think  of  it— 
but  it's  actually  true — we  will  both  be  competing 
for  "Oscars"  at  the  same  time. 

In  December,  when  Bing,  strolling  up  to  sock  a  golf 
ball,  wonders  what  the  Motion  Picture  Academy  of  Arts 
and  Sciences  will  do  about  "Emperor  Waltz,"  I'll  be 
milking  cows  on  our  farm  at  Pewaukee,  Wisconsin, 
hoping  I'll  be  quick-witted  enough  to  cope  with  Ed 
Bottcher's  questions  and  smart  enough  to  beat  Robert 
Sawyer  and  two  other  opponents  to  win  R.F.D.  Ameri- 
ca's title  of  Farm  Champion  of  the  Year. 

Whatever  the  outcome,  I'm  sure  of  one  thing.  I'll 
be  more  jittery  than  Bing  is. 

Come  to  think  about  it,  a  farmers'  "Oscar"  has  been 
a  long  time  arriving.  Since  the  Middle  Ages,  farmers 
have  entered  stock,  grains  and  handiwork  in  fairs  and 
exhibitions,  but  the  competition  has  been  between  the 
products  of  one  grower  and  those  of  another. 

In  contrast,  competition  on  R.F.D.  America  is  per- 


sonal. It's  man  against  man,  with  the  nation  listening.  If 
you  miss,  a  couple  of  million  people  hear  it;  if  you  win, 
you  go  home  and  start  studying,  trying  to  stay  on  top. 

In  less  than  a  year,  R.F.D.  America  has  become  an 
important  factor  in  my  life.  In  that  time,  studying  to 
prepare  for  the  smart  guys  from  other  states,  I've 
learned  more  about  our  nation's  agriculture  than  I  ever 
soaked  up  in  school;  I've  learned  how  to  put  that 
knowledge  into  words,  and,  just  as  importantly,  I've 
made  new  friends  and  had  fun.  I  hope  the  audience,  too, 
has  enjoyed  it. 

That  first  show,  however,  started  out  as  a  sort  of 
combined  second  honeymoon,  football  game  and  old 
fashioned  country  school  spelldown. 

Interviewed  by  Tom  Lewellen,  the  man  who  travels 
the  country  to  select  the  contestants,  I  met  the  qualifi- 
cations. I'm  an  actual  farmer,  managing  my  family's 
473-acre  dairy  and  sheep  farm.  I  satisfied  him  I  had 
enough  farm  knowledge  and   (Continued  on  page   74) 


(^pUfo<K€4fat*6HM*6*ut,  &.g?.'D.rt*H&Uc*,teUit6etHi 


iottcher  at  left,  and   contestants   Miles   Sutera,  la.; 
)oris  Handy,  Mich.;  Mac;  Elizabeth  Stevermer,  Minn. 


Mac  McKerrow — typical  of  the  new 
alert    generation    of    U.    S.    farmers. 


City  kids  play  with  toy  autos,  but  when  they  were  young 
Mac    and   his    sister    Isabel,   left,   had    "Thunderhead." 


41 


I 


By 

MAC 

McRERROW 


Mae  McKerrow  i«  one  of  the 
■uecesaful  farmer-conteit- 
unio  on  RFD  America,  beard 
on  NBC,  with  Ed  Bottcher 
an     the    questioning    M-  C. 


E  AND  Bing  Crosby-I  chuckle  when  I  think  nf  i. 
but  it's  actually  true— we  will  both  I 
for  "Oscars"  at  the  same  ttal  ^  C°mpeUng 

In  December,  when  Bine  stroll in<*  ,,~  * 
ball,  wonders  what  the  u£S£&1&£S  £ 
and  Sciences  wiU  do  about  "Emperor  Waltz,"  I'll  ^ 
milking  cows  on  our  farm  at  Pewaukee,  Wisconsui 
hoping  111  be  quick-witted  enough  to  cope  wT^S 
Bottcher  s  questions  and  smart  enough  to  beat  Robert 
Sawyer  and  two  other  opponents  to  win  R.F  D  Arne.-i 
ca  s  title  of  Farm  Champion  of  the  Year 

Whatever  the  outcome,  I'm  sure  of  one  thing  I'll 
be  more  jittery  than  Bing  is. 

Come  to  think  about  it,  a  farmers'  "Oscar"  has  been 
a  long  time  arriving.  Since  the  Middle  Ages,  farmers 
have  entered  stock,  grains  and  handiwork  in  fairs  and 
exhibitions  but  the  competition  has  been  between  the 
products  of  one  grower  and  those  of  another 

In  contrast,  competition  on  R.F.D.  America  is  per- 


sonal. Its  man  against  man,  with  the  nation  listening.  If 
you  miss,  a  couple  of  million  people  hear  it;  if  you  win, 
you  go  home  and  start  studying,  trying  to  stay  on  top. 

In  less  than  a  year,  R.F.D.  America  has  become  an 
important  factor  in  my  life.  In  that  time,  studying  to 
prepare  for  the  smart  guys  from  other  states,  I've 
learned  more  about  our  nation's  agriculture  than  I  ever 
soaked  up  in  school;  I've  learned  how  to  put  that 
knowledge  into  words,  and,  just  as  importantly,  I've 
made  new  friends  and  had  fun.  I  hope  the  audience,  too, 
has  enjoyed  it. 

That  first  show,  however,  started  out  as  a  sort  of 
combined  second  honeymoon,  football  game  and  old 
fashioned  country  school  spelldown. 

Interviewed  by  Tom  LeweUen,  the  man  who  travels 
the  country  to  select  the  contestants,  I  met  the  qualifi- 
cations. I'm  an  actual  farmer,  managing  my  family's 
473-acre  dairy  and  sheep  farm.  I  satisfied  him  I  had 
enough  farm  knowledge  and   (Continued  on  page   74) 


^&enc^t^H^<^MfOH,dowK<uct^ianm,tk  ty^*"^****™*****.  *,?&.  JmvUcateO* ftfe 


Bottcher  at  left,  and  contestants  Miles  Sutera,  la.; 
■is  Handy,  Mich.;  Mac;  Elizabeth  Stevenner,  Mir 


Mac  McKerrow — typical  of  the  new 
alert    generation    of    U.    S.    farmers. 


City  kids  play  with  toy  antos,  but  when  they  were  young 
Mac    and    his    sister    Isabel,    left,   had    "Thunderhead." 


"It  was  like  a   dream — even  when   we   got   off  the   train  that  had  brought  ns  from  Iowa  to  Hollywood 
and  found  Bud  Abbott  (left)   and  Lou  Costello  (right)   waiting  to  lead  papa  and  me  to  our  new  riches." 


I  PRAYED— and  it  happened  to 
me. 

It  still  does  -  not  seem  possible 
that  it  happened.  It's  like  a  dream 
that  my  husband  and  I  were  sud- 
denly whisked  from  our  little  town 
in  Iowa  into  a  breathtaking  whirl 
of  sightseeing  in  Hollywood.  It's  like 
a  fairy  tale  that  we  are  now  rich 
where  before  we  were  anxious  and 
poor.  It's  incredible,  but  it's  true, 
that  my  letter  on  juvenile  delin- 
quency won  the  $30,000  in  prizes 
offered  by  the  Abbott  and  Costello 
radio  program! 

And  I  have  complete  faith  that  it 
all  came  in  answer  to  prayer,  to 
prayer  offered  humbly  out  of  need. 

I  cannot  say  that  my  husband  and 
I  were  desperately  poor.  In  the 
larger  sense,  even  before  this  radio 
manna  from  heaven  fell  upon  us,  we 
were   rich.    We   have   five   children 


and  eight  grandchildren.  I  am  fifty- 
four  and  Daddy — my  husband — is 
fifty-eight.  We  have  been  married 
for  thirty-five  years,  and  we  have 
worked  hard.  Through  good  times 
and  bad  we  provided  for  our  chil- 
dren until  they  could  take  care  of 
themselves.  The  realization  of  all 
this  is  riches  of  a  kind  that  cannot 
be  measured  in  mere  money. 

And  yet,  this  being  a  practical 
world,  we  had  our  very  real  wor- 
ries. Rearing  five  children  on  a 
workman's  wages  did  not  leave 
much  for  savings.  All  the  children 
— from  Charles,  the  oldest,  who  is 
thirty-four  now,  to  Helen,  the 
youngest,  who  is  twenty-five — were 
married  and  starting  their  own  fam- 
ilies. We  were  determined  never  to 
be  a  burden  to  them,  no  matter  how 
much  they  loved  us  and  we  loved 
them. 


Daddy  and  I  lived  in  a  two-room 
apartment  over  a  restaurant  in  the 
little  town  of  Shenandoah,  Iowa.  It 
was  comfortable,  even  though  small, 
and  we  liked  it  there,  especially 
when  it  was  crowded  with  visiting 
grandchildren.  One  reporter  has  de- 
scribed our  home  as  "small  and 
cluttered."  Being  a  woman,  I  rather 
resented  that  as  a  reflection  on  my 
housekeeping.  If  he  meant  "clut- 
tered" with  memories  of  our  full 
lives,  with  the  sweet  little  gifts  made 
for  me  by  the  grandchildren,  with 
the  happy  echoes  of  their  little 
voices  asking  for  the  cookie  jar, 
then  I'll  let  it  pass. 

But  one  day  Daddy  came  home 
and  I  sensed  immediately  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  He  looked  un- 
usually tired,  discouraged,  almost 
beaten.  He  hated  to  tell  me,  but 
finally  it  came  out: 


42 


The  Abbott  and  Costello  show  on  which  Mrs.  Lawrence  was  a  winner  is  heard  Sat., 
11  A.  M.  EST,  ABC.       Abbott  and  Costello  arc  also  heard  Thurs.,  8  P.  M.  EST,  ABC. 


Prayer  had  something  to  do 


with  it.   So  did  a  mother's 


thoughts  on  juvenile  delinquency. 


Together,  they  added  up  to  $30,000 


By 
Mrs.  BESSIE  M.  LAWRENCE 


"I'm  laid  off,  Mamma." 

His  job  in  a  local  seed  company 
had  folded  under  him.  To  make  it 
worse,  he  had  only  recently  recov- 
ered from  a  bad  sick  spell.  The  doc- 
tor had  prescribed  a  long  rest,  and 
now  it  seemed  likely  that  he  would 
be  forced  to  take  a  longer  one.  His 
physical  condition,  his  age,  both 
would  hinder  his  search  for  new 
work. 

"Well,  Daddy,"  I  said  as  cheer- 
fully as  I  could,  "now  you  can  really 
get  that  rest.  And  we'll  manage 
somehow."  But  I  knew  that  our 
small  savings  account  would  dwin- 
dle further,  and  I'll  confess  to  a 
sinking  feeling  about  the  heart. 

I  wondered  how  I  could  help.  And 
here,  although  I  didn't  dream  of  it 
then,  my  radio  came  to  the  rescue. 
I  had  listened  faithfully  to  the  Ab- 
bott  and    (Continued    on   page   85) 


"This  fabulous  trailer  was  mine — and  new  friends,  too:  here  I  am 
with  Lou,  Earl  Davis  (a  trailer  company  official)  Papa,  Bud,  and 
Adolph  Wenlund  who  supplies  a  lot  of  the  prizes  people  win." 


I 


I 


"It  was  like  a   dream-even  when   we  got  off  the   train  that  had  brought  us  from  Iowa  to  Hollywood 
and  found  Bud  Abbott  (left)  and  Lou  Costello  (right)   waiting  to  lead  papa  and  me  to  our  new  riches. 


I  PRAYED— and  it  happened  to 
me. 
It  still  does  not  seem  possible 
that  it  happened.  It's  like  a  dream 
that  my  husband  and  I  were  sud- 
denly whisked  from  our  little  town 
in  Iowa  into  a  breathtaking  whirl 
of  sightseeing  in  Hollywood.  It's  like 
a  fairy  tale  that  we  are  now  rich 
where  before  we  were  anxious  and 
poor.  It's  incredible,  but  it's  true, 
that  my  letter  on  juvenile  delin- 
quency won  the  $30,000  in  prizes 
offered  by  the  Abbott  and  Costello 
radio  program! 

And  I  have  complete  faith  that  it 
all  came  in  answer  to  prayer,  to 
prayer  offered  humbly  out  of  need. 

I  cannot  say  that  my  husband  and 
I  were  desperately  poor.  In  the 
larger  sense,  even  before  this  radio 
manna  from  heaven  fell  upon  us,  we 
were  rich.    We  have  five  children 


and  eight  grandchildren.  I  am  fifty- 
four  and  Daddy— my  husband — is 
fifty-eight.  We  have  been  married 
for  thirty-five  years,  and  we  have 
worked  hard.  Through  good  times 
and  bad  we  provided  for  our  chil- 
dren until  they  could  take  care  of 
themselves.  The  realization  of  all 
this  is  riches  of  a  kind  that  cannot 
be  measured  in  mere  money. 

And  yet,  this  being  a  practical 
world,  we  had  our  very  real  wor- 
ries. Rearing  five  children  on  a 
workman's  wages  did  not  leave 
much  for  savings.  All  the  children 
—from  Charles,  the  oldest,  who  is 
thirty-four  now,  to  Helen,  the 
youngest,  who  is  twenty-five — were- 
married  and  starting  their  own  fam- 
ilies. We  were  determined  never  to 
be  a  burden  to  them,  no  matter  how 
much  they  loved  us  and  we  loved 
them. 


Daddy  and  I  lived  in  a  two-room 
apartment  over  a  restaurant  in  the 
little  town  of  Shenandoah,  Iowa.  It 
was  comfortable,  even  though  small, 
and  we  liked  it  there,  especially 
when  it  was  crowded  with  visiting 
grandchildren.  One  reporter  has  de- 
scribed our  home  as  "small  and 
cluttered."  Being  a  woman,  I  rather 
resented  that  as  a  reflection  on  my 
housekeeping.  If  he  meant  "clut- 
tered" with  memories  of  our  full 
lives,  with  the  sweet  little  gifts  made 
for  me  by  the  grandchildren,  with 
the  happy  echoes  of  their  little 
voices  asking  for  the  cookie  jar, 
then  I'll  let  it  pass. 

But  one  day  Daddy  came  home 
and  I  sensed  immediately  that  some- 
thing was  wrong.  He  looked  un- 
usually tired,  discouraged,  almost 
beaten.  He  hated  to  tell  me,  but 
finally  it  came  out: 


Prayer  had  something  to  do 
with  it.   So  did  a  mother's 
thoughts  on  juvenile  delinquency. 
Together,  they  added  up  to  $30,000 

By 
Mrs.  BESSIE  M.  LAWRENCE 


The  Abbott  and  Coatello  show  on  which  Mi*.  Lawrence  was  t 
11A.M.  EST,  ABC.      Abbott  and  Coetello  are  alao  heard  Thu 


id  beard  Sat., 
8  P.  M.  EST,  ABC. 


"I'm  laid  off,  Mamma." 

His  job  in  a  local  seed  company 
had  folded  under  him.  To  make  it 
worse,  he  had  only  recently  recov- 
ered from  a  bad  sick  spell.  The  doc- 
tor had  prescribed  a  long  rest,  and 
now  it  seemed  likely  that  he  would 
be  forced  to  take  a  longer  one.  His 
physical  condition,  his  age,  both 
would  hinder  his  search  for  new 
work. 

"Well,  Daddy,"  I  said  as  cheer- 
fully as  I  could,  "now  you  can  really 
get  that  rest.  And  we'll  manage 
somehow."  But  I  knew  that  our 
small  savings  account  would  dwin- 
dle further,  and  I'll  confess  to  a 
sinking  feeling  about  the  heart. 

I  wondered  how  I  could  help.  And 
here,  although  I  didn't  dream  of  it 
then,  my  radio  came  to  the  rescue. 
I  had  listened  faithfully  to  the  Ab- 
oott  and    (Continued   on   page  85) 


"This  fabulous  trailer  was  mine — and  new  friends,  too:  here  I  am 
with  Lon,  Earl  Davis  (a  trailer  company  official)  Papa,  Bud,  and 
Adolph  wenlund  who  supplies  a  lot  of  the  prises  people  win." 


n 


fie 

!'ste*   * 
foal       *° 


9V 


Sl-a 


**>*, 


d*yZh 


°*»«* 


Pro. 


*y 


sis? 


Your  letter  came  a  little  late, 
But,  reminiscing,  I  recall 
That  once  we  had  a  dinner  date, 
And  that  was  all — or  nearly  all. 

Perhaps  there  was  some  other  thing, 
Or  was  that  still  another  lad? 
I  think  it  happened  in  the  spring — 
My    memory   is   very    bad. 

I'm  sure   I  had  a  lovely  time; 
I  think  we  danced  a  little  bit, 
And   I  composed  a  silly  rhyme; 
That  was  about  the  end  of  it. 

But  thank  you  for  the  flowers  you  sent- 
How   lovely — your   remembering  1 
I   know  the  words  were   kindly   meant; 
I   am  obliged  for  everything. 


FROM  A  REBEL  HEART 

That  you  have  never  asked  a  song 
Of   praise   ior   praises   due  you 
Has  kept  my  heart  one  melody 
With  every  song  sung  to  you. 
That  you  have  never  set  a  course 
Commanding  me  to  follow 
Has  kept  me  shadowier  *an 

The  hounds  to  hare  they  follow. 

you.  wiser  than  all  textbooks  are. 
Long  since  have  learned  the  art 

Of  mastering  by  non-demand 
This  once  rebellious  heart. 

--Virginia  Scott  Mrner 


*m 


>ya 


.reader    £er>t 


««^«*«l^.^«Tfi?-   ^e 


^^k^setJ'S 


ooJte 


°°    <*€ 


JO 


f    £ad/°    MirreSS  to?*?*    to 


Th^r„ 
ttits  " 


*^r 


paSes. 


— — 


Nol  wrapped  in  crisp  tissue  and  topped 

with  a  bow 
Was  the  small  gift  he  sets  on  the  table; 
Not  tied  with  red  ribbon,  nor  splendid 

with  stars; 
But  here  was  the  truth  of  the  fable- 
Though  pieces  of  paper  confettied  the 

place 
From  his  efforts  in  wrapping  it  up, 
I  visioned  the  light  on  his  small,  earn- 
est face, 
And  I  knew  that  his  heart  was  a  cup 
Brimming  over  with  love  as  he  wrapped 

"P  my  gift 
On  that  night  of  a  distant  December; 
And  of  all  the  grand  parcels  I  opened 

next  day — 
Hh  is  the  one  I  remember! 

—Pauline  Havard 


THE  PHASE  IS  FAMILIAR 

I  find 

J  don't  mind 

Taking  chances 

With  romances 

Because,    while    P-r«n9 

*we»  sorrow 
With  those  who  are  here  today 
gone  tomorrow, 

•     ioM  feeling  vaguely  re- 
And  one  is    left  teeitna 

gretful— 
After  all,  I  AM  very  forgetful- 

An  _Rod  Maclean 


i 

W 


'(I  S\  ,v 


# 


saw,  «gAts 

Und^stood')     man    said    - 
p  '  '    a   man 

Cf  -^,  tA°Se^iad 

tent--      dv«Wy,   Ca> 

ner«A  her  ,      t  *''    Co«- 

_  nod;       ner  Cr°chetin„ 

re^afa      ,  g'Stmi»gto 

God.        a  fa<*  like  his  n- 

"SS^'— ... 

•J 


T 


0 


ICE 


VICE 


What  is  father  to  a  little  boy? 
A  voice  rolling  off  the  Siege  of  Troy, 
A  Santa  Claus  bringing  a  coveted  toy; 
Escort  when  the  circus  comes, 
Oracle  in  arithmetic  sums, 
Purveyor  of  candy,  best  of  chums. 

What  is  mother  to  a  little  boy? 
A  grim  command,  a  homeward  convoy, 
Hands  that  withhold  an  undeserved  toy, 
An  ear  that  seems  deaf  to  repentance 

and  rue; 
It's  hard  to  believe,  and  yet  it's  true 
That  a  little  ******  Uum  hie  mother,  tc 


He  who  cuts  a  figure  eight 
M,out  me  as!  concentrate 

.       nraceful  when  I  skate 
On  being  graceru 


1  hotel 


-Addison 


H.  HoHock 


^Yk* 


little  boy  loves  his  mother,  too!  ^V^Vk ' 

—May  Riehstone  *  "  »  * 


Jul/ 


/  II 


c0X&i 


T3lM 


B 


.tBSS«D 


GIFT  LINES 

Since  you  would  like  to  know  what 
special  yen 
Is  circulating  through  my  head. 
It's  this:  don't  ask  me  what  I  want  and 
then 
Secure  me  something  else  instead! 
— S.  H.  Dewhurst 


yjho 


t\ev« 


ieb 


the 


urg*      the  d«tft«*e  *«J> 

To  roaTQ  *  piodded  by  bat  gave  n 

But.**  to  ^et 

birth,  up0n  a   H 

lives   ana   °l  grassy 

v#ho  bves  &iget    gr 

street  i„„.wiU0% 

"$/herp 


( 


>v. 


'/J    I 


l^es    and   drea    "  T    atassy      V 

bo  bves  &iget    gr 

street         „;ne-'Wul0  -,H- 

jgee    ***B*  tnU  tbtou^  A 

SroUn?^  and  blue°  Y  „;ce  or      #f 

^eT  ,      pledge  oi  eartb 

^et  *l  and  God  •      • 

*tatS'  „  vnth  mau  auu         . 
\t  peace  ^u  Lun(A  U>w 

M  ;at\sned-  ^Christie     ^^^— 


L     s? 


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DEAR  BILL: 
Radio  Mirror's  Prize  Poem 

Your  letter  came  a  little  late, 
But,  reminiscing,  I  recall 
That  once  we  had  a  dinner  date, 
And  that  wai  all— or  nearly  all. 

Perhaps  there  was  some  other  thinq, 
Or  was  that  still  another  lad? 
I  think  it  happened  in  the  spring — 
My   memory  is   very   bad. 

I'm  sure   I   had  a  lovely  time; 
I  think  we  danced  a  little  bit, 
And   I   composed  a  silly  rhyme; 
That  was  about  the  end  of  it. 

But  thank  you  for  the  flowers  you  sent- 
How   lovely— your   rememberlngl 

know  the   words  were   kindly  meant; 
I   am  obliged  for  everything. 

My  note   may  reach  you  rother  late; 
Perhaps  this  is  the  better  way 
(The   date  was  such  a  little  date) 
My  son — and  Jim's — came  yesterday. 

— Faye   Chilcote   Walket 


CHILD'S  GIFT 

Not  wrapped  In  crifp  „„„.  „nd 

with  a  bow 
Was  the  .mall  gift  he  eel.  on  Ihe  table- 
Not  Bed  with  red  ribbon,  „„  ,p,.n(fld 

with  stars; 
Bui  here  was  Ihe  trulh  of  the  fable— 
Though  pi.e„  of  pap,r  c.nh|H 

place 
From  his  effort,  j„  wrapping  It  op, 
I  vision.,  lh„  ,,„„,  „„  Ml 

est  face. 
And  I  knew  lhal  his  heart  wo.  a  cup 
Brimming  over  with  love  a.  he  wrapped 

"P  my  gift 
On  that  nighl  of  a  distant  December; 
And  of  all  the  g,„„d  p„rc„,  ,  d 

next  day — 
Hit  is  the  one  I  remember! 

— Pauline  Havard 


FROM  A  REBEL  HEART 
Thai  you  have  never  asked  a  song 
Of   praise  lot   praiee.   due  you 
Has  kept  my  heart  one  melody 
With  every  song  sung  to  you. 
m     That  you  have  never  set  a  course 
■     commanding  me  to  tallow 
9!     Has  kept  me  shadow-closer  than 
'     The  hounds  to  hare  they  follow. 
A  ,     you.  wise,  than  all  textbooks  are, 
/  (J     leng  mnce  have  learned  the  art 
Of  mastering  by  non-demand 
This  once  rebellious  heart. 

—Virginia  Scott  Miner 


k   * 


KH 


'**■►*? 


**>* 

^ 


*». 


THE  PHASE  IS  FAMILIAR 

I  find 

I  don't  mind 
Taking  chance. 
With  romance. 

B...U..,    while    porting    I.    «"* 

sw«el  sorrow  . 

With  .has.  who  or.  n- »'"'*  °nd 

gone  tomorrow, 
And  on.  1.    leftf.."".™-"""0- 

grelful— 
After  all,  I  AW  very  forgetful. 

—Rod  Maclean 


1  *&«•;:::  ^w 


'  '  'O'irer 
Th         d  *>«*  0a„,  """"ess, 


11  Jro, 


«ers. 


tto 


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•  ac'o» 


"JUent  , 


"J- A, 


eart 


Of, 


*  ror. 


caress 
n,i**«c.  USio^de,;t 


fVn* 


J"S  Ru 


issell 


"  *>on  s  situ 


[\ 


„MWf  'h°  *eh,s  ,h  ls"1 

ran'"«  ^sh  fr  °'d  »-«. 

""■'•"Wood./    raa»   .-aid    a 
Part  of  „■  """■ 

?pe„   *«  »o»der,  „  ,, 

°°e^Aier  ^   "->•    co„. 

Cod.        a  face  Jiie  j  ,0 


TWO  LOVES 

What  Is  father  to  a  little  boy? 
A  vole*  rolling  off  lh*  Slag*  of  Troy, 
A  Santa  Claus  bringing  a  covoted  toy; 
Escort  when  the  circus  comes, 
Oracle  in  arithmetic  sums. 
Purveyor  of  candy,  best  of  chums. 

What  is  mother  to  a  little  boy? 
A  grim  command,  a  homeward  convoy. 
Hands  that  withhold  an  undeserved  toy. 
An  ear  that  seems  deaf  to  repentance 

and  rue; 
It's  hard  to  believe,  and  ytt  it's  true 
That  a  little  boy  loves  his  mother,  toot 
— May  Richitone 


GIFT  LINES 
Since  you  would  like  to  know  what 
special  yen 
Is  circulating  through  my  head. 
It's  this:  don't  ask  me  what  I  want  and 
then 
Secure  me  something  else  instead) 
— S.  H.  Dewhurst 


ICE  VICE 

Hewhocutsafl9««flloM 
About  me  os  .concentrate 
On  be-.no  graced  when  UWote 

I  hclel 


^K' 


, 


BlM 


BUSSED 


[e\<  ' 


v  cout*1   Y^o,.- 

blr*'  „  dreams  «»  »  *" 

*T   °"         ,l0«Snneer    ^ 
street  .^  ^ 

#W"Ll  <*>*  *    '  „ice  or 

nr^vsu-*^*" 

T-r    „.*-- 

in  the  even." *  ^  t*« 

Thmherehu^-  ^ 

ES^co^-„, *«' 

fl^;*.»-*--* 

^e(  W'  „  and  Ooi  •  •  ' 


«-^e.n*e^«1^      ,  „„d 

Vf>  «nd  God  •  •  ' 

st«5'  ,  „i*  man  ana 


•v.r>;ii 


Bernard  Estrin  has  come  a  long,  long  way 


through  a  dark  country  for  which  there  were  no  maps 


BERNARD  ESTRIN,  our  Traveler  of  the  Month,  really 
had  come  a  long  way  when  I  met  him — all  the  way 

:  from  self-pity  and  despair  to  a  brave,  hopeful  future. 

In  miles,  it  wasn't  far— just  from  St.  Louis  to  Chicago. 
But  he  traveled  those  miles  in  a  wheel  chair,  and  brought 
to  all  of  us  at  Welcome  Travelers  a  rare  story  of  courage 
and  spirit. 

It's  the  story  of  a  young  Navy  veteran  who,  when 
stricken  with  polio  at  the  age  of  27,  forgot  his  own  pain 
and  paralysis  by  becoming  the  "wheelchair  disc  jockey" 
for  all  the  other  wounded,  sick  men  at  the  Veterans  Hos- 
pital, Jefferson  Barracks,  in  St.  Louis.  Happily,  it's  also 
the  story  of  a  person  who  found  a  new  life  for  himself, 
a  promising  new  career,  while  trying  to  bring  a  little 
diversion  into  the  bed-ridden  lives  of  his  fellow  patients. 

You  see,  Bernard  Estrin,  the  hospital  disc  jockey,  now 
plans  to  go  into  radio.  In  a  sense,  his  appearance  on 
Welcome  Travelers  was  his  real  radio  debut.  The  few 
moments  that  he  chatted  with  me  before  our  ABC  micro- 
phone had  all  of  the  drama  and  excitement  of  a  first  night 
on  Broadway. 

You  have  to  hear  the  whole  story,  however,  to  appre- 
ciate the  significance  of  those  few  moments.  So  let  me 
recall  that  story  for  you  now,  and  show  you  how  far  our 
Traveler  of  the  Month  has  traveled. 

Bernard,  a  clean-cut,  well-built  young  man,  grew  up 
right  in  Chicago — the  city  from  which  Welcome  Travelers 
is  broadcast.  He  was  graduated  from  high  school  and 
then,  like  millions  of  other  boys,  looked  for  his  first  job. 

Because  he  loved  airplanes,  he  hung  around  Chicago's 
airports — just  another  nice  kid  with  sky  fever,  another 
boy  who  wanted  wings. 

He  got  the  first  feather  in  those  wings  washing  dishes 
at  an  airport  restaurant.  A  little  later,  he  worked  for 
TWA  as  a  cargo  handler.  Then,  only  19  years  old,  he  got 


By 

TOMMY 
BARTLETT 


M.C.  of  Welcome  Travel- 
era,  heard  Mon.-Fri.  at 
12  Noon,  EST,  over  ABC. 


a  good  job:    he  became   a   passenger  agent  for  TWA. 

The  world  was  a  wonderful  place  for  that  boy  of  19. 
He  was  making  lots  of  money,  bringing  Mom  little  pres- 
ents on  pay  nights  and  taking  out  a  flock  of  pretty  girls. 
It  was  a  world  in  which  sickness  was  only  a  word,  in 
which  no  one  stood  still.  It  was  a  world  which  came  to 
an  end  with  the  war,  a  world  which,  for  Bernard  Estrin, 
at  least,,  will  never  again  exist. 

At  19,  he  went  into  the  Navy.  He  got  to  be  a  Specialist, 
First  Class,  a  weight  computer  for  an  Air  Transport 
Squadron.  For  three-and-one-half  years,  he  was  in  the 
Pacific.  Not  the  glory  stuff,  you  understand,  just  heat 
and  work,  just  sweating  it  out,  and  occasionally  ducking 
for  a  fox  hole  when  the  Jap  bombers  came  over.  And  all 
the  time,  of  course,  he  was  thinking  about  his  job  back 
with  TWA. 

At  last,  the  day  came:  December  23,  1945.  He  was  a 
civilian  again.  His  family  had  moved  to  St.  Louis,  and 
Bernard  became  a  TWA  passenger  agent  in  that  city. 
He  was  young  and  doing  well,  and  each  new  morning 
had  a  bright  and  special  shine. 

Then,  in  August,  1946,  he  came  down  with  polio.  Just 
like  that.  Fourteen  days  of  pain,  fog  and  fever  in  a 
hospital  isolation  ward,  with  time  only  to  suffer,  and  no 
time  to  think.  After  that,  the  Veterans  Hospital,  with 
nothing  but  time.  Time  to  think,  time  to  suffer,  time 
to  think  about  suffering.   As  Bernard  recalled  to  me: 

"I'd  just  lie  there  and  try  to  figure  out  why  I  was 
being  punished,  why  this  awful  thing  had  happened  to 
me.   I  couldn't  move  a  muscle,  then.  I  could  only  think." 

In  time,  with  the  fine  treatments  provided  by  the  Vet- 
erans Administration,  Bernard  began  to  reclaim  a  part 
of  his  body.  One  hand  worked  well,  the  other,  pretty 
well.  The  arms  were  coming  along.  The  legs  would  move 
when  supported  by  braces. 

"There  were  other  boys  with  polio.  A  few  died,  and 
the  rest  were  like  me.  We  were  of  all  faiths  and  creeds, 
and  we  all  prayed.  No  one  begrudged  the  other  his 
special  faith.  We  couldn't  afford  the  luxury  of  prejudice. 
We  just  prayed." 

Bernard  tried  to  keep  himself  busy.  With  his  stiff 
hands,  he  tried  to  knit  a  cap  for  his  young  nephew  back 
in  Chicago.  He  tried  writing  letters.  He  tried.  Slowly, 
he  was  emerging  from  the  worst  despair  of  his  illness. 
As  he  said: 

"One  day,  a  boy  with  an  incurable  disease  came  and 
sat  by  my  bed.  He  was  wonderfully  cheerful,  and  told 
me  to  buck  up.  For  the  very  first  time,  I  realized  that 
there  were  others  who  were  even  worse  off  than  I  was. 


46 


jA----fu--^^- 


Bernard  Estrin's  appearance 
on  Welcome  Travelers  was 
a  sort  of  debut,  for  he 
hopes  to  embark  on  a 
career  as  a  radio  disc  jockey. 


"So  I  took  a  big  step  forward,  at  least  for  me.  I  started 
wondering  if,  after  all,  there  still  could  be  some  sort  of  a 
useful  life  for  me.  I  didn't  know  what  it  would  be,  but 
at  least  my  ideas  were  beginning  to  go  down  a  useful 
channel." 

|N  the  hospital  there  was  a  one-lung  "radio  network." 
*  A  patient  acted  as  a  disc  jockey,  and  his  patter  and 
music  were  beamed  into  all  of  the  wards.  There  are 
bigger  networks,  of  course,  but  it's  hard  to  imagine  one 
with  a  more  faithful  listening  public.  As  Bernard  joked: 

"Our  radio  station  has  a  Hooper  of  700— that's  how 
many  beds  there  are.  But  there's  one  thing  you  can  bet 
on — we  don't  miss  out  on  a  single  potential  listener.  They 
have  to  listen.  There's  no  place  they  can  go." 

One  day,  the  boy  who  was  acting  as  disc  jockey  became 
too  sick  to  continue  his  work.  The  people  in  charge 
looked  around  for  a  replacement.  Bernard  Estrin  was 
intelligent,  a  good  talker  and  the  possessor  of  an  authori- 


tative, pleasant  voice.  They  offered  him  the  job  and  he 
snapped  it  up. 

"At  least,"  he  said,  "it  was  going  to  be  something 
different.  I  had  no  idea  how  a  disc  jockey  operated,  but 
it  was  wonderful  to  think  that  I  would  be  doing  some- 
thing again." 

Bernard  was  nervous  that  first  day,  but  he  was  a 
definite  hit.  The  patients  liked  his  cheerful  manner,  en- 
joyed the  way  he  kidded  his  own  sickness  and  theirs  by 
referring  to  them  as  "sackhounds."  They  laughed  at  his 
jokes  and,  overnight,  Bernard  was  a  celebrity  in  the 
hospital. 

After  that,  a  two-hour  daily  program  was  ushered  in 
with  these  words: 

"This  is  your  old  wheelchair  disc  jockey  again,  you 
gimped-up  old  goldbricks." 

These  words,  his  listeners  came  to  know,  were  the 
signal  for  casual  chatter  about  different  patients,  news 
of   hospital   doings   and   long    (Continued   on   page  97) 


47 


ILL 


Bernard  Estrin  hag  come  a  long,  long  way  .  .  .  through  a  dark  country  for  which  there  were  no  maps 


BERNARD  ESTRIN,  our  Traveler  of  the  Month,  really 
had  come  a  long  way  when  I  met  him — all  the  way 
from  self-pity  and  despair  to  a  brave,  hopeful  future. 
In  miles,  it  wasn't  far— just  from  St.  Louis  to  Chicago. 
But  he  traveled  those  miles  in  a  wheel  chair,  and  brought 
to  all  of  us  at  Welcome  Travelers  a  rare  story  of  courage 
..rid  spirit. 

It's  the  story  of  a  young  Navy  veteran  who,  when 
stricken  with  polio  at  the  age  of  27,  forgot  his  own  pain 
and  paralysis  by  becoming  the  "wheelchair  disc  jockey" 
foi  -ill  the  other  wounded,  sick  men  at  the  Veterans  Hos- 
pital, Jefferson  Barracks,  in  St.  Louis.  Happily,  it's  also 
the  story  of  a  person  who  found  a  new  life  for  himself, 
a  promising  new  career,  while  trying  to  bring  a  little 
diversion  into  the  bed-ridden  lives  of  his  fellow  patients. 

You  see,  Bernard  Estrin,  the  hospital  disc  jockey,  now 
plans  to  go  into  radio.  In  a  sense,  his  appearance  on 
Welcome  Travelers  was  his  real  radio  debut.  The  few 
moments  that  he  chatted  with  me  before  our  ABC  micro- 
phone had  all  of  the  drama  and  excitement  of  a  first  night 
on  Broadway. 

You  have  to  hear  the  whole  story,  however,  to  appre- 
ciate the  significance  of  those  few  moments.  So  let  me 
recall  that  story  for  you  now,  and  show  you  how  far  our 
Traveler  of  the  Month  has  traveled. 

Bernard,  a  clean-cut,  well-built  young  man,  grew  up 
right  in  Chicago — the  city  from  which  Welcome  Travelers 
is  broadcast.  He  was  graduated  from  high  school  and 
then,  like  millions  of  other  boys,  looked  For  his  first  job. 

Because  he  loved  airplanes,  he  hung  around  Chicago's 
airports — just  another  nice  kid  with  sky  fever,  another 
boy  who  wanted  wings. 

He  got  the  first  feather  in  those  wings  washing  dishes 
at  an  airport  restaurant.  A  little  later,  he  worked  for 
TWA  us  a  cargo  handler.  Then,  only  19  years  old,  he  got 


By 

TOMMY 

BARTLETT 


M .< :.  of  Woloom*  Tra*«l- 
rri,    h«wd    Mon.-Krl.    «t 

II  n.k.m,  BSTtvm  IBG 


p 


a  good   job:    he  became   a   passenger  agent   for   TWA. 

The  world  was  a  wonderful  place  for  that  boy  of  19. 
He  was  making  lots  of  money,  bringing  Mom  little  pres- 
ents on  pay  nights  and  taking  out  a  flock  of  pretty  girls. 
It  was  a  world  in  which  sickness  was  only  a  word,  in 
which  no  one  stood  still.  It  was  a  world  which  came  to 
an  end  with  the  war,  a  world  which,  for  Bernard  Estrin, 
at  least,  will  never  again  exist. 

At  19,  he  went  into  the  Navy.  He  got  to  be  a  Specialist. 
First  Class,  a  weight  computer  for  an  Air  Transport 
Squadron.  For  three-and-one-half  years,  he  was  in  the 
Pacific.  Not  the  glory  stuff,  you  understand,  just  heat 
and  work,  just  sweating  it  out,  and  occasionally  ducking 
for  a  fox  hole  when  the  Jap  bombers  came  over.  And  all 
the  time,  of  course,  he  was  thinking  about  his  job  back 
with  TWA. 

At  last,  the  day  came:  December  23,  1945.  He  was  a 
civilian  again.  His  family  had  moved  to  St.  Louis,  and 
Bernard  became  a  TWA  passenger  agent  in  that  city. 
He  was  young  and  doing  well,  and  each  new  morning 
had  a  bright  and  special  shine. 

Then,  in  August,  1946,  he  came  down  with  polio.  Just 
like  that.  Fourteen  days  of  pain,  fog  and  fever  in  a 
hospital  isolation  ward,  with  time  only  to  suffer,  and  no 
time  to  think.  After  that,  the  Veterans  Hospital,  with 
nothing  but  time.  Time  to  think,  time  to  suffer,  time 
to  think  about  suffering.   As  Bernard  recalled  to  me: 

"I'd  just  lie  there  and  try  to  figure  out  why  I  was 
being  punished,  why  this  awful  thing  had  happened  to 
me.   I  couldn't  move  a  muscle,  then.  I  could  only  think. " 

In  time,  with  the  fine  treatments  provided  by  the  Vet- 
erans Administration,  Bernard  began  to  reclaim  a  part 
of  his  body.    One  hand  worked  well,  the  other,  pretty 
well.  The  arms  were  coming  along.  The  legs  would  mo. 
when  supported  by  braces. 

"There  were  other  boys  with  polio.  A  few  died,  and 
the  rest  were  like  me.  We  were  of  all  faiths  and  creeds, 
and  we  all  prayed.  No  one  begrudged  the  other  his 
special  faith.  We  couldn't  afford  the  luxury  of  prejudice. 
We  just  prayed." 

Bernard  tried  to  keep  himself  busy.  With  his  stiff 
hands,  he  tried  to  knit  a  cap  for  bis  young  nephew  back 
in  Chicago.  He  tried  writing  letters.  He  tried.  Slowly, 
he  was  emerging  from  the  worst  despair  of  his  illness. 
As  he  said: 

"One  day,  a  boy  with  an  incurable  disease  came  and 
sat  by  my  bed.  He  was  wonderfully  cheerful,  and  told 
me  to  buck  up.  For  the  very  first  time,  I  realized  that 
there  were  others  who  were  even  worse  off  than  I  was. 


r 


those  provided  by  hi8  dauntl 


Bernard  Estrin's  appearance 
on  Welcome  Travelers  was 
a  sort  of  debnl,  for  he 
hopes  lo  embark  on  a 
career  as  a  radio  disc  jockey. 


"So  I  took  a  big  step  forward,  at  least  for  me.  I  started 
wondering  rf,  after  all,  there  still  could  be  some  sort  of. 
useful  life  for  me.  I  didn't  know  what  it  would  be,  but 
aMeast  my  ,deas  were  beginning  to  go  down  a  useful 

|N  the  hospital  there  was  a  one-lung  "radio  network" 

A  patient  acted  as  a  disc  jockey,  and  his  patter  and 

mus.c  were  beamed  into  all  of  the  wards.    There  are 

tagger  networks    of  course,  but  it's  hard  to  imagine  one 

"n,    m°TI  falthfuI  ]ist«"ng  public.   As  Bernard  joked: 

uur  radio  station  has  a  Hooper  of  700-that's  how 

"any  beds  there  are.  But  there's  one  thing  you  can  bet 

n    we  don  t  miss  out  on  a  single  potential  listener.  They 

(L     ,  sten-  """re's  no  place  they  can  go." 

One  day,  the  boy  who  was  acting  as  disc  jockey  became 

Cf!>      '°  continue  his   work.    The  people  in  charge 

in?  lr    around  for  a  replacement.    Bernard  Estrin  was 

■nieuigent,  a  good  talker  and  the  possessor  of  an  authori- 


tative, pleasant  voice.  They  offered  him  the  job  and  he 
snapped  it  up. 

different.  I  had  no  idea  how  a  disc  jockey  operate,!  but 
it  was  wonderful  to  think  that  I  would  be  doing  some- 
thing again." 

Bernard  was  nervous  that  first  day,  but  he  was  a 
definite  hit.  The  patients  liked  his  cheerful  manner  en- 
joyed the  way  he  kidded  his  own  sickness  and  theirs  by 
referring  to  them  as  "sackhounds."  They  laughed  at  his 
jokes  and,  overnight,  Bernard  was  a  celebrity  in  the 
hospital. 

After  that,  a  two-hour  daily  program  was  ushered  In 
with  these  words: 

"This  is  your  old  wheelchair  disc  jockey  again,  you 
gimped-up  old  goldbricks." 

These  words,  his  listeners  came  to  know,  were  the 
signal  for  casual  chatter  about  different  patients,  news 
of   hospital   doings   and   long    (Continued   on   page  87) 


USTta  COAST 


Pretty  Kyle  MacDonnell  waits  for  her  cue 
on  Girl  About  Town,  WNBT,  Wed.,  8  P.M. 


Johnny  Olsen,  m.c,  with  Doorway  to  Fame's 
producers,  Geo.  Sheck   (1),  Lou  Dahlman. 


Back    from    France, 
WABD's    Sylvie    Si 
Clair,   and   Pat   Roc. 


Spotlighted  by  NBC  Television  Newsreel  were  screen  star  Joan  CaulfieJd  and 
fellow  guests  at  the  cartoon  exhibit  held  recently  at  Town  Hall,  New  York. 


THE  poor,  long-suffering  commercial,  which  has  come  in  for  so 
much  abuse  in  radio,  finds  itself  very  popular  with  television 
fans.  In   every  poll  of  televiewers,  a  large  percentage  mention 
that  they  actually  enjoy  the  visual  sales  talks.    Credit  goes  to 
the  ad  agencies  which  are  turning   out  so  many  really   clever 

commercials.' 

*  *  * 

Texas  will  have  a  five-station  television  network  in  the  not- 
too-distant  future-  The  Texas  Telenet  System,  Inc.,  has  filed 
applications  for  Fort  Worth,  Waco,  Austin,  San  Antonio,  and 
Corpus  Christi.  One  of  the  big  stockholders  in  Telenet  is  Gov- 
ernor Beauford  Jester  himself! 

*  *  * 

Television  clauses  are  being  inserted  into  the  contracts  of  all 
movie,  radio,  and  stage  personalities.  Although  video  still  does 
not  pay  anywhere  near  the  large  fees  that  talent  has  come  to 
expect  from  the  other  media,  producers  and  managers  consider 
it  all-important  as  a  showcase  and  experience  for  their  stars. 

*  *  * 

Chicago  televiewers,,  who  have  been  seeing  the  home  games 
of  Notre  Dame,  Illinois,  and  Purdue  this  (Continued  on  page  87) 


Grand  opening:  Mutual-Don  Lee's  $3,000,000 
radio-television     building,     in     Hollywood. 


TSO 


< 

y^                                            .>l-tAOi   \  STING  V,  STtM 

w    t 

1         \BfrU, 

1 

UJIi 

^     .  .  HI 

RADIO 


MIRROR 


^■a 


is  seen  and  heard  on 
WABD's  The  Alan  Dale 
Show  on  Tuesdays  from 
7  to  7:15  P.M.  This 
.program  has  a  musical 
format  with  songs  pro- 
vided by  Alan  and 
Janie  Ford,  and  com- 
edy interspersed  with 
guests. 

Alan,  a  product  of 
Brooklyn  where  he 
was  born  on  July  9, 
1925,  went  to  Lafay- 
ette High  and  has 
lived  in  Brooklyn  ever  since.  His  father  was  a 
comedian  and  played  the  vaudeville  circuits  in 
various  parts  of  the  country.  As  far  as  vocal 
coaching  is  concerned,  Alan  has  had  very  little. 
He  comes  by  his  singing  as  easily  and  naturally 
as  he  grins. 

Alan's  career  started  in  an  unusual  manner. 
While  strolling  down  the  boardwalk  at  Coney 
Island  with  a  friend  they  passed  an  open  air  cafe 
where  they  saw  a  young  girl  struggling  to  sing 
along  with  the  band.  His  friend  dared  Alan  to 
go  up  and  apply  for  a  job  as  the  singer.  Alan 
took  the  dare,  got  the  job,  and  has  been  singing 
ever  since.  It  didn't  take  long  for  his  reputation 
to  spread.  He  was  soon  signed  up  by  Carmen 
Cavallaro,  and  later  by  George  Paxton.  In  1947 
he  started  out  on  his  own  as  a  singer. 


is  the  only  regular 
member  of  the  panel 
of  experts  on  Amer- 
icana, television  quiz 
show  on  WNBT  and 
the  NBC  video  net- 
work, Mondays  at 
8:30  P.M. 

Vivian,  only  17,  al- 
ready a  most  accom- 
plished .  young  lady. 
She  was  born  and 
lives   in    the   Bronx, 

N.  Y.,  and  she  is  brainy  as  well  as  good  to  look 
at.  She  has  actually  turned  down  motion  pic- 
ture contracts  in  order  to  study  for  a  law  degree, 
at  Fordham  University,  and  someday  be  elected 
to  Congress! 

Last  June,  Vivian  graduated  from  St.  Barnabas 
High  where  she  was  the  president  of  the  Debat- 
ing Society  and  where  she  received  degrees  in 
merit,  honor  and  excellence.  And  to  top  this, 
she  recently  won  the  city-wide  oratorical  contest 
for  high  school  students  in  New  York,  then 
placed  second  in  the  finals — which  were  open  to 
every  eligible  high  school  student  in  the  United 
States.  Although  she  has  been  getting  marks  of 
90  or  better  all  her  school  days,  Vivian  is  not  a 
bookworm,  She  has  appeared  as  a  pianist  in 
school  concerts,  served  on  the  Year  Book  and 
the  school  paper.  She  enjoys  dancing,  swimming, 
and  horseback  riding.  Add  to  all  this  the  fact 
that  she  is  also  an  excellent  cook,  and  you  must 
agree  that  Vivian  should  certainly  be  an  inspira- 
tion to  young  televiewers. 


J^wj^  gP&t/u&A 


who  is  Jennifer  Allen 
in  Barney  Blake,  Po- 
lice Reporter,  Thurs., 
9:30  P.M.  on  WNBT, 
like  her  co-star,  Gene 
O'Donnell,  was  born  in  Eagle  Grove,  Iowa. 

Member  of  a  family  comprised  mostly  of 
lawyers  and  teachers,  Judy  showed  a  talent  for 
the  stage,  and  following  her  graduation  from 
Prairie  du  Chien,  Wis.,  she  entered  the  Amer- 
ican Academy  of  Dramatic  Arts  in  New  York. 

She  made  her  theatrical  debut  in  "Stage  Door." 
Later,  while  appearing  "in  "Kiss  and  Tell"  she 
eloped  with  another  member  of  the  cast,  John 
Harvey.  They  went  to  Hollywood,  where  Judy 
retired  to  become  a  mother  and  raise  daughter 
Jody.  In  her  spare  time  she  helped  run  an 
interior  decorating  firm.  But  the  fascination  of 
the  stage  was  too  strong  and  it  wasn't  long  be- 
fore she  came  out  of  retirement  to  appear  in  the 
Chicago  production  of  "Dream  Girl"  and  even- 
tually, her  present  role  as  Jennifer  Allen. 


£cAn  £ft//ma*i 


has  been  hiding  his 
attractive  features  be- 
hind a  microphone  for 
some  fourteen  years, 
but  now  he  is  seen  as 
well  as  heard  as  star 
master  of  ceremonies 
for  New  York  Daily 
News'  television  sta- 
tion, WPIX. 

John  really  isn't  new 
to  television;  he's  one 
of  the  very  few  people 
to  have  been  televised  in  color.  He  has  been 
the  master  of  ceremonies  for  thirty  CBS  color 
demonstrations  which  were,  of  course,  never 
shown  to  the  public, '  since  color  will  not  be 
permitted  on  television  for  some  time. 

When  John  was  sixteen  years  old,  he  decided 
that  radio  was  for  him.  And  so,  enrolling  as  a 
student  at  Emory  University  at  Atlanta,  Georgia, 
he  registered  for  all  the  courses  related  to  the 
field  of  radio.  After  graduation,  he  got  himself 
a  job  as  announcer  on  WSB  in  that  city.  He  was 
on  their  staff  for  four  years.  Then  the  program 
director  of  WHAS,  Louisville,  Kentucky,  signed 
him  as  Director  of  Public  Affairs  (his  college 
major,  incidentally)   and  Special  Events. 

In  1939  he  sent  an  audition  record  to  CBS  in 
New  York  and,  shortly  after,  much  to  his  amaze- 
ment, was  asked  to  follow  the  recording  in  per- 
son. His  appearance  must  have  been  favorable; 
he  was  added  to  the  CBS  announcing  staff  nine 
years  ago.  You  probably  have  heard  him  on  the 
popular  band  show  Matinee  at  Meadowbrook, 
and  as  announcer  of  Time  to  Remember,  School 
of  the  Air,  and  the  Stradivari  Orchestra. 

Now  you  can  watch  boyish-looking  Tillman  as 
he  presents  Gloria  Swanson  on  her  regular  video 
show,  as  he  masters  the  ceremonies  for  The  Song 
Shop,  and  as  newscaster  on  WPIX. 

His  only  hobby  is  his  twenty-months-old  son, 
John  Stephen  Tillman  III.  John  met  his  talented 
and  charming  wife,  Patricia,  when  she  was 
writing  scripts  at  CBS. 


ELEVISION        SECTION 


49 


7  to  COAST 


Prelly  Kyle  MacDonnell  wails  for  her  cue 
on  Girl  About  Town.  WNBT,  Wed.,  8  P.M. 


Jobnny  Olsen,  m.c,  with  Doorway  to  Fan 
producers,  Geo.  Sheck   (1),  Lou  Dablm 


Back     from    Fran 


WABD's     Sylvie     S^^> 
Clair,  and    Pol    Rrjf 


Spotlighted  by  NBC  Television  Newsreel  were  screen  star  Joan  Caulfield  and 
fellow  guests  at  the  cartoon  exhibit  held  recently  at  Town  Hall,  New  York. 

THE  poor,  long-suffering  commercial,  which  has  come  in  for  so 
much  abuse  in  radio,  finds  itself  very  popular  with  television 
fans.  In  every  poll  of  televiewers,  a  large  percentage  mention 
that  they  actually  enjoy  the  visual  sales  talks.  Credit  goes  to 
the  ad  agencies  which  are  turning  out  so  many  really  clever 
commercials. ' 

Texas  will  have  a  five-station  television  network  in  the  not- 
too-distant  future.  The  Texas  Telenet  System,  Inc.,  has  filed 
applications  for  Fort  Worth,  Waco,  Austin,  San  Antonio,  and 
Corpus  Christi.  One  of  the  big  stockholders  in  Telenet  is  Gov- 
ernor Beauford  Jester  himself! 

Television  clauses  are  being  inserted  into  the  contracts  of  all 
movie,  radio,  and  stage  personalities.  Although  video  still  does 
not  pay  anywhere  near  the  large  fees  that  talent  has  come  to 
expect  from  the  other  media,  producers  and  managers  consider 
it  all-important  as  a  showcase  and  experience  for  their  stars. 

Chicago  televiewers,  who  have  been  seeing  the  home  garnes 
of  Notre  Dame,  Illinois,  and  Purdue  this  (Continued  on  page  87) 


Grand  opening:  Mutual-Don  Lee's  $3,000,000 
radio-television     building,     in     Hollywood. 


m 


■  'J/an    Ql„/e 

wfffr".  SJd  heard  on 
WABD'sThe  Alan  Dale 
Show  on  Tuesdays  from 


^  7  to  7:15  P.M.  This 
w  program  has  a  musical 
,  '  format  with  songs  pro- 
vided by  Alan  and 
Janie  Ford,  and  com- 
edy interspersed  with 
guests. 

Alan,  a  product  of 
Brooklyn  where  he 
was  born  on  July  9, 
1925,  went  to  Lafay- 
lived  in  Brooklyn  ever  since  Hi!?Li,and  has 
comedian  and  played  the  vaudevllSdrcuTtfin 
various  parts  of  the  country.  As  far  as  voca^ 
H»C,nm!  V™.«»«><i,  Alan  has  had  very  HUle 
fs  heTfnsy     S  S'nglng  "  easil*  and  "Orally 

along  with  the  band.  His  friend  dgaredgA?antf 
f°  ^™a  apply  ,or  a  S°°  as  the  singer  Alan 
took  the  dare,  got  the  job,  and  has  been  sin^ine 

to%£Ed  •  Hedwn,t  take  l0ng  *?  hi  "~on 
to  spread.    He  was  soon  signed  up  by  Carmen 

S^I^h'  a"?  lateur  by  Geor8e  paxton.  Inl947 
he  started  out  on  his  own  as  a  singer. 


'I'iviaii   Sfevtaei 

is  the  only  regular 
member  of  the  panel 
of  experts  on  Amer- 
icana, television  quiz 
show  on  WNBT  and 
the  NBC  video  net- 
work, Mondays  at 
8:30  P.M. 

Vivian,  only  17,  al- 
ready a  most  accom- 
plished .  young  lady. 
She  was  born  and 
lives  in  the  Bronx, 
N.  Y.,  and  she  is  brainy  as  well  as  good  to  look 
at.  She  has  actually  turned  down  motion  pic- 
ture contracts  in  order  to  study  for  a  law  degree, 
at  Fordham  University,  and  someday  be  elected 
to  Congress! 

Last  June,  Vivian  graduated  from  St.  Barnabas 
High  where  she  was  the  president  of  the  Debat- 
ing Society  and  where  she  received  degrees  in 
merit,  honor  and  excellence.  And  to  top  this, 
she  recently  won  the  city-wide  oratorical  contest 
for  high  school  students  in  New  York,  then 
placed  second  in  the  finals — which  were  open  to 
every  eligible  high  school  student  in  the  United 
States.  Although  she  has  been  getting  marks  of 
90  or  better  all  her  school  days,  Vivian  is  not  a 
bookworm,  She  has  appeared  as  a  pianist  in 
school  concerts,  served  on  the  Year  Book  and 
the  school  paper.  She  enjoys  dancing,  swimming, 
and  horseback  riding.  Add  to  all  this  the  fact 
that  she  is  also  an  excellent  cook,  and  you  must 
agree  that  Vivian  should  certainly  be  an  inspira- 
tion to  young  televiewers. 


SION        SECTION 


who  is  Jennifer  Allen 
in  Barney  Blake,  Po- 
lice Reporter,  Thurs., 
9:30  P.M.  on  WNBT, 
like  her  co-star,  Gene 
°  Pon"fll.  was  born  in  Eagle  Grove,  Iowa 

Member  of  a  family  comprised  mostly  of 
lawyers  and  teachers,  Judy  showed  a  talent  for 
the  stage,  and  following  her  graduation  from 
Prairie  du  Chien,  Wis.,  she  entered  the  Amer- 
ican Academy  of  Dramatic  Arts  in  New  York 

bhe  made  her  theatrical  debut  in  "Stage  Door  " 
Later  while  appearing  in  "Kiss  and  Tell"  she 
eloped  with  another  member  of  the  cast.  John 
Harvey.  They  went  to  Hollywood,  where  Judy 
retired  to  become  a  mother  and  raise  daughter 
Jody.  In  her  spare  time  she  helped  run  an 
interior  decorating  firm.  But  the  fascination  of 
the  stage  was  too  strong  and  it  wasn't  long  be- 
lore  she  came  out  of  retirement  to  appear  in  the 
Chicago  production  of  "Dream  Girl"  and  even- 
tually, her  present  role  as  Jennifer  Allen 


has  been  hiding  his 
attractive  features  be- 
hind a  microphone  for 
some  fourteen  years, 
but  now  he  is  seen  as 
well  as  heard  as  star 
master  of  ceremonies 
for  New  York  Daily 
News'  television  sta- 
tion, WP1X. 

John  really  isn't  new 
to  television;  he's  one 
of  the  very  few  people 
to  have  been  televised  in  color.  He  has  been 
the  master  of  ceremonies  for  thirty  CBS  color 
demonstrations  which  were,  of  course,  never 
shown  to  the  public, '  since  color  will  not  be 
permitted  on  television  for  some  time. 

When  John  was  sixteen  years  old,  he  decided 
that  radio  was  for  him.  And  so,  enrolling  as  a 
student  at  Emory  University  at  Atlanta,  Georgia, 
he  registered  for  all  the  courses  related  to  the 
field  of  radio.  After  graduation,  he  got  himself 
a  job  as  announcer  on  WSB  in  that  city.  He  was 
on  their  staff  for  four  years.  Then  the  program 
director  of  WHAS,  Louisville,  Kentucky,  signed 
him  as  Director  of  Public  Affairs  (his  college 
major,  incidentally)   and  Special  Events. 

In  1939  he  sent  an  audition  record  to  CBS  in 
New  York  and,  shortly  after,  much  to  his  amaze- 
ment, was  asked  to  follow  the  recording  in  per- 
son. His  appearance  must  have  been  favorable: 
he  was  added  to  the  CBS  announcing  staff  nine 
years  ago.  You  probably  have  heard  him  on  tin- 
popular  band  show  Matinee  at  Meadowbrook, 
and  as  announcer  of  Time  to  Remember,  School 
of  the  Air,  and  the  Stradivari  Orchestra. 

Now  you  can  watch  boyish-looking  Tillman  as 
he  presents  Gloria  Swanson  on  her  regular  video 
show,  as  he  masters  the  ceremonies  for  The  Song 
Shop,  and  as  newscaster  on  WPIX. 

His  only  hobby  is  his  twenty-months-old  son, 
John  Stephen  Tillman  III.  John  met  his  talented 
and  charming  wife,  Patricia,  when  she  was 
writing  scripts  at  CBS. 


Glimpsed  at  left  and  below  are  Mary 
Kay  and  Johnny,  or  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Stearns,  enacting  scenes  of  cozy  do- 
mesticity on  their  WNBT  television 
program,  Sundays,  7  to  7:20  P.M.  EST. 


JOHN  A.  STEARNS,  of  Boston,  Massachusetts, 
and  Mary  Kay  Jones,  of  Los  Angeles,  California, 

both  grew  up  loving  acting  more  than  anything 
else  in  the  world — until  they  met  each  other.  Now 
acting  comes  second,  but  it's  a  very  active  and 
exciting  second! 

That  they  should  ever  meet,  marry,  and  become 
Mary  Kay  and  Johnny,  television's  first  husband 
and  wife  serial,  is  a  triumph  of  circumstances; 
because  when  Mary  Kay,  in  Los  Angeles,  decided 
she  was  ready  for  serious  acting,  she  rushed  to 
New  York.  When  Johnny,  in  the  East,  finished 
college,  he  rushed  for  Hollywood! 

To  start  at  the  beginning,  Johnny  comes  from  a 
family  that  has  always  been  interested  in  the 
theater.  They  at  one  time  owned  what  is  now  the 
Shubert  Theater  in  Boston.  In  fact  it  was  the  sale 
of  that  theater  to  the  Shuberts  that  gave  the  family 
a  life  pass  to  all  Shubert  theaters,  so  while  still 
in  grammar  school  young  Johnny  went  every 
Saturday  afternoon  to  see  a  play  or  musical  which 
he  thoroughly  enjoyed,    (Continued  on  page  84) 


50 


RADIO        MIRROR 


Ed  Sullivan,  who  makes  both  per- 
formers and  audience  "glad  they 
came,"  is  the  master  of  ceremonies. 


One  of  the  reasons  the  show  is  a  hit:  its 
musical  director  is  Ray  Bloch  (above, 
left,     studying     a     score     with     Sullivan) 


ONE  of  the  most  exciting  things  about  television 
is  that  it  can  bring  into  your  home  those  per- 
sonalities and  specialty  acts  which  most  of  us 
would  just  hear  and  read  about  but  never  get  to 
see.  Ed  Sullivan's  Toast  of  the  Town  is  an  out- 
standing example  of  this.  Each  Sunday,  at  9:30 
P.M.,  Ed  brings  the  fabulous  entertainers  to  the 
video  cameras  to  offer  a  show  that  probably  could 
never  be  assembled  on  any  stage. 

Ed  is  a  natural  to  be  M.C.-producer  for  this 
show  as  he  has  been  as  active  in  show  business  as 
in  the  newspaper  business.  Not  only  is  he  famous 
for  his  column,  "Little  Old  New  York,"  but  he 
is  equally  well-known  for  his  "Dawn  Patrol" 
revues. 

Attending  a  rehearsal  of  the  show  is  quite  an 
experience  .  .  .  They  rehearse  on  Fridays  from 
2:30  to  4:30  and  again  on  Sunday  from  2:30  right 
up  to  show  time.  Television  demands  perfection 
and  that  kind  of  rehearsal  time  bears  out  that  fact, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  televiewers  and  the 
sponsors  alike! 


TELEVISION 


SECTION 


51 


■»m 


A 


*V 


Glimpsed  at  left  and  Mow  are  Mary 
Kay  and  Johnny,  or  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Steams,  enacting  scenes  of  cozy  do- 
mesticity on  their  WNBT  television 
program,  Snndays,  7.0  7:20  P.M.  EST. 


Ed  Sulli 

fan,   who   makes   both   per* 

formers 

and    audience    "glad    they 

came,"  h 

the  master  of  ceremonies. 

> 


-t>C 


JOHN  A  STEARNS,  of  Boston,  Massachusetts, 
and  Mary  Kay  Jones,  of  Los  Angeles,  California, 
both  grew  up  loving  acting  more  than  anything 
else  in  the  world-until  they  met  each  other.  Now 
acting  comes  second,  but  it's  a  very  active  and 
exciting  second!  u„.™» 

That  they  should  ever  meet,  marry  and  become 
Mary  Kay  and  Johnny,  television's  first  husband 
and  wife  serial,  is  a  triumph  of  circumstances; 
because  when  Mary  Kay,  in  Los  Angeles,  decided 
she  was  ready  for  serious  acting,  she  rushed  to 
New  York.  When  Johnny,  in  the  East,  finished 
college,  he  rushed  for  Hollywood! 

To  start  at  the  beginning,  Johnny  comes  from  a 
family  that  has  always  been  interested  in  the 
theater  They  at  one  time  owned  what  is  now  the 
Shubert  Theater  in  Boston.  In  fact  it  was  the  sale 
of  that  theater  to  the  Shuberts  that  gave  the  family 
a  life  pass  to  all  Shubert  theaters,  so  while  still 
in  grammar  school  young  Johnny  went  every 
Saturday  afternoon  to  see  a  play  or  musical  which 
he  thoroughly  enjoyed,   (Continued  on  page  84) 


K"\ 


ONE  of  the  most  exciting  things  about  television 
is  that  it  can  bring  into  your  home  those  per- 
sonalities and  specialty  acts  which  most  of  us 
would  just  hear  and  read  about  but  never  get  to 
see.  Ed  Sullivan's  Toast  of  the  Town  is  an  out- 
standing example  of  this.  Each  Sunday,  at  9:30 
P.M.,  Ed  brings  the  fabulous  entertainers  to  the 
video  cameras  to  offer  a  show  that  probably  could 
never  be  assembled  on  any  stage. 

Ed  is  a  natural  to  be  M.C.-producer  for  this 
show  as  he  has  been  as  active  in  show  business  as 
in  the  newspaper  business.  Not  only  is  he  famous 
for  his  column,  "Little  Old  New  York,"  but  he 
is  equally  well-known  for  his  "Dawn  Patrol1' 
revues. 

Attending  a. rehearsal  of  the  show  is  quite  an 
experience  .  .  .  They  rehearse  on  Fridays  from 
2:30  to  4:30  and  again  on  Sunday  from  2:30  right 
Up  to  show  time.  Television  demands  perfection 
and  that  kind  of  rehearsal  time  bears  out  that  fact, 
to  the  satisfaction  of  the  televiewers  and  the 
sponsors  alike! 


One  of  the  reasonB  the  show  is  a  hit:  its 
musical  director  is  Roy  Bloch  (above, 
left,     studying     a     score     with     Sullivan) 


radio      MIRR°R  Television      section 


■f  Ml 


Unusual  girls,  the  Whitings — being  sisters  doesn't  prevent  them  from  pointing  with  pride  to  each  other 


? 


By  Barbara 


kJ)OWZ 


nm 


By  Margaret 


ANYONE  who  is  a  regular  listener  to  the  Junior 
Miss  program  every  Saturday  morning  at  11:30 
A.M.  EST  over  CBS,  has  the  right  to  wonder  if 
any  of  the  mad  situations  in  the  serial  have  been 
suggested  by  my  own  life  and  that  of  the  Whiting 
household. 

The  answer  is  no.  Life  in  our  family  is  too  fantastic 
to  serve  as  radio  material  because  no  audience  would 
ever  believe  the  things  that  actually  occur.  Thinking 
it  over,  I  am  not  certain  whether  my  sister  Margaret 
or  my  mother,  whom  we  usually  call  Eleanor,  is  the 
chief  instigator  of  our  family  excitement.  However, 
they  are  so  much  alike  that  to  talk  about  one  is  to 
talk  about  both,  so  I  might  as  well  discuss  Margaret. 

Some  of  my  girl  friends  are  not  sold  on  the  institu- 
tion of  the  Older  Sister,  but  I  personally  am  a  booster. 
Probably  that  is  because  I  happened  to  inherit  such 
a  nice  example.. 

At  the  present  time  the  thing  I  most  admire  about 
Margaret  is  her  poise.  Mother  says  poise  comes  from 
sincerity  just  as  currency  comes  from  a  bank,  but  all 
I  can  say  to  that  is  that  I'm  broke  in  both  respects,.  I 
certainly  would  like  to  have  Margaret's  savoir  faire 
(French  for  know-how)  in  awkward  situations, 
which  brings  me  back  to  our  crazy  household. 

Margaret,  wearing  yellow  silk  pajamas  and  white 
wool  mules,  was  combing  her  hair  one  recent  morning 
when  a  timid  knock  tickled  the  panel  of  her  bedroom 
door. 

"Come  in,"  said  Margaret,  amazed  at  this  formality. 

In  strolled  a  perfectly  strange  little  boy  of  five  or 
six.  Pixies,  yet!  Imagine — in  our  house  at  ten-thirty 
in  the  morning. 

"Hello,"  said  Margaret.    "How  are  you  today?" 

The  little  boy  said  he  was  fine,  that  it  was  a  nice 
morning,  and  that  he  had  found  the  front  door  open 
so  had  decided  to  get  acquainted.  "My  mother  says 
she  is  dying  to  know  what  Margaret  Whiting  looks 
like,"  he  confided.   "Do  you  know  if  she  lives  here?" 

Margaret  introduced  herself.  The  little  boy  studied 
her  for  several  moments,  shook  his  head  seriously, 
and  strolled  away. 

Here  is  the  tag:  Margaret  (Continued  on  page  89) 


WHEN  I  was  in  New  York  recently  I  received  a 
birthday  greeting  which  read,  "Happiest  Birthday 
and  hurry  home  to  the  monster." 

This  could  have  come  from  only  one  source:  my 
younger  sister,  Barbara.  I  almost  referred  to  her  as 
my  "teen-age"  sister,  Barbara,  but  recovered  myself 
in  time. 

Barbara  has  an  aversion  to  being  referred  to  as  a 
"teen-ager."  She  would  prefer  to  be  called  Monster, 
Square,  or  Repulsive.  Frankly,  I  think  she  has  a 
point.  The  sensible  way  in  which  she  explains  her 
attitude  is  not  only  a  revelation  of  her  own  personal- 
ity, but  illuminates  the  attitudes  of  a  great  many 
people  who  are  .  .  .  er  .  .  .  teen-agers. 

First  of  all,  Barbara  wants  to  know  how  people  out 
of  their  teens  would  like  to  be  called  "Twentiers"  or 
"Thirtiers"  or  "Fortiers."  The  suggestion  in  constant 
use  of  the  word  "teen-agers"  is  that  all  of  them  can 
be  categorized;  that  everyone  between  ten  and 
twenty  can  be  fitted  into  a  pattern.  This  is  obviously 
as  absurd  as  saying  that  everyone  between  the  ages 
of  thirty  and  forty  can  be  pigeon-holed. 

Barbara  and  her  friends  want  desperately  to  be  re- 
garded as  human  beings,  single  individuals,  and  not 
as  members  of  an  age  category. 

They  are  even  more  bitter  about  the  label  "bobby- 
soxers."  They  believe  that  the  term  is  slighting  and 
has  reference  to  a  certain  hysteria  which  most  fans 
have  been  careful  to  avoid.  They  point  out  that  every 
girl  or  woman  who  wears  slacks,  pedal-pushers,  clam- 
diggers,  or  even  chintz  morning  housecoats,  wears 
bobby  sox.  Bobby  sox  are  garments,  not  the  badge 
of  a  state  of  mind. 

Occasionally  when  Barbara  has  given  an  evening 
get-together  for  her  friends,  I  have  had  the  fun  of 
joining  in.  The  conversation  is  enlightening  and 
should  be  overheard  by  those  who  insist  that  today's 
youth  is  empty-headed,  selfish,  and  ill-prepared  for 
life.  Personally  I  don't  think  anyone  of  any  age  is 
well-prepared  for  what  the  next  ten  years  may 
bring,  so  I  think  it's  absurd  to  single  out  one  par- 
ticular age  group  and  accuse  it  of  superficiality. 

However,  Barbara's  friends  (Continued  on  page  88) 


Margaret  Whiting  sings  on  Club  15,  Mon.-Fri.,  7:30  P.M.  EST,  CBS.  Barbara  Whiting  is  Junior  Miss,  Saturdays,  11:30  A.M.  EST,  on  CBS. 


52 


Barbara  (left),  and  Margaret— different  personalities,  different  talents,  but  one  big  thing  in  common:  they  know  how  to  get  along  with  each  other. 
Barbara:  "Poise,  that's,  what  ray  sister  Margaret  has  so  much  of."  Margaret:  "Not  only  is  Barbara  a  comedienne,  but  can  she  sing!" 


4 


Jtm 


zJ/wouaA  trw  ueaitt  with 


DAVID  HABUM 


1.  Years  ago,  David  Harum  opened  his  home 
to  his  sister  Polly,  whose  marriage  to  James 
Benson  had  broken  up  when  she  learned  he 
was  a  swindler.  With  the  police  on  his  trail, 
Benson  deserted  Polly.  David  hastened  to  his 
sister  and  brought  her  back  to  Homeville — to 
a  happier,  less  lonely  life  for  both   of  them. 


IN  Radio  Mirror's  review  of  the 
story  of  David  Harum,  you 
see  the  program's  stars  playing 
their  parts  just  as  they  do  on 
the  air. 

David  Harum  is  played  by 

Cameron  Prud'homme 

Aunt  Polly  Benson Charme  Allen 

Brian  Wells Kenneth  William* 

Susan  Wells Gertrude  Warner 

Zeke  Swinney Arthur  Maitland 

Mark  Carter Paul  Ford 

David  Harum,  a  radio  dramati- 
zation of  the  novel  by  Edward 
Noyes  Westcott,  is  produced  by 
Frank  and  Anne  Hummert  and  is 
heard  Mon.-Fri.,  3  P.M.  EST,  CBS. 


Radio  Mirror  retells 

the  story  of  Homeville's  most 

beloved  citizen,  who  is  also 

one  of  radio's  most  beloved  characters 


2.  As  president  of  the  Homeville  Bank, 
David  holds  an  important  position  in  town 
affairs.  It  is  not  his  prestige,  however,  but 
his  generous,  humanity-loving  personality 
that  makes  his  fellow-townsmen  turn  to  him 
with  affection.  He  is  so  ready  to  hear  other 
folks'  troubles  that  his  secretary,  Miss 
Wayne,  must  often  intervene  to  prevent  his 
wasting  time  which  is  valuable  to  the  Bank. 


i-*"*- 


,rt- 


! 


With  Aunt  Polly  in  charge  of  domestic  arrangements,  David  Harnm  always  knows 
that  the  .big  white  house  on  Catalpa  Street  will  offer  him  peace  and  relaxation 
when  he  gets  home  in  the  evening.  So,  no  matter  how  hard  a  day  he  has  had  in  his 
presidential  duties  at  the  Homeville  Bank,  he  keeps  at  the  back  of  his  mind  the 
picture  of  how  comfortable  home  will  be  when  he  gets  there . . .  with  one  of  Aunt 
Polly's  perfect  dinners  followed  by  a  quiet  cup  of  coffee  before  the  friendly  fire. 


THROUGH  THE  YEAR 


4.  The  best  friends  David  and  Aunt  Polly  have  i\re  Brian 
and  Susan  Wells,  a  young  couple  with  "ink  in  their  veins." 
They  own,  edit  and  love  the  Homeville  Bugle,  which  fills  a 
place  in  their  lives  second  only  to  that  occupied  by  their 
beloved  five-year-old  Davey.  Davey  is  also  a  great  favorite 
with    his    doting,    gift-bringing    godfather,    David    Harum. 


5.  Mrs.  Waters,  superintendent  of  the  Homeville  or- 
phanage, is  another  of  David's  friends.  David  serves, 
without  pay,  as  Chairman  of  the  home's  board  of 
Directors,  and  Mrs.  Waters  knows  he  can  always  be 
counted  on  to  provide  advice,  financial  help,  or  a  day 
of  fun  for  the  children,  all  of  whom  he  deeply  loves. 


8.  Confident  that  he  had  duped  David,  Zeke  enlisted  his 
old'  erony-in-crime,  Mark  Carter,  in  his  plan  to  oust  David 
from  the  Bank  and  obtain  the  Presidency  for  himself. 
Mark,  a  lawyer  of  shady  reputation  and  weak  character,  was 
somewhat  afraid  of  David,  but  finally  let  himself  be  per- 
suaded to  help  Zeke.  Together,  they  concocted  their  plan. 

56 


9.  First,  they  started  a  whispering  campaign  to  dis- 
credit David's  methods  of  running  the  Bank  as  out- 
moded. Then,  Zeke  bribed  his  way  into  the  Bank 
one  night,  disconnected  the  burglar  alarm  and  set 
the  stage  for  a  holdup  which  he  had  persuaded  a 
young    criminal    to    stage.     But,    fortunately    .    .    . 


TH   DAVID  HARUM 


5*w.n 


6.  One  day,  trouble  appeared  at  the  Wells  borne  in 
the  form  of  Zeke  Swinney,  a  scoundrelly  old  enemy  of 
David's,  long  missing  from  Homeville.  Zeke  is  actually 
Brian's  father,  but  his  crooked,  shady  dealings  so  hu- 
miliated Brian  that  the  young  man  repudiated  his 
father  and  changed  his  name  and  his  family's  to  Wells. 


7.  Crafty  Zeke  visited  David,  pretending  to  be  friendly. 
David  tried  to  forget  that  this  man  had  caused  so  much 
misery  in  Homeville  years  before,  but  in  spite  of  himself 
he'  could  not  altogether  control  his  suspicions  of  Zeke. 
And  these  suspicions  were  more  than  justified,  for  Zeke 
was  planning  to  enrich  himself  at  David  Harum's  expense. 


10.  .  .  .  David  had  discovered  the  scheme  in  time  to 
prevent  any  actual  damage  being  done.  The  next  day, 
at  a  Board  of  Directors  meeting,  David  exposed 
Zeke  and  won  a  vote  of  confidence.  His  position  as 
president  again  secure,  David  and  Aunt  Polly  en- 
joyed the  congratulatory  messages  of  their  friends. 


11.  Aunt  Polly  never  cooked  a  better  dinner  than  the  one 
she  prepared  to  celebrate  David's  escape  from  Zeke.  Susan 
and  Brian  shared  it,  and  the  party  was  gay  in  spite  of 
Brian's  disgust  with  his  rascally  father.  The  trouble  ap- 
peared to  be  over;  none  of  them  suspected  that  the  future 
might  hold  even  greater  threats  to  David  Harum's  happiness. 

57 


THROUGH   THE  YEARJjTH  DAVID   HARUM 


4.  The  belt  friends  David  and  Aunl  Polly  have  are  Brian 
and  Su.an  Wells,  a  young  eouple  with  "ink  in  their  veins." 
They  own,  edit  and  love  the  Homeville  Bugle,  which  fills  a 
place  in  their  lives  second  only  to  that  occupied  by  their 
beloved  five-year-old  Davey.  Davey  is  also  a  great  favorite 
with   his   doting,   gift-bringing    godfather,    David    riorum. 


5.  Mrs.  "Waters,  superintendent  of  the  Homeville  or- 
phanage, iB  another  of  David's  friends.  David  serves, 
without  pay,  as  Chairman  of  the  home's  board  of 
Directors,  and  Mrs.  Waters  knows  he  con  always  be 
counted  on  to  provide  advice,  financial  help,  or  a  day 
of  fun  for  the  children,  all  of  whom  he  deeply  loves. 


6.  One  day,  trouble  appeared  at  the  Wells  home  in 
the  form  of  Zeke  Swinney,  a  scoundrelly  old  enemy  of 
David's,  long  missing  from  Homeville.  Zeke  is  actually 
Brian's  father,  but  his  crooked,  shady  dealings  so  hu- 
miliated Brian  that  the  young  man  repudiated  his 
father  and  changed  his  name  and  his  family's  to  Welle. 


7.  Crafty  Zeke  visited  David,  pretending  to  be  friendly. 
David  tried  to  forget  that  this  man  had  caused  so  much 
misery  in  Homeville  years  before,  but  in  spile  of  himself 
he  could  not  altogether  control  his  suspicions  of  Zeke. 
And  these  suspicions  were  more  than  justified,  for  Zeke 
was  planning  to  enrich  himself  at  David  Harum's  expense. 


8.  Confident  that  he  hod  duped  David,  Zeke  enlisted  his 
old-erony-in-crime,  Mark  Carter,  in  his  plan  to  oust  David 
from  the  Bonk  and  obtain  the  Presidency  for  himself. 
Mark,  a  lawyer  of  shady  reputation  and  weak  character,  wob 
loihewhul  afraid  of  David,  but  finally  let  himself  be  per- 
suaded to  help  Zekt.  Together,  they  concocted  their  plnn. 
56 


9.  First,  they  started  a  whispering  campaign  to  dis- 
credit David's  methods  of  running  the  Bank  as  out- 
moded. Then,  Zeke  bribed  his  way  into  the  Bank 
one  night,  disconnected  the  burglar  alarm  and  Bet 
the  stage  for  a  holdup  which  he  had  persuaded  a 
young    criminal    to    stage.     But,    fortunately    .    .    ■ 


10.  .  .  ,  David  had  discovered  the  scheme  in  time  to 
prevent  any  actual  damage  being  done.  The  next  day, 
at  a  Board  of  Directors  meeting,  David  exposed 
Zeke  and  won  a  vote  of  confidence.  His  position  as 
president  again  secure,  David  and  Aunt  Polly  en- 
joyed the  congratulatory  messages  of  their  friends. 


11.  Aunt  Polly  never  cooked  a  better  dinner  than  the  one 
she  prepared  to  celebrate  David's  escape  from  Zeke.  Susan 
and  Brian  shared  it,  and  the  party  was  gay  in  spite  of 
Brian's  disgust  with  bis  rascally  father.  The  trouble  ap- 
peared to  be  over;  none  of  them  suspected  that  the  future 
might  hold  even  greater  threats  to  David  Harum's  happiness. 

57 


and^ 


Never  was  a  girl  asked  to  take  on  a  stranger  family.  And  never  was 


a  family  more  fun  than  the  ready-made  one  that  came  with  Edgar  Bergen 


Only  Mortimer  Snerd 
is  missing  from  the 
family  portrait  at  the 
left,  with  Candy  on 
her  mother's  lap,  and 
Charlie  in  his  usual 
place     on     Bergen's. 


By  FRANCES  BERGEN 


IT  might  make  a  better  story  if  I  could  say  that  when  mutual  friends  introduced 
Edgar  and  me  in  1942  it  was  love  at  first  sight  for  both  of  us.  But  it  wasn't 
that  way  at  all.  I  thought  he  was  "nice."  He  thought  I  was  "a  good  kid."  We 
made  a  date  for  the  next  day,  and  it  turned  out  to  be  somewhat  of  a  "blind  date" 
for  me — because.  I  discovered  we  were  going  flying  in  his  Fairchild.  I  rose  to  the 
occasion — but  literally! — by  pretending  I  had  been  up  before  and  that  I  loved  it. 
But  as  soon  as  we  landed  I  lost  my  lunch.  Since  then  I  have  learned  to  fly  a 
plane  myself  and  really  love  flying. 

We  knew  each  other  three  years  before  we  were  married,  but  were  engaged 
only  a  couple  of  months.  Then,  one  day,  we  avoided  publicity  by  going  down  to 
Mexico  and  getting  married  secretly,  with  only  two  Mexicans  as  witnesses.  We 
had  a  honeymoon  at  Lake  Arrowhead.  I'm  just  as  sentimental  about  my  wedding 
as  if  it  had  been  more  formal.  I've  kept  the  dress  I  was  married  in  and  have 
pressed  the  flowers  from  my  bouquet. 

When  the  news  got  out,  interviewers  asked  if  EB  had  given  me  a  wedding 
present  and  if  I  had  given  him  one. 

"Yes,"  I  told  them.  "Undying  devotion." 

People  were  curious  to  know  if  Charlie  approved  our  marriage.  I  think  they 
really  believed  he  might  be  upset.  Some  insisted  Charlie  did  the  talking  for 
Edgar  when  he  proposed.  Others  worried  about  how  I'd  feel  toward  Charlie. 

They  needn't  have.  I  couldn't  be  more  pleased  at  playing  "stepmama"  to  the 
little  rascal.  And  that  includes  Charlie's  country  cousin,  Mortimer  Snerd — 
although  Charlie  holds  a  slight  edge  over  Mort  in  my  affections.  I  guess  it's 
because  I've  been  around  him  more.  We  even  do  a  skit  together,  "The  Operation," 
in  which  Charles  plays  the  patient,  I'm  the  nurse,  and  EB  is  the  doctor. 
But  Mort  is  so  pathetic — you  can't  help  but  love  him. 

Our  two-year- old  Candice,  adores  them  both,  impartially.  Candy  runs  to 
Charlie,  grabs  his  hands  and  says,  "How  do,  Larlie."  Then  she  hugs  Mortimer 
"Nerds."  We  are  not  quite  sure  whether  she  thinks  they're  humans  or  dolls,  but 
we  are  sure  we'll  have  some  explaining  to  do  when  she  gets  older. 

If  Candy  believes  the  boys  are  real  she  isn't  very  different  from  older  and  so- 
called  wiser  folks  who  are  around  them  a  great  deal.  I  have  heard  people  call  out 
greetings  to  Charlie  as  he  sat,  limp  and  mute,  waiting  for  Edgar  to  administer 
the  adrenalin.  Masters  of  ceremonies  have  introduced  the  act  as  "Char he  Mc- 
Carthy, assisted  by  Edgar  Bergen."  A  little  girl  once  asked  Edgar,  "Is  Charlie 
really  your  boy?"  He  answered,  seriously,  "He's  my  boy,  by  adoption,"  and  she 
believed  it.  So  does  he,  I'm  sure. 

In  August  we  came  back  from  a  ten-week  European  trip,  most  of  which  was 
spent  in  Sweden,  where  Edgar's  parents  were  born.  Edgar,  of  course,  is  an 
American,  born  on  February  16  of  a  Chicago  winter.  He  hadn't  been  in  Sweden 
since  1937,  though  he  lived  there  a  year  as  a  boy.  What  started  out  as  a  combina- 
tion Bergen  Pleasure  Trip  and  McCarthy  Good-Will  Junket,  with  time  out  for  the 
movies  Edgar  makes  on  every  trip,  ended  up  as  a  Triumphal  Technicolor  Tour. 
EB  had  decided,  before  we  left,  that  he  would  do  a   (Continued  on  page  95) 


: 


Edgar  Bergen  brings  Charlie  McCarthy  and  Mortimer  Snerd  to  the  air  Sundays  at  8  P.M.  EST,  on  NBC. 


59 


Never  wa«  a  girl  asked  to  take  on  a  stranger  family.  And  never  was 

a  family  more  fun  than  the  ready-made  one  that  came  with  Edgar  Bergen 


Only  Mortimer  Snerd 
is  missing  from  the 
family  portrait  at  the 
left,  with  Candy  on 
her  mother's  lap,  and 
Charlie  in  his  usual 
place     on     Bergen's. 


By  FRANCES  BERGEN 


I   lSS  a^me  in  194^  "     C°U,d  T  tha'  whe"  mulual  f"cnds  »»trodu«d 

made  a  date  for  L  ™  ,  A        "  ?"  We      He  thought  '  was  "a  8°°d  kid  "  w<" 

fTmi-b~^H  J         2i'  Dnd  "  ,U™d  °Ul  '°  be  «»»ewl«at  of  a  'blind  date" 

occaT^n-butTti,    ,   °Vt,ed  WC  T*  g°ing  flyin«  ta  his  F«irchild    '  «™  to  the 

But  aS^on  LUt"aVy!7byIPretending  '  had  been  "P  betore  and  *»'  I  '°ved  It 

nl»n.  V    j         uded  !  l0St  my  lunch     Since  the"  '  h»ve  loaned  <«  "V  » 

plane  myself  and  really  love  flying.  u>  ny  a 

We  knew  each  other  three  years  before  we  were  married,  but  were  engaged 

MexicoTnd /,t m0nlhS'  T?en'  °ne  day'  WC  avoided  Public',y  by  «•>"«  S^nto 
Mexico  and  gettmg  married  secretly,  with  only  two  Mexicans  as  wteuami  W. 
had  a  honeymoon  at  Lake  Arrowhead.  I'm  just  as  sentimental  about  my  weddinj 

l^S    «  T*  f0m,al-    rve  kept  the  dress  '  was  ™*«<*  in  and  have 

pressed  the  flowers  from  my  bouquet 

When  the  news  got  out,  interviewers  asked  if  EB  had  given  me  ■  wedding 
present  and  if  I  had  given  him  one. 

"Yes,"  I  told  them.  "Undying  devotion." 

People  were  curious  to  know  if  Charlie  approved  our  marriage  I  think  thev 
really  believed  he  might  be  upset.  Some  insisted  Charlie  did  the  talking  f,„ 
fcdgar  when  he  proposed.  Others  worried  about  how  I'd  feel  toward  Chai 

They  needn't  have.    I  couldn't  be  more  pleased  at  playing  "stepmama"  to  lot 
little  rascal.    And  that  includes  Charlie's  country   cousin,   Mortimer  Sni  i 
although  Charlie  holds  a  slight  edge  over  Mort  in  my  affections.    I  gu<- 
because  I've  been  around  him  more.  We  even  do  a  skit  together.  'The  Operatimi 
in  which  Charles  plays  the  patient,  I'm  the  nurse,  and  EB  is  the  doctor. 

But  Mort  is  so  pathetic— you  can't  help  but  love  him 

Our  two-year-old   Candice.  adores  them    both,    impartially.    Candy    runs    to 
Charlie,  grabs  his  hands  and  says,  "How  do,  Larlie."  Then  she  hugs  M.m  U 
"Nerds."   We  are  not  quite  sure  whether  she  thinks  they're  humans  or  dolls,  but 
we  are  sure  well  have  some  explaining  to  do  when  she  gets  older 

If  Candy  believes  the  boys  are  real  she  isn't  very  different  from  older  and  so- 
called  wiser  folks  who  are  around  them  a  great  deal.  I  have  heard  people  call 
greetings  to  Charlie  as  he  sat,  limp  and  mute,  waiting  for  Edgar  to  admin 
the  adrenalin.    Masters  of  ceremonies  have  introduced  the  act  as  "Charlie  Mc- 
Carthy, assisted  by  Edgar  Bergen ."    A  little  girl  once  asked  Edgar,  "Is  Charlia 
really  your  boy?"  He  answered,  seriously,  "He's  my  boy.  by  adoption,"  .ml 
believed  it.   So  does  he,  I'm  sure. 

In  August  we  came  back  from  a  ten-week  European  trip,  most  of  which  was 
spent  in  Sweden,  where  Edgar's  parents  were  bom.    Edgar,  of  course,   is  an 
American,  born  on  February  16  of  a  Chicago  winter.   He  hadn't  been  in  Sw 
since  1937,  though  he  lived  there  a  year  as  a  boy.   What  started  out  as  a  combina 
tion  Bergen  Pleasure  Trip  and  McCarthy  Good-Will  Junket,  with  time  out  for  the 
movies  Edgar  makes  on  every  trip,  ended  up  as  a  Triumphal  Technicolor  Tnur. 

EB  had  decided,  before  we  left,  that  he  would  do  a   (Continued  on  page  95) 


Ed«.rB^«~ibrin«.a.«rll.Mc<Urthr-ndMortlm~Sn»>di.lh>«l.  Su.<U,.  U  •  T.M.  m.»lliC. 


LIKE  A  bowl  of  rubies,  a  shimmering  bowl 
of  cranberry  sauce  brightens  the  table  on 
Thanksgiving  Day.  It's  easy  to  make  this 
scarlet  sauce  stand  high,  wide  and  handsome 
on  a  dish.  After  it's  cooked,  pour  it  into  a 
small  bowl  or  mold  and  put  it  in  the  refrig- 
erator to  chill  thoroughly.  Just  before  serv- 
ing, dunk  the  bowl  nearly  to  its  edge  in  hot 
water  for  about  10  seconds — then  upside 
down  on  a  platter. 

When  I  was  a  little  girl  I  watched  my 
mother  prepare  for  dinner  on  this  important 
day.  She  used  to  let  me  help  her  "pull"  the 
bread  for  the  stuffing.  She  didn't  have  a 
cake  rack  in  those  days  to  rub  the  bread  over 
and  get  crumbs  in  a  jiffy,  like  we  do  today, 
but  she  had  a  way  of  baking  squash  which 
Tve  never  forgotten.  She  took  halves  of 
acorn  squash  or  squares  of  hubbard  squash 
and  baked  them  with  the  seeds  left  in.  When 
nearly  done  she'd  take  a  spoon  and  scoop  the 
seeds  out.  It  left  the  squash  juicy  and  tender 
on  top.  Sometimes  she  would  sweeten  it 
with  a  golden  syrup  of  brown  sugar  and  but- 
ter. Here  are  some  of  her  favorite  recipes. 
You'll  enjoy  them  any  day  of  the  year: 

10-MINUTE  CRANBERRY  SAUCE 
2  cups  sugar  2  cups  water 

4  cups  fresh  cranberries 
Combine  sugar  and  water  in  a  saucepan. 
Stir  until  sugar  is  dissolved.  Boil  for.  5  min- 
jUtes.  Add  cranberries  and  boil  without  stir- 
ring until  skins  pop  open  (about  5  minutes). 
Makes  1  quart  sauce. 

RELISH  PLATE 
Celery  Curls:     Cut  washed  and  drained 


By 

KATE  SMITH 

Listen  to  Kate  Smith 
Speaks  on  stations  of 
the  Mutual  network, 
Mon.-Kri.  at  12  Noon- 

Radio  Mirror  Food  Counselor 


celery  into  3  inch  lengths.  Thinly  slice  down 
celery  to,  but  not  through,  the  other  end. 
Place  in  ice  water.    Ends  will  curl. 

Radish  Roses:  Wash  radishes  well.  Cut 
thin  slices  all  the  way  'round  radish,  starting 
at  stem  end.  Petals  will  form  if  peeling  is 
cut  to  1/a  inch  of  stem.  Place  in  ice  water 
for  petals  to  spread. 

Carrot  Curls:  Cut  large  carrots  in  half 
lengthwise.  Slice  cut  side  into  paper  thin 
slices  with  potato  peeler.  Roll  up  and  place 
in  ice  water  to  curl. 

ROAST  TURKEY 

Rinse  cleaned  dressed  turkey  well  in  cold 
water  inside  and  out.  Rub  inside  with  salt. 
Lightly  fill  with  stuffing.  Truss  and  rub  en- 
tire surface  of  turkey  with  oil.  Place  on 
rack.  Cover  breast  and  drumstick  with 
cheesecloth  which  has  been  dipped  in  melted 
butter,  margarine  or  shortening.  Roast  in 
slow  oven  (300  to  325"  F.).  For  a  10  to  16 
pound  bird   allow    (Continued  on  page  78) 


jwze 


RADIO  MIRROR  for  BETTER  LIVING 


Jooum  mew  w,  m  new  nu^wrndk 


62 


Another  Woman  is  based  on  an  incident  from 
the  radio  drama  Portia  Faces  Life,  and  is 
told  for  the  first  time  in  story  form  in  Radio 
Mirror's  complete-in-this-isaue  novelette. 
Portia  Faces  Life  is  heard  Monday  through 
Friday    at    5:15    P.M.    EST,  on    NBC   stations 


iwz,  cmowu 


tew  ewman; 


? 


and  Aw  /hem^t — wewe  ca^atd  fo  a&w 


THE  ENTIRE  household— young 
Dickie,  and  Miss  Daisy,  and  Kathie 
Campbell  and  Bill  Baker,  and  Lilli 
and  Mark  Randall — rode  to  the  sta- 
tion in  Bill's  car  to  see  Portia  off  to 
New  York.  Only  Dickie's  dog,  Jug, 
was  missing,  and  that,  as  Miss  Daisy 
observed  tartly,  was  less  for  lack  of 
room  in  the  car  than  for  the  smell  of 
him,  Jug  having  gone  bathless  too 
long  in  these  last  crowded  and  cli- 
mactic days. 

They  stood  on  the  platform,  wav- 
ing and  smiling  as  Portia  entered  the 
train.  Only  this  morning  it  had 
seemed  impossible  that  they  would 
all  be  together  again.  Mark  had 
faced  conviction  for  the  murder  of 
Bert  Mason;  Kathie  had  been  held 
captive  by  the  real  murderer's  hired 
thugs.  Now  they  were  free,  and  she 
was  free — to  go  to  her  husband,'  to 
Walter. 

The  wheels  turned  under  her.  The 
faces  full  of  love  and  smiles  that 
barely  concealed  deep  fears  for  her, 
slid  past  the  window,  out  of  sight. 
Portia  sighed  and  sank  back  upon 
the  seat  of  her  compartment.  She 
was  trembling.  These  last  weeks  had 
been  a  strain — they'd  been  agony, 
with  half  of  her,  the  thinking  and 
doing  half,  in  Parkerstown,  fighting 
to  free  Mark  Randall,  with  the  other 
half,  the  loving  and  living  half,  in 
New  York  with  Walter,  fighting — 
what?  She  blinked,  and  stared 
fixedly  out  the  window. 

It  was  just  a  year  and  a  week  since 
she  had  sat  at  a  train  window,  but 
then  Walter  and  Dickie  had  been 
with  her,  and  they  had  been  on  their 
way  home  from  Hollywood.  She'd 
watched  hungrily  for  the  old  famil- 
iar landmarks — the  Windgate  farm, 
Lebanon  Falls,  the  bend  in  the  river 
and  the  grove  of  Oak  trees  where  she 
had  told  Walter  she  would  marry 
him.  Walter  had  cupped  her  face  in 
his  two  hands  and  had  laughed  at 
her  rapt  expression. 

"Just  look  at  her!"  he'd  crowed. 
"Her  eyes  are  shining  like  a  kid's  on 
Christmas  morning.  She's  got  what 
Dickie  calls  the  sparkly  look." 

"I  feel  sparkly,"  she'd  answered. 
"Oh,  Walter,  darling — I've  waited  a 
whole  lifetime  for  this.  I  was  so 
little  when  Mother  died  I  don't  even 
remember  her.  And  with  Dad  busy 
in  the  store  most  of  the  time,  it 
wasn't  home — ever.  And  when  I 
married  Richard  Blake — well,  we 
both  know  what  that  was  like.  Then 
he  died,  and  there  was  Dickie,  and  I 
had  to  be  both  father  and  mother. 
There  just  wasn't  time  to  make  a 
real  home — and  besides,  a  real  home 
needs  both  a  man  and  a  woman.  It 
needs  laughter  and  love  and  tender- 
ness— and  all  the  things  we  have, 
Walter.  And  now  we  have  it!  Oh, 
my  darling,  we're  so  lucky — " 

"I  am,  anyway." 

"I  am,"  she'd  insisted.  "Just  look 
at  my  husband." 

He'd  sighed  a  little.  "What  I'd  give 
if  he  were  just  half  as  much  as  you 
think  he  is!" 

"He's   a   whole   lot  more  than  he 


gives  himself  credit  for  being,"  she'd 
retorted.  "One  of  these  days  he's  go- 
ing to  wake  up  and  realize  what  a 
grand  guy  he  is." 

"Crazy!" 

She'd  nodded.  "Crazy  in  love  with 
you,  you  mean.  Darling,  I'm  going 
to  make  you  so  happy  in  Parkers- 
town!  I'm  going  to  try  to  make  the 
kind  of  home  that's  gay  and  secure 
and  warm.  I'm  going  to  spoil  you — 
see  that  you  always  have  clean  shirts 
and  that  your  socks  are  mended 
and—" 

"How  about  my  wooden  hangers?" 

"Under  oath,"  she'd  promised, 
"there'll  always  be  plenty  of  them  in 
your  closet.  Oh,  my  dearest,  we 
haven't  done  much  living  up  until 
now.  But  today  is  the  beginning. 
And  it's  something  we  can  count  on 
not  only  next  year  but  for  all  the 
years  after." 

But  somehow,  it  hadn't  worked  out 
that  way.  In  a  year — less  than  a 
year — Walter  was  gone,  bitter  and 
angry  and  unable  to  understand  why 
she  had  to  stay  behind  to  help  Mark 
Randall.  Of  course,  there  was  more 
to  it  than  the  simple  fact  that  she  had 
felt  compelled  to  return  to  the  prac- 
tise of  law  for  this  one  last  case.  It! 
wasn't  surprising  that  Walter  Man- 
ning, successful  screen  writer  and 
one-time  ace  newspaper  correspond- 
ent, should  have  been  restless  and 
impatient  with  the  quiet,  slow-mov- 
ing life  of  Parkerstown. 

Other  things  were  less  explicable 
to  everyone  but  Portia:  Walter's  be- 
ing unable  to  leave  a  dinner  to  come 
to  the  telephone  when  Bill  Baker 
had  called  him  long  distance  the 
night  Portia  had  been  run  down  by 
the  very  thugs  who  later  kidnapped 
Kathie;  a  picture  run  by  the  Parkers- 
town Chronicle,  rival  paper  to  Bill 
Baker's  Herald,  which  showed  Wal- 
ter and  the  beautiful  Leslie  Palmer, 
head  of  Advance  Pictures'  story  de- 
partment, "dancing  and  romancing" 
as  the  caption  below  put  it. 

Portia  remembered  Leslie  Palmer 
and  her  infatuation  with  Walter. 
That  Leslie  had  answered  the  phone 
the  night  Bill  had  called  was  enough 
to  convince  Portia  that  Walter  was 
never  told  of  the  call;  she  was 
equally  sure  that  Leslie  had  caused 
the  damning  picture  to  be  run  in  the 
Parkerstown  paper. 

But  Bill  was  bitter,  perhaps  all  the 
more  bitter  and  disillusioned  because 
Walter  had  been  his  great  friend  and 
had  even  loaned  Bill  not  many 
months  before,  some  fifteen  thousand 
dollars  to  save  the  Herald  from  be- 
ing absorbed  by  Jess  Ward,  owner 
of  the  Chronicle.  With  the  rest  of 
Parkerstown,  he  believed  that  Wal- 
ter had  left  Portia.  He,  and  almost 
everyone  else,  had  tried  to  persuade 
her  not  to  go  to  New  York.  Only 
Lilli  and  Kathie  had  encouraged  her. 

But  now  at  last  she  was  on  her 
way.  She  would  be  in  New  York  in 
the  morning.  She  would  be  there  in 
time  for  the  opening  of  his  picture, 
"Challenge."  That  had  been  the  sore 
point  of  their  quarrel — that  Portia, 


Portia     Manning     .   .   . 
played  by  Lucille  Wall 


Leslie  Palmer    .    . 
played  by  Louise  Barclay 


Walter  Manning  .  .  .  played 
by  Bartlett  Robinson 


63 


ANOTHER 


WOMAN 


after  promising  to  give  up  law,  had  risked  missing  the 
opening  of  his  picture  in  order  to  stay  in  Parkerstown 
to  defend  Mark  Randall. 

She  forgot  her  weariness  in  the  thought  of  what  lay 
ahead.  She  ran  a  comb  through  her  hair,  adjusted  her 
hat,  made  her  way  to  the  dining  car. 

"Three  waiting  ahead  of  you,  Miss,"  the  steward  told 
her.  "If  you  care  to  wait  in  the  club  car,  I'll  call  you." 
She  went  on  into  the  club  car,  where  a  porter  gave  her 
a  copy  of  the  evening  paper.  She  glanced  idly  at  the 
headlines,  then  let  it  fall  in  her  lap  as  she  sat  dreamily 
watching  the  landscape  slide  by.  Presently  a  pleasant 
masculine  voice  spoke  at  her  elbow. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  but  if  you've  finished  with  the 
paper,  may  I — " 

"Of  course  "  She  handed  him  the  paper  and  smiled — a 
mistake,  because  he  chose  to  ignore  the  paper  for  conver- 
sation. Portia  would  have  much  preferred  to  be  left  alone 
with  her  thoughts  of  Walter;  she  was  trying  to  think  of 
an  out  when  her  companion  suddenly  shook  out  the  paper 
and  pointed  to  a  headline.  "This  is  what  I  mean,"  he  said. 
"For  example — "  And  then  his  eye  fell  upon  an  item 
farther  down  the  page.  "What's  this  about  Walter  Man- 
ning?" 

Portia  sat  bolt  upright.    "What?" 

"Walter  Manning,"  he  read,  "former  ace  correspondent, 
leaves  for  the  Near  East  on  a  special  assignment  for 
Advance  Studios — " 

Leaves,  thought  Portia.  Not  is  leaving — 
does  that  mean  he's  going  today?  Without  one 
word  to  me — Frantically,  she  tried  to  read  the 
article  over  her  companion's  arm,  but  there 
was  little  more  in  it,  only  that  Walter  was 
going  to  Ankara,  Turkey,  by  plane. 

"He's  certainly  a  crack  correspondent,"  the 
man  said  admiringly.  "I  read  every  word  he 
wrote  during  the  war,  and  when  he  joined  up 
with  the  guerillas — Why,  what's  the  matter? 
Are  you  sick?" 

Portia  was  standing,  swaying,  trying  to 
make  her  way  past  him.  "I'm  all  right,"  she 
said  as  he  rose,  "just — something  I  forgot  I 
had  to  do — "  Somehow,  she  got  away.  She 
blundered  into  the  dining  car  steward  and 
murmured  something  about  not  wanting  din- 
ner after  all;  blindly  she  found  her  way  back 
to  her  compartment. 

Leslie  Palmer  had  done  this — that  was  what  she  had  to 
believe.  Leslie  had  given  this  story  to  the  papers  for  the 
same  reason  that  she  had  released  that  picture  of  herself 
and  Walter.  It  wasn't  true.  Walter  wouldn't  go — surely 
not  without  telling  her.  .  .  . 

And  yet  .  .  .  she  kept  remembering  Walter's  set,  almost 
desperate  face  the  last  day  she  had  seen  him.  He'd  stood 
in  the  dining  room  doorway,  saying,  "You  promised  me 
that  under  no  condition  would  you  ever  go  back  to  the 
practise  of  law.  There  are  other  lawyers,  and  if  Mark 
Randall  is  innocent,  he  won't  be  convicted.  You're  my 
wife,  and  I  want  you  with  me  in  New  York.  And  if  you 
leave  this  house  this  morning  to  go  to  Mark  Randall,  to 
tell  him  you'll  stay  in  Parkerstown  to  defend  him — well, 
you  may  be  doing  something  we'll  regret  all  the  rest  of 
our  lives." 

All  the  rest  of  our  lives.  She  had  thought  at  the  time 
that  he  was  only  bitterly  hurt  that  she  would  risk  missing 
the  opening  of  his  picture,  "Chal- 
lenge." But  had  he  had  the  pos- 
sibility of  something  like  this — this 
assignment  to  Turkey — in  mind 
even  then?  And  why  had  he  been 
unable  to  explain  why  it  was  so 
desperately  necessary  that  she  be 
with  him?  On  the  surface,  it  had 
seemed  that  he  was  simply  being 
selfish — and  Walter  had  never  been 
selfish.  That  he  hadn't  called  or 
written  her  since  he  left  was  a  mat- 
ter of  pride — she  had  thought.  But 
was  it  something  more?  Had  he 
known  when  he  spoke  those  words 
that  if  he  went  to  New  York  alone, 
he  wouldn't  be  coming  back? 


Kathie    .    .    .    played 
by   Rosaline    Greene 


Lilli     .     . 
by    Cora 


Dickie    .    .    .   played 
by    Ed  w  in    Bruce 


She  rang  for  the  porter,  wrote  a 
telegram.  "Mr.  Walter  Manning — " 
She  didn't  even  know  his  address. 
But  Advance  Pictures  Studios 
would  do.  "Arriving  two-thirty 
p.m.  tomorrow  Grand  Central  Sta- 
tion. Please  meet — "  She  crossed 
out  the  last  two  words.  Walter 
would  meet  her  if  he  knew  she  was 
coming.  She  added,  "I  love  you. 
Portia." 

She  gave  the  porter  the  telegram, 
and  was  promised  that  it  would  be 

sent  from  the  next  stop.  And  then  she  went  to  bed  and 
slept  the  sleep  of  exhaustion  and  of  simple  faith.  She'd 
had  little  besides  faith  to  carry  her  through  the  tight  places 
of  Mark  Randall's  trial;  she  needed  the  same  faith  now  to 
believe  that  the  story  of  Walter's  going  to  the  Near  East 
was  a  lie,  to  believe  that  he  would  be  at  the  station  when 
her  train  pulled  in  the  next  day. 

But  he  wasn't  at  the  station.  Her  eyes  searched  the 
crowd  as  she  came  up  the  ramp,  and  some  of  the  crowd 
stared  back  at  the  lovely,  dark-eyed  woman  who  was  so 
unaccountably  alone  .  .  .  but  there  was  no  Walter.  She 
found  a  telephone,  quickly,  before  fear  and  disappointment 
and  the  feeling  of  being  deserted  and  alone  turned  the 
lump  in  her  throat  into  tears. 

Advance  Pictures  answered  her  dial  prompt- 
ly. "Mr.  Manning?"  the  operator  repeated. 
"Well,  ah—" 

"It's    very    important,"    Portia    interrupted. 
"And  if  you'd  be  good  enough  to  give  me  the 
name  of  his  hotel,  I'd  appreciate  it." 
"Who  is  calling,  please?" 
"This    is   his   wife,"    she   answered.      "Mrs. 
Manning." 

The  operator's  voice  chilled  suddenly.  "I'm 
sorry,"  she  said,  "but  Mr.  Manning  has  left  the 
city." 

"Left,"  Portia  repeated  in  a  voice  tight  with 
panic.    "For  Ankara?    When  did  he  go?" 

"I'm  sorry,  but  we're  not  permitted  to  give 
out  that  information." 

There  was  a  click,  and  the  phone  went  dead 
in  her  hand.  Portia  stared  at  it  numbly;  then 
anger  and  suspicion  drove  out  fear  and  hurt. 
The  operator's  sudden  freezing  at  being  told 
that  Walter's  wife  was  calling — it  was  a  small  thing,  but 
as  strange  in  its  way  as  the  idea  of  Walter's  leaving  for 
Turkey  without  a  word  to  her.  She  dialed  Advance  Pic- 
tures a  second  time. 

"This  is  the  Fifth  Avenue  Shop,"  she  said  in  a  high, 
nasal  voice.    "May  we  speak  with  Miss  Leslie  Palmer?" 

"I'm  sorry,"  said  the  same  operator,  "but  Miss  Palmer 
isn't  in." 

"Then,"  continued  Portia,  "perhaps  you  can  help  us. 
She  made  some  purchases  here  this  morning  but  neglected 
to  give  us  the  name  of  her  hotel.  Where  shall  we  send  the 
package?" 

"Miss  Palmer,"  said  the  operator  obligingly,  "is  staying 
at  the  New  Vanderbilt." 

Portia  thanked  her  in  the  name  of  the  Fifth  Avenue 
Shop  and  hung  up.  Ten  minutes  later  she  was  entering 
the  lobby  of  the  New  Vanderbilt. 

"Mr.  Manning?"  the  clerk  said  in  answer  to  her  question. 
"He  was  registered  here,  Miss,  but  he's  checked  out." 

"Checked  out?"  said  Portia,  trying  hard  to  steady  her 
voice.    "Are  you  sure?" 

The  clerk  looked  offended.    "It's  hardly  something  about 
which  I  could  be  mistaken,"*he  reminded  her  loftily. 
She  shook  her  head.    "But — I  mean — when?" 
"He  checked  out  at  noon  today,"  the  clerk  answered, 
"and  left  instructions  for  his  bags  to  be  sent  to  the  airport." 
Black  waves  of  faintness  washed  over  her.     She  stared 
at  the  clerk  through  a  darkening  haze,  struggling  to  think. 
Here,  too,  was  something  odd — another  piece  that  didn't 
fit.      She  was  aware  that  the  clerk  was  looking  at  her 
anxiously. 

"What's  wrong?"  he  asked.  "Are  you  ill?  I  can  call  the 
house  physician — " 

"No."  It  was  coming  to  her  now.  If  Walter  hadn't 
checked  out  until  noon,  he'd  surely  received  her  wire. 


.     played 
B.    Smith 


64 


ANOTHER 


WOMAN 


Bill  Baker  . . .  played 
by  Les  Damon 


"I  wired  Mr.  Manning  last  night," 
she  said.  "He  must  have  got  it — " 
"Oh,  yes."  The  clerk  nodded. 
"I  remember  very  well — a  wire  did 
come  for  Mr.  Manning  last  night, 
addressed  in  care  of  Advance  Pic- 
tures and  forwarded  here.  I  gave 
it  to  Miss  Palmer  myself." 

"Miss  Palmer!"  exclaimed  Portia. 
"But  it  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Man- 
ning!" 

"But   Mr.   Manning   was   outside 
taking   care   of   the   taxi,"   he   ex- 
plained. "And  Miss  Palmer  said  that  she  would  give  Mr. 
Manning  the  wire." 

"I  see,"  said  Portia,  and  wondered  how  she  could  for  a 
moment  have  failed  to  see  the  whole  unpleasant  little 
plot.  "Is  Miss  Palmer  in  her  room?  Never  mind,"  she 
added  hastily  as  the  clerk  reached  for  the  telephone.  "I'll 
call  her  myself,  if  you'll  just  tell  me  the  number — ■" 

Suite    14E.     The   maid   answered,   and   the   maid   was 
evasive.    Miss  Palmer  wasn't  in;  the  maid  didn't  know 
when  she  would  be  back,  didn't  think  that  Miss  Palmer 
could  be  reached  at  the  studio.  The  maid  had  been  coached, 
Portia  decided,  and  refrained  from  leaving  her  own  name. 
She  took  a  cab  to  Advance  Pictures,  and  found  that  she 
had  missed  Leslie  by  a  matter  of  minutes.  But  she  had 
one  bit  of  luck.  The  receptionist  believed  that 
Miss   Palmer   was   on  her  way  to   her   hotel. 
Portia  went  back  to  the  New  Vanderbilt  and 
called  14E  a  second  time. 

The  maid  answered  the  phone  again.  In 
tones  as  carefully  accurate  as  a  phonograph 
record  she  said,  "I'm  afraid  Miss  Palmer  isn't 
in,  but  if  you'd  like  to  leave  your  name,  I'll 
tell  her  you  called  when  she  comes  back. 
Aren't  you  the  party  that  called  before?" 

Portia  ignored  the  question.  "Is  Miss  Palmer 
expected  back  soon?" 

"I'm  sure  I  don't  know,"  said  the  same  care- 
ful tones.  "She  didn't  say  where  she  was  going 
or  what  time  she'd  be  back.  But  if  you'll  tell 
me  who's  calling — " 

"Thank  you,"  said  Portia,  and  hung  up. 
The  maid  was  lying;  Portia  was  sure  of  it 
now.  She'd  been  too  long  a  lawyer  not  to  have 
a  sharp  ear  for  truth.  Leslie  must  have  read 
her  telegram;  she  must  know  that  Portia  had  reached  New 
York  this  afternoon — and  for  some  reason  Leslie  was 
afraid  to  see  her.  And  there  could  be  only  one  good  reason 
why  the  clever,  self-assured  Leslie  would  go  to  such 
lengths  to  avoid  her — and  the  reason  was  that  Walter  must 
be  still  in  town,  and  Leslie  didn't  want  Portia  to  know. 
She  took  the  elevator  to  the  fourteenth  floor,  went  down 
the  thickly  carpeted  corridor  to  the  door  marked  E.  And 
there  she  had  another  piece  of  luck.  As  she  approached, 
a  woman  came  out  of  the  apartment,  a  plain  woman  in  a 
plain  cloth  coat,  with  the  hem  of  a  black  sateen  uniform 
showing  beneath  the  hem  of  the  coat.  The  woman  went 
down  the  hall  in  the  opposite  direction  without  glancing  at 
Portia,  and  Portia  guessed  that  Leslie  was  temporarily 
maidless. 

She  went  forward,  rapped  sharply  on  Leslie's  door. 
For  a  moment  there  was  no  sound  then  Leslie  called  out, 
"I'm  coming — I'm  coming!  You  certainly  weren't  in  any 
hurry  to  get  here.     I  just  now  sent  my  maid — " 

She  swung  the  door  open  impatiently  in  the  midst  of  her 
speech,   and  at  first  her  eyes  didn't  focus  upon  Portia. 
Then  her  face  went  queerly  flat,  as  if  a  board  had  been 
slammed   into    it.      She   made    a    convulsive,    instinctive 
movement  to  shut  the  door.    Portia  made  an  equally  in- 
stinctive movement  to  step  inside. 
"Hello,  Leslie,"  she  said  easily. 
Leslie  gasped.    "You!" 
Portia  nodded.     "Yes.    May  I  come  in?" 
Leslie  was  exquisite  as  always,  in  a  champagne-colored 
negligee  that  accented  answering  lights  in  her  hair.    But 
for  once  Portia  was  treated  to  the  spectacle  of  her  stutter- 
ing like  a  schoolgirl. 

"Well — I —  wasn't  expecting — " 

"I  know  you  weren't  expecting  me,"  Portia  agreed.  "Or 
perhaps  I  should  say — you  were  hoping  I  wouldn't  come." 


Mark  Ra 
played  by 


"Well,  really!  I — "  Then  she  deliberately  raised  her 
voice.    "I  was  expecting  a  package." 

Portia  stepped  inside.     "I  want  to  talk  to  you,  Leslie." 

"Keep   your   voice   down!"   Leslie   hissed.     "Here — we 

can  talk  in  the  bedroom."    And  again  her  voice  rose.  "I've 

waited  all   afternoon  for  that  package.     Thank  heaven, 

it's  finally  come !    I'll  take  it  into  the  bedroom." 

Portia,  bewildered  by  the  play-acting,  by  being  almost 
forcibly  thrust  into  Leslie's  bedroom,  was  the  more 
shocked  at  the  livid  face  Leslie  turned  to  her  as  she  shut 
the  bedroom  door. 

"How  dare  you  come  sneaking  in  like  this?"  she 
snapped.  "You  were  told  when  you  called  that  I  wasn't 
in — " 

"Which  I  knew  wasn't  true,"  Portia  interrupted.  "Your 
office  told  me  that  you  were  on  your  way  here." 

"Who  told  you?     Tyler?    I'll  have  her  job  for  that—"' 
Portia  blinked  at  the  sight  of  Leslie  livid  with  fury. 
"Why  are  you  afraid  of  me?"  she  asked.    "Why  have  you 
taken  such  precautions  to  avoid  seeing  me?" 

"Afraid  of  you!  Don't  flatter  yourself — "  Then  sud- 
denly her  manner  changed  completely,  became  almost 
friendly.  "I'm  sorry,  Portia.  I  didn't  mean  to  blaze  out 
at  you  this  way.  It's  just  that — well — I'm  hardly  dressed 
to  receive  company.   And — I'm  not  alone." 

"Not  alone?  But  I  saw  your  maid  leave  as  I  came  in — " 
And  then  she  understood,  and  blushed  deeply.  "Oh,  I 
didn't  realize — I  didn't  know— I'm  sorry — " 
"I'm  sorry,  too."  Leslie's  eyes  narrowed 
with  derisive  amusement.  "Sorry  that  I 
shocked  you,  Portia.  And  you  are  shocked, 
aren't  you?" 

She  was,  less  at  the  situation  than  at  Leslie's 
deliberately  flaunting  it.  "I'm  sure  your  pri- 
vate life  is  entirely  your  own  affair,  Leslie." 

Leslie  laughed.  "Well,  now  you  can  go  back 
to  Parkerstown  and  tell  your  friends  about 
that  horrible  Palmer  woman.  And  since 
you're  leaving  I'll  see  you  to  the  door." 

"But  I'm  not  leaving,"  said  Portia  steadily, 
"until  you  tell  me  where  Walter  is.' 

Leslie's  jaw  dropped.  "Walter!"  she  ex- 
claimed incredulously. 

More  play-acting,  Portia  thought.  "Yes, 
Walter — my  husband.  If  you'll  tell  me  where 
he  is,  I'll  leave  immediately." 

"Good  heavens,  don't  you  know?  But  surely 
he  wrote  you!     He  must  have!" 

Portia  felt  her  face  set  and  whiten,  felt  the  tears  gather- 
ing at  the  back  of  her  eyes.  Oh,  Walter,  she  thought,  how 
could  you  do  this  to  me — make  me  beg  Leslie  Palmer,  of 
all  people,  for  a  crumb  of  information  about  you?  Leslie, 
who's  playing  a  cat-and-mouse  game  with  me,  and  enjoy- 
ing every  moment  of  it.  I've  some  pride,  too,  Walter.  I 
can't  admit  to  her  that  you  haven't  written,  haven't  sent 
me  word  of  any  kind. 

Leslie  stepped  toward  her,  hands  outstretched,  all  sym- 
pathy, triumph  cloaked  in  commiseration.  "Oh  my  dear!" 
she  murmured.  "He  didn't!  He  promised — he  told  me — -I 
can't  believe  it  of  him.  In  all  the  time  I've  known  him, 
Walter's  never  been  deliberately  cruel.  I  knew  he'd 
changed  since  he  left  Hollywood  to  go  back  to  Parkers- 
town;  I  sensed  it  the  moment  he  got  there.  But  for  him 
to  do  a  thing  like  this  to  you,  Portia — " 

Portia  drew  back,  every  nerve  flinching.   "What  has  he 
done,  Leslie?  What  are  you  trying 
to  say?" 

Leslie  ignored  the  questions. 
"On  the  other  hand,"  she  said  with 
a  judicial  air  of  trying  to  be  fair, 
"you're  partly  to  blame,  Portia. 
You  know — you  must  have  known 
— how  he  hates  the  idea  of  your 
practising  law.  Whatever  possessed 
you  to  take  that  case  at  the  very 
last  minute?" 

"All  that's  beside  the  point.  It's 
over  now,  and — " 

"He  was  frightfully  bitter  about 
it,"  Leslie  went  on.  "The  promises 
you'd  made,  the  time  you'd  said  you 
were  through  (Cont'd  on  page  91) 


ndall    .   .   . 
Lyle  Sudrow 


Miss  Daisy played 

by  Doris  Rich 


65 


R 

M 

66 


AU  Times  Below  Are  EASTERN  TIME 
For  Correot  CENTRAL  STANDARD  TIME,  Subtract  One  Hour 


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DOROTHY  LAMOUR—  headlines  the 
Seal-Test  Variety  Show  Thursday 
nights  at  9:30  P.M.,  EST,  on  NBC. 


DAVID  RANDOLPH  _wh0  writes  the 
program  notes  for  all  the  serious  music 
heard  on  CBS  is  also  commentator 
on  Music  for  the  Connoisseur  (Tues. 
WNYC)  on  which  he  presents  music 
off  the  beaten  path.  Busy  as  he  is, 
Randolph,  who  admits  he  owns  a  con- 
ductor's voice  ("ghastly,"  he  says)  still 
finds  time  to  conduct  his  group 
of    six   talented    madrigal    singers. 


1*1 

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BARBARA  EILER  —didn't  have  to 
travel  to  gain  experience.  She  made 
good  in  her  own  home  town,  Los 
Angeles,  where  at  sixteen  she  made 
her  radio  debut  on  a  local  station  and 
decided  that  this  was  the  career  for 
her.  Before  long  she  was  appearing 
on  the  Frank  Morgan  show.  Now, 
she's  the  naive  Mildred  Anderson  on 
NBC's  Dennis  Day  Show,  on  Saturday. 


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Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNellis 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

Art  Van  Damme 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Quartet 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Misc.  Programs 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

The  Green  Hornet 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Sky  King 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

12:00 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 

Welcome  Travelers 

Wendy  Warren 

12:15 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 

Kate  Smith  Sings 

Aunt  Jenny 

12:30 

Words  and  Music. 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Maggi  McNellis 

Helen  Trent 

12:45 

Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 

NBC  Concert  Orch. 

Cedric  Foster 

Bill  Baukhage 

Big  Sister 

1:15 

Happy  Gang 

Nancy  Craig 

Ma  Perkins 

1:30 

Robert  McCormick 

Young  Dr.  Malone 

1:45 

Jack  Kilty 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 

Double  or  Nothing 

Queen  For  A  Day 

Bkfst.  in  Hollywood 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 

2:15 

Perry  Mason 

2:30 

Today's  Children 

Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bride  and  Groom 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 

2:45 

Light  of  the  World 

Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Ladies  Be  Seated 

David  Harum 

3:15 

Ma  Perkins 

Show 

Hilltop  House 

3:30 

Pepper  Young 

Heart's  Desire 

Galen  Drake 

House  Party 

3:45 

Right  to  Happiness 

4:00 

Backstage  Wife 

Misc.  Programs 

Second  Honeymoon 

Hint  Hunt 

4:15 

Stella  Dallas 

The  Johnson  Family 

4:30 

Lorenzo  Jones 

Treasury  Band  Show 

Winner  Take  All 

4:45 

Young  Widder  Brown 

Two  Ton  Baker 

5:00 

When  A  Girl  Marries 

Adventure  Parade 

Challenge  of  the 

Treasury  Bandstand 

5:15 

Portia  Faces  Life 

Capt.  Midnight 

Yukon 

5:30 

Just  Plain  Bill 

Superman 

Jack  Armstrong 

The  Chicagoans 

5:45 

Front  Page  Farrell 

Tom  Mix 

Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 

John  MacVane 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Talks 

6:30 

Local  Programs 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Edition 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

The  Smoothies 

News 

Lone  Ranger 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Blondie 

Special  Agent 

Original  Amateur 

Mr.  Chameleon] 

8:15 

Hour,  Ted  Macks, 

8:30 

Great  Gildersleeve 

High  Adventure 

M.C. 

Dr.  Christian 

8:45 

9:00 

Duffy's  Tavern 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Milton  Berle  Show 

Your  Song  and  Mine 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Mr.  District  Attorney 

Hollywood  Story 

Groucho  Marx  Show 

Harvest  of  Stars 
with  James  Melton 

9:55 

Bill  Henry 

10:00 

The  Big  Story 

Opinion-Aire 

Bing  Crosby 

Time's  A-Wastin'l 

10:15 

10:30 

Curtain  Time 

Dance  Orch. 

Meredith  Wilson 

Capitol  Cloak  Room 

6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

John  MacVane  _ 
Sketches  in  Melody 

Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 
Frontiers  of  Science 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
The  Smoothies 
H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Dinner  Date 

News 

Inside  of  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Meredith  Willson 
Musical 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

8:15 
8:30 

Mel  Torme  Show 
Date  With  Judy 

Mysterious  Traveler 
Official  Detective 

Youth  Asks  the 

Government 
Earl  Godwin 
America's  Town 

Meeting  of  the  Air 

Mystery  Theatre 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  North 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 

9:55 

Bob  Hope  Show 

Fibber  McGee  & 
Molly 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Under  Arrest 

Bill  Henry 

Edwin  D.  Canham 

We,  The  People 
Life  With  Luigl1 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Big  Town 
People  Are  Funny 

Public  Defender 
Dance  Orchestra 

NAM  Series 
Labor  U.  S.  A. 

Hit  The  Jackpot 

Morey  Amsterdam 
Show 

CASEY  ALLEN— who  plays  Dr.  An- 
drew White  on  Ma  Perkins,  started  out 
to  be  an  M.D.  himself  until  participa- 
tion in  over  30  plays  during  his  U.  of 
Minn,  days  caused  him  to  switch  to 
dramatics.  Subsequently,  he  acted  in 
more  than  100  plays  at  the  Pasadena 
Playhouse,  served  as  merchant  seaman 
during  the  war,  and  tried  advertising. 
He's  married  to  Fran  Carlon  (Lorelei, 
in  Big  Town).    They  have  a  child,  2. 


67 


A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker,  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
Dorothy  Kilgallen 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

ROGER  FORSTER— who  has  been 
automobile  salesman,  office  boy,  de- 
livery truck  driver,  and  professional 
model  is  finally  devoting  all  his  time 
to  radio  and  video  work;  he's  narrator 
on  Linda's  First  Love  and  also  heard 
on  Wendy  Warren.  Married  to  a  pretty 
Southern  girl,  they  have  a  4-year-old 
girl    and    live    in    Englewood,    N.    J. 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

Harkness  of  Wash- 
ington 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smitn  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  at  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNeills 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Art  Van  Damme 

Quartet 
Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jamboree 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 
The  Guiding  Light 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  a  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hllywd. 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Heart's  Desire 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Second  Honeymoon 
Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

The  Green  Hornet 
Sky  King 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Sketches  in  Melody 
Sunoco  News 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Eric  Sevareid 

Of  Men  and  Books 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Chesterfield  Club 
News  of  the  World 
Art  Van  Damme 
Quintet 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 
Dinner  Date 
News 
Inside  Sports 

Headline  Edition 
Elmer  Davis 
Final  Edition 

Beulah 

Jack  Smith  Show 

Club  15 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 

Aldrich  Family 
Burns  and  Allen 

Talent  Jackpot 
Better  Half  Quiz 

Abbott  and  Costello 
To  Be  Announced 

The  F.B.I.  In  Peace 

and  War 
Mr.  Keen 

|  9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:55 

Al  Jolson  Show 
Dorothy  Lamour 

Gabriel  Heatter 
Radio  Newsreel 
Revere  Revue 
Bill  Henry 

Child's  World 

Suspense 

Crime  Photographer 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

Screen  Guild  Theatre 
Fred  Waring  Show 

Family  Theatre 
Dance  Orch. 

Local  Programs 

Hallmark  Playhouse 
First  Nighter 

A.M. 

NBC 

MBS 

ABC 

CBS 

8:30 
8:45 

Do  You  Remember 

Local  Programs 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Honeymoon  in  N.  Y. 
Clevelandaires 

Editor's  Diary 
Tell  Your  Neighbor 
Bob  Poole  Show 

Breakfast  Club 

CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

10:00 
10:15 
10:30 

10:45 

Fred  Waring 
Road  of  Life 
The  Brighter  Day 

Cecil  Brown 
Faith  in  Our  Time 
Say  It  With  Music 

My  True  Story 

Betty  Crocker  Mag- 
azine of  the  Air 
The  Listening  Post 

Music  For  You 
Arthur  Godfrey 

11:00 
11:15 
11:30 

11:45 

This  Is  Nora  Drake 
We  Love  And  Learn 
Jack  Berch 

Lora  Lawton 

Passing  Parade 
Victor  H.  Lindlahr 
Gabriel  Heatter's 

Mailbag 
Minute  Quiz 

Kay  Kyser 
Ted  Malone 
Kiernan's  Corner 

Grand  Slam 
Rosemary 

AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 
12:15 

12:30 
12:45 

The  Betty  Harris 

Show 
Words  and  Music 

Kate  Smith  Speaks 
Kate  Smith  Sings 

Luncheon  At  Sardi's 

Welcome  Travelers 
Maggi  McNellis 

Wendy  Warren 
Aunt  Jenny 

Helen  Trent 
Our  Gal  Sunday 

1:00 
1:15 
1:30 
1:45 

Milton  Katim's  Show 

Robert  McCormick 
Jack  Kilty 

Cedric  Foster 
Happy  Gang 

Checkerboard 
Jambores 

Bill  Baukhage 
Nancy  Craig 

Big  Sister 
Ma  Perkins 
Young  Dr.  Malone 

2:00 
2:15 
2:30 
2:45 

Double  or  Nothing 

Today's  Children 
Light  of  the  World 

Queen  For  A  Day 
Golden  Hope  Chest 

Bkfst.  in  Hllywd. 
Bride  and  Groom 

Second  Mrs.  Burton 
Perry  Mason 
This  Is  Nora  Drake 
Evelyn  Winters 

3:00 
3:15 
3:30 
3:45 

Life  Can  Be  Beautiful 
Ma  Perkins 
Pepper  Young 
Right  to  Happiness 

Red  Benson  Movie 

Show 
Heart's  Desire 

Ladies  Be  Seated 
Galen  Drake 

David  Harum 
Hilltop  House 
House  Party 

4:00 
4:15 
4:30 
4:45 

Backstage  Wife 
Stella  Dallas 
Lorenzo  Jones 
Young  Widder  Brown 

Misc.  Programs 
Johnson  Family 
Misc.  Programs 
Two  Ton  Baker 

Second  Honeymoon 
Treasury  Band  Show 

Hint  Hunt 
Winner  Take  All 

5:00 
5:15 
5:30 
5:45 

When  A  Girl  Marries 
Portia  Faces  Life 
Just  Plain  Bill 
Front  Page  Farrell 

Adventure  Parade 
Capt.  Midnight 
Superman 
Tom  Mix 

Challenge  of  the 

Yukon 
Jack  Armstrong 

Treasury  Bandstand 

The  Chicagoans 
Alka  Seltzer  Time 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


i 

M 

68 


UNA  MERKEL— familiar  to  movie- 
goers as  a  scatter-brained  blonde, 
"allows"  it's  a  relief  to  play  the  cal- 
culating Adeline  Fairchild  (who  isn't 
all  frill  and  froth)  in  Great  Gilder- 
sleeve.  Before  entering  radio,  Una 
spent  many  years  on  the  stage  and 
screen,  acting  in  plays  with  Lillian 
Gish,  Helen  Hayes  and  Walter  Huston 
before    going    into    motion    pictures. 


6:00 

News 

Eric  Sevareid 

6:15 

Sketches  in  Melody 

Local  Programs 

Local  Programs 

Report  from  the 

6:30 

United  Nations 

6:45 

Sunoco  News 

Lowell  Thomas 

7:00 

Chesterfield  Club 

Fulton  Lewis,  Jr. 

Headline  Editor 

Beulah 

7:15 

News  of  the  World 

Dinner  Date 

Elmer  Davis 

Jack  Smith  Show 

7:30 

Henry  J.  Taylor 

Lone  Ranger 

Club  15 

7:45 

H.  V.  Kaltenborn 

Inside  of  Sports 

Edward  R.  Murrow 

8:00 

Cities  Service  Band 

Great  Scenes  From 

The  Fat  Man 

Jack  Carson  Show 

8:15 

Of  America 

Great  Plays 

8:30 

Jimmy  Durante 
Show 

Leave  It  to  the  Girls 

This  Is  Your  FBI 

Mr.  Ace  and  Jane 

9:00 

Eddie  Cantor  Show 

Gabriel  Heatter 

Break  the  Bank 

Ford  Theatre 

9:15 

Radio  Newsreel 

9:30 

Red  Skelton  Show 

Lionel  Hampton 

The  Sheriff 

9:45 

Show 

10:00 

Life  of  Riley 

Meet  the  Press 

Boxing  Bouts 

Everybody  Wins, 

10:15 

Phil  Baker 

10:30 

Sports 

Dance  Orch. 

Spotlight  Revue 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 


10:00 
10:15 
10:30 
10:45 


11:00 
11:15 
11:30 
11:45 


Story  Shop 

Mind  Your  Manners 


Mary  Lee  Taylor 
Archie  Andrews 


Meet  the  Meeks 
Smilin'  Ed  McConnell 


MBS 


Robert  Hurleigh 
Ozark  Valley  Folks 


Bill  Harrington 
Misc.  Programs 


Movie  Matinee 
Teen  Timer's  Club 


Shoppers  Special 


This  Is  For  You 

Johnny  Thompson 
Saturday  Strings 


Abbott  and  Costello 

Don  Gardiner 
Buddy  Weed 


CBS  News  of  America 
Barnyard  Follies 

Garden  Gate 


Red  Barber's  Club- 

House 
Mary  Lee  Taylor 


Let's  Pretend 
Junior  Miss 


AFTERNOON   PROGRAMS 


12:00 

Arthur  Barriault 

Magic  Rhythm 

Junior  Junction 

Theatre  of  Today 

12:15 

Public  Affairs 

Grand  Central 

12:30 

American  Farmer 

Station 

12:45 

Coffee  in  Congress 

This  Week  in  Wash- 
ington 

1:00 

Nat'l  Farm  Home 

Smoky  Mt.  Hayride 

Maggi  McNeills, 

County  Fair 

1:15 

Herb  Sheldon 

1:30 

Edmond  Tomlinson 

Piano  Playhouse 

Give  and  Take 

1:45 

Report  From  Europe 

2:00 

Music  For  The 

Time  For  Melody 

Football 

Stars  Over  Holly- 

2:15 

Moment 

wood 

2:30 

Music,  Opera 

Football 

2:45 

3:00 

Dell  Trio 

Football 

3:15 

3:30 

Local  Programs 

Music 

3:45 

4:00 

Music 

Football 

4:15 

4:30 

Local  Programs 

Charlie  Slocum 

Local  Programs 

4:45 

First  Church  of 
Christ  Science 

5:00 

Take  A  Number 

Tea  and  Crumpets 

Chuck  Foster's 

5:15 

Orch. 

5:30 

True  or  False 

Melodies  to  Remem- 
ber 

Make  Way  For 
Youth 

5:45 

Lassie  Show 

Dorothy  Guldheim 

EVENING  PROGRAMS 


6:00 
6:15 
6:30 
6:45 

Peter  Rooerts 
Art  of  Living 
NBC  Symphony 

Dance  Orchestra 

Jack  Beall 

News  from  Wash- 
ington 

Memo  From  Lake 
Success 

Saturday  Sports 
Review 

Larry  Lesueur 

7:00 
7:15 
7:30 
7:45 

Vic  Damone,  Hollace 
Shaw 

Hawaii  Calls 

Robert  Hurliegh 
Mel  Allen 

Treasury  Bond  Show 
Famous  Jury  Trials 

Camel  Caravan  with 
Vaughn  Monroe 

8:00 
8:15 
8:30 
8:45 

Hollywood  Star 
Theatre 

Truth  or  Conse- 
quences 

Twenty  Questions 

Stop  Me  If  You've 
Heard  This  One 

Johnny  Flstcher 

The  Amazing  Mr. 
Malone 

Sing  It  Again 

9:00 
9:15 
9:30 
9:45 

Your  Hit  Parade 
Judy  Canova  Show 

Life  Begins  at  80 

Gang  Busters 
What's  My  Name? 

Winner  Take  All 

It  Pays  To  Be 
Ignorant 

10:00 
10:15 

10:30 

Day  in  the  Life  of 
Dennis  Day 

Grande  Ole  Opry 

Theatre  of  the  Air 

Whiz  Quiz  With 
Johnny  Olsen, 
M.C. 

Hayloft  Hoedown 

Hometown  Reunion 

National  Guard  Mili- 
tary Ball 

CLAUDIA  MORGAN— with  more 
than  30  Broadway  roles  to  her  credit, 
never  studied  dramatics;  she  didn't 
have  to — her  father  is  Ralph  Morgan 
and  her  uncle  is  Tall  Story  Hank. 
Claudia,  who  inherits  much  of  her 
beauty  from  her  Norwegian  actress 
mother,  is  heard  regularly  as  Carolyn 
Kramer  in  Right  to  Happiness,  NBC. 


Handy    for    desk    use, 

Crosley's   sleek   table 

model,  9-102. 


The  Modern  design  walnut  plastic  cabinet  of  the  Cros- 
ley  table  model  (9-102)  boasts  curved  grille  louvers, 
decorative  control  knobs  and  general  appearance  of 
smartness.  It's  just  the  right  size  for  desk  use  in  that 
man's  den.  Being  a  superheterodyne  set,  it  will  pro- 
vide plenty  of  sensitivity  and  selectivity. 


For    FM    reception: 
Stromberg-Carlson's  Courier. 


If  it's  FM  reception  you  want,  Stromberg-Carlson  has 
recently  announced  a  table  model  called  the  Courier, 
which  combines  both  AM  and  FM  reception  in  an 
attractive  walnut  veneer  cabinet.  The  eight  inch 
speaker  is  suspended  in  live  rubber  and  the  set  in- 
cludes built-in  antennas.    It  sells  for  less  than  $200. 


Bendix  Radio  has  announced  a  combination  console  in 
a  fine  18th  Century  cabinet  in  mahogany  veneers.  The 
set  measures  38"  high,  39"  wide  and  21"  deep.  Features 
in  which  you  may  be  particularly  interested  are  the 
10"  direct  view  television  screen,  an  AM  and  FM 
radio  receiver,  a  record  changer,  a  12"  speaker  and 
built-in  antennas. 


A  streamlined 
table  model 
radio  (Model 
66x13)  is  RCA 
Victor's  contri- 
bution to  the 
market.  You 
may  be  inter- 
ested in  the 
lighted  station 
numerals  and 
the  dial  face 
that  is  slanted 
so  that  it  is 
equally  visible 
from  a  sitting  or  standing  position.  It  sells  for  less 
than  $40  and  comes  in  walnut  or  mahogany  finish. 


RCA  -  Victor, 
easy-to-see  dial. 


69 


Elsie  Brandt  gives  Terry 
Burton  useful  hints  on 
buying   intelligently. 


By  TERRY  BURTON 


Every    Wednesday,     The    Second    Mrs.    Burton    is 

visited     by    a     Family    Counselor.     Through    this    department 

Terry  Burton  shares  some  of  these  visits  with  Radio  Mirror  readers.    The  program  is  heard  daily,  2  P.M.  EST,  CBS. 


70 


ALTHOUGH  my  favorite  hobby  is  planning  clothes  for 
myself  and  my  friends,  I  sometimes  have  a  little 
trouble  managing  the  time.  With  a  new  baby  on 
my  hands  and  a  home  and  husband  to  look  after, 
creative  designing  sometimes  seems  like  a  piece  of  self- 
indulgence.  After  little  Wendy  was  born,  I  looked  for- 
ward eagerly  to  my  long-planned  trip  to  New  York, 
where  I  was  going  to  haunt  the  shops  and  see  the  new 
designs  at  the  wholesale  dress  houses,  and  have  a  luxu- 
rious time  altogether — and  then  it  turned  out  that  all 
I  could  spare  was  two  days  away  from  Wendy  and  Stan, 
and  our  life  in  Dickston. 

However,  I  made  a  special  point  of  getting  to  see 
Elsie  Brandt,  promotionist  at  Capri  Original,  one  of 
the  famous  wholesale  establishments.  Miss  Brandt  had 
been  one  of  our  most  exciting  Family  Counselors,  and 
had  given  my  listener  friends  and  me  some  pointed, 
genuinely  helpful  ideas  about  wardrobe-planning  when 
she  dropped  by  at  our  house  during  her  visit  to  Dick- 
ston. She  had  said,  for  example,  that  women  would 
do  better  to  give  more  time  to  planning,  and  less  to 
shopping  around.  A  plan,  written  down  in  black  and 
white,  is  the  best  way  to  avoid  being  side-tracked  by 
a  glamorous  hat  or  pair  of  shoes  that  have  no  real 
place  in  your  closet.  And  she  emphasized,  again  and 
again,  her  ideas  about  economy.  "Yes,"  she  said,  "a 
wardrobe,  for  the  average  woman,  must  be  planned 
with  economy.  But  economy,  in  my  view,  means  just 
this:  buying  the  best  you  can  afford.  Fine  workman- 
ship, good  fabric,  wise  and  intelligent  design  are  long- 
term  investments." 

I  told  her  then — and  I'd  like  to  tell  all  of  you — how 
much  I  agree!  You  see,  I  think  what  Miss  Brandt  said 
is  just  part  of  a  wider  philosophy.     Getting  and  giving 


the  best  that  is  possible  can  be  applied  to  every  circum- 
stance of  your  life.  Friendship,  truth — happiness  itself 
— these  items  are  not  bought  at  a  bargain  basement  or 
a  fire  sale.  If  you  yourself  are  not  generous  with  these 
things  you  will  receive  only  superficial  loyalties  and 
half-truths  in  return. 

For  women,  whose  lives  are  made  up  so  often  of  small, 
everyday  things,  this  philosophy  must  be  translated  into 
small,  everyday  uses.  I  feel  strongly  that  a  woman's 
clothes  can  be  a  valid  expression  of  this  attitude  toward 
life.  A  determination  never  to  be  satisfied  with  any- 
thing shoddy  can  surely  be  extended  to  cover  a  refusal 
to  have  a  closet  full  of  cheap,  flimsy  garments  when 
one  may  have  two  or  three  well-made,  well-designed 
outfits  instead. 

When  I  saw  Miss  Brandt's  designs,  in  her  workroom 
at  Capri  in  New  York,  I  knew  that  here  was  the  con- 
crete expression  of  my  ideas  about  clothes.  Any  one 
of  her  gowns,  from  the  most  tailored  to  the  most  lush, 
would  be  an  investment  that  would  take  you  happily 
through  many  seasons.  She  cautioned  me  again — as  she 
had  cautioned  our  listeners  when  she  was  our  Family 
Counselor — to  avoid  the  pitfall  of  buying  for  a  single 
occasion.  Not  only  should  your  major  garment,  be  it 
dress  or  suit  or  ensemble  be  bought  with  an  eye  to  its 
fitness  for  your  particular  way  of  life,  but  all  your 
accessories  are  best  acquired  in  conformance  with  a 
long-range  plan.  That  way,  you  don't  suffer  the  tragedy 
of  paying  far  too  much  for  a  purse  or  a  pair  of  gloves 
that  must  hide  at  the  back  of  the  bureau  drawer  when 
it  is  not  being  worn  with  the  dress  for  which  it  was 
bought.  Flexibility,  said  Miss  Brandt — and  I  agree — is 
definitely  one  of  the  requirements  that  accessories  must 
fill  in  the  efficiently-planned  wardrobe. 


It's  Not  the  Money 
that  Counts 

(Continued  from  page  37) 

young  actresses  hope  some  day  to  star 
on  Broadway.  Some  of  these  an- 
nouncers have  the  courage  to  break 
into  the  big  time  and  others  have  the 
talent  but  few  have  both.  Bert  Parks 
had  the  winning  combination  to  rate 
a  job  as  staff  announcer  with  CBS  at 
the  age  of  seventeen,  a  feat  that's  never 
been  repeated  at  any  of  the  major  net- 
works. 

"I  didn't  let  on  how  young  I  was," 
Bert  explains  but  it's  doubtful  that  CBS 
was  fooled,  for  now,  at  the  age  of  thirty- 
three,  Bert  easily  passes  for  twenty-five. 

Bert's  next  break  came  when  he  was 
given  his  own  singing  program,  Dear 
Columbia,  over  the  network.  Then,  as 
everyone  knows,  he  was  straight  man 
and  singer  for  Eddie  Cantor  in  1939 
and  1940.  He  announced  and  sang  for 
Benny  Goodman  and  Xavier  Cugat  on 
the  Caravan. 

"But  the  biggest  break  of  my  life 
came  when  I  let  a  friend  talk  me  into 
a  blind  date,"  Bert  said.  "I  never  real- 
ized how  much  living  I  was  missing 
I  till  I  married  Annette.  She's  wonder  - 
I  ful,  sensible  and  very  beautiful  but 
you've  got  to  see  her  for  yourself." 

And  he's  quite  right! 

For  New  Yorkers,  jammed  into  con- 
crete caves  that  are  called  apartment 
buildings,  the  only  way  of  getting  their 
children  into  an  unreasonable  facsimile 
of  nature  is  to  take  a  bus  to  one  of  the 
i  rivers  where  the  city  has  set  up  a  few 
benches,  trees,  and  maybe  a  heap  of 
sand  or  a  small  pool  for  wading.  At 
one  of  these  clearings  off  the  East 
River,  you  are  likely  to  find  Annette 
Parks  and  the  twins. 

SHE  is  little  and  nimble  as  only  a 
mother  of  two-year-old  twins  must 
be  and  at  any  moment  she  may  be  dash- 
ing through  a  group  of  children  to  re- 
trieve a  small,  energetic  boy  who  is 
about  to  make  a  scooter  airborne. 

"That  stuff  about  being  as  busy  as  a 
one-armed  paper  hanger  doesn't  even 
begin  to  tell  the  story,"  she  says. 

Her  face  is  slightly  flushed  from  chas- 
ing the  children.  Her  eyes  are  deep 
green,  her  hair  light  brown.  As  she 
talks,  her  head  shifts  constantly,  fol- 
lowing the  twins,  ready  to  lend  a  guid- 
ing hand  to  one  of  the  boys  before  he 
gets  into  trouble. 

Annette  vividly  remembers  her  first 
date  with  Bert.  Both  were  skeptical 
about  a  blind  date  and  when  Bert's 
friend  suggested  he  make  a  date  for 
both  Saturday  and  Sunday  with  a  girl 
he'd  never  seen,  Bert  balked.  However, 
they  had  so  much  fun  together  the  first 
evening  that  Bert  was  annoyed  when 
Annette  couldn't  see  him  the  following 
night  because,  naturally,  she  had  made 
other  arrangements. 

She  was  Annette  Liebman  then,  just 
graduated  from  Columbia  University 
and  working  as  a  dental  assistant.  But 
she  well  remembers  the  happiness  and 
companionship  of  their  pre-marital 
days.  Both  loved  good  food  and  to- 
gether would  hunt  up  out-of-the-way 
restaurants  in  New  York,  then  go  to 
Number  One  Fifth  Avenue  to  hear  a 
favorite  singer.  In  between,  they  took 
long  drives  into  the  country  with  Bert 
playing  the  singing  troubadour. 

"When  you  see  the  male  lead  in  a 
movie  singing  to  his  sweetheart,  most 
people  know  real  life  isn't  like  that," 


T%t(  DuflfoA  smile  wins 
her  a  story-book  career ! 


Peggy  Diggins,  Beauty  Director  at  famed  John 
Robert  Powers  School,  attracts  glamorous  assign- 
ments wherever  she  goes.  Peggy's  charming  smile 
was  first  spotted  by  a  famous  columnist,  who 
launched  her  on  a  promising  movie  career. 

When  war  began,  Peggy  left  Hollywood  to  join 
the  WAC.  Overseas,  another  exciting  task  awaited 
her— as  a  war  correspondent,  she  interviewed 
world-famous  people.  Now  marriage  and  mother- 
hood keep  Peggy  in  New  York.  Her  winning  smile 
serves  as  a  shining  example  to  her  Powers 
students.  It's  a  Pepsodent  Smile!  Peggy  says, 
"Using  Pepsodent  is  part  of  my  beauty  routine." 


The  smile  that  wins 
is  the  Pepsodent  Smile ! 


Peggy  Diggins  knows  it.  And  people  all  over 
America  agree  — the  smile  that  wins  is  the 
Pepsodent  Smile!  They've  seen  how  Pep- 
sodent removes  the  film  that  makes  teeth 
look  dull  —  uncovers  new  brightness  in 
their  smiles! 

Wins  3  to  1  over  any  other  tooth  paste 
—  families  from  coast  to  coast  recently 
compared  New  Pepsodent  with  the  tooth 
paste  they  were  using  at  home.  By  an  aver- 
age of  3  to  1,  they  said  Pepsodent  tastes 
better,  makes  breath  cleaner  and  teeth 
brighter  than  any  other  tooth  paste  they 
tried.  For  the  safety  of  your  smile  use  Pepso- 
dent twice  a  day— see  your  dentist  twice  a  year! 


•g*g$     ^ 


ANOTHER   FINE   LEVER   BROTHERS   PRODUCT 


71 


How  Santa  Claus 
found  out... 


THERES  NOTHING] 
QUITE  LIKE 

ALKA$£LTZ£R 

FORReLIEV/NG\ 

THBMISERIES, 

OF  A  COLO 


^MarVtV 


1  DON'T  FEEL  LIKE 

V/    OH,  DON'T 

BEING  SANTA  CLAUS, 

/DISAPPOINT  THEM! 

THIS  COLDS  MAKING  I 

\  ALKA-SELTZER 

ME  MISERABLE^! 

m^sHwxRmiY 

P^k    BRING- 

s~  m  you  < 

WFAST 

^WR£U£F'j 

\  S^  m,/^22r~ 

DRINK  IT  DOWN  J  SEE  HOW  PAST 

ALKA-SELTZER  will  EASE 

THOSE  ACHES  AND  PAINS 


rMERRY  CHRISTMAS! 

THERES  NOTH I N6 QUITE 

LIKE  ALKA-SBLTZiR 

FOR  RELIEVING 

THE  MISERIES 

OF  A  COLO  ! 


72 


Annette  says.  "But  our  days  of  court- 
ship were  like  something  out  of  a  musi- 
cal.   Bert  has  a  beautiful  voice." 

Their  favorite  songs  were  "The  White 
Cliffs  of  Dover"  and  "I  Don't  Want  to 
Walk  Without  You,  Baby."  Together 
Bert  and  Annette  had  so  much  fun  that 
they  felt  none  of  the  desperation  that 
often  makes  young  couples  worry  about 
marriage.  Then  came  the  war  and  with 
it  a  more  serious  attitude. 

Bert  enlisted  in  the  infantry  as  a 
private.  With  an  enforced  separation 
they  both  realized  their  love  for  each 
other.  And  when  Bert  graduated  from 
Infantry  OCS  in  June  1943,  Annette 
swooped  down  to  Atlanta  in  a  plane 
and  they  were  married.  While  Bert 
was  at  Camp  Wheeler,  they  lived  the 
typical  life  of  an  army  couple.  It  was 
impossible  to  find  a  home  or  apartment 
so  they  lived  in  one  flea-ridden  hotel 
room  after  another.  Finally,  after  three 
months  Annette  found  a  furnished 
room  in  a  private  house. 

I  WAS  very  excited  because  even  a 
single  room  can  be  fixed  up  enough 
to  call  home,"  Annette  recalls.  "Bert's 
mother  and  I  chased  all  over  Atlanta 
trying  to  buy  hard-to-get  sheets  and 
pillow  cases  but  we  could  have  saved 
ourselves  the  trouble." 

What  happened  was  that  they  moved 
into  their  new  "home"  on  a  Monday 
morning.  All  that  day  Annette  fussed 
about  the  room  making  it  livable  but 
when  Bert  got  back  from  camp  that 
evening  his  face  was  long  and  sad. 

"I  knew  what  was  wrong  without 
being  told,"  she  said.  "He  had  his  or- 
ders to  ship  overseas." 

While  Bert  spent  two  years  with 
"Vinegar  Joe"  Stilwell  in  the  CBI 
Theater,  Annette  moved  in  with  her 
parents  in  Connecticut  and  worked  in 
the  New  Haven  Hospital  as  a  nurse's 
aide.  Yet  she  was  probably  one  of  the 
few  army  wives  who  had  a  regular 
Saturday  night  date  with  her  husband's 
voice  although  he  was  half-way  around 
the  world.  Bert  and  Finis  Farr  were 
making  wire  recordings  of  combat  ac- 
tivities that  were  played  weekly  over 
CBS  on  the  program  Yank  in  the 
Orient. 

But  Bert  wasn't  that  lucky.  Once  for 
a  period  of  six  months  he  didn't  receive 
a  letter  from  Annette.  Only  a  soldier 
who  has  been  in  the  jungles  can  realize 
his  anguish.  When  her  mail  finally 
caught  up  with  him,  he  had  85  letters. 
He  arranged  them  in  chronological  or- 
der and  read  each  one  through  to  the 
end.  In  the  meantime,  he  earned  the 
Bronze  Star  and  a  cluster  of  Battle 
Stars  the  hard  way.  The  wire  recorder 
missions  were  a  little  more  than  dan- 
gerous and  once  took  him  behind  the 
Jap  lines  for  three  weeks  when  several 
of  his  buddies  were  killed. 

Almost  two  years  to  the  month  that 
Bert  went  overseas,  he  returned  to  the 
states  a  Captain.  Then  he  and  Annette 
began  to  make  their  plans  for  a  home 
and  children,  but  Bert  was  to  meet  the 
same  difficulties  as  every  other  young 
veteran. 

For  months  they  searched  for  an 
apartment  in  New  York,  moving  from 
one  hotel  to  another  every  five  days. 
Bert  had  by  then  become  regular  quiz- 
master on  Break  the  Bank  and  an- 
nouncer on  Sunday  Evening  Party  and 
the  Guy  Lombardo  Show. 

Finally,  they  moved  into  a  dingy, 
dank  one-room  apartment.  The  place 
was  so  dark  they  had  to  keep  their 
lights  on  all  day  in  order  to  see.  It  was 
rough  and  expensive.  It  wasn't  the  kind 
of  home  that  Bert  and  other  veterans 


had  hoped  for  but  nevertheless  he  and 
Annette  were  together  and  he  was  back 
in  radio.  And  then  Bert  was  due  for 
another  surprise  one  evening  when  he 
got  home. 

"I've  been  to  the  doctor's,"  Annette 
said  calmly. 

"Are  you  sick?"  Bert  asked,  half- 
alarmed. 

Annette  smiled. 

"Just  a  check-up,"  she  said.  "I'm 
pregnant." 

He  sat  breathless  for  a  moment  then 
said,  "So  we're  going  to  have  a  baby." 

She  grinned  and  corrected  him. 

"We  might  even  have  babies  plural," 
she  said. 

Then  with  a  do-or-die  intensity  Bert 
began  to  look  for  a  new  home.  With 
twins  they  absolutely  had  to  have  a 
larger  and  better  apartment. 

"I  sniffed  around  buildings  like  a  dog. 
I  kept  my  ear  to  the  ground  like  an 
Indian  and  even  carried  a  rabbit's 
foot,"  Bert  said.  Finally,  he  found  a 
friend  of  a  friend  of  a  friend  who  was 
moving  and  offered  Bert  his  two-room 
apartment.  Not  a  large  home  but  a 
distinct  improvement  over  what  they 
had. 

A  month  before  the  babies  were  ex- 
pected, they  moved  in.  The  same  after- 
noon Annette  went  to  the  hospital  for 
a  check-up. 

"The  babies  weren't  due  for  a 
month,"  Bert  explained.  "At  the  hos- 
pital they  told  me  they  were  keeping 
Annette  for  a  few  days  because  she 
needed  a  rest." 

The  next  morning  Bert  was  awakened 
by  a  call  from  his  doctor  and  notified  he 
had  twins,  both  boys. 

"It  was  a  twilight  birth  for  the 
father,"  Bert  said.  "No  pacing.  No 
pains." 

Because  of  the  premature  birth,  the 
twins  required  more  care  than  usual 
when  Annette  finally  got  home. 

"You  should've  seen  our  two  little 
rooms  then,"  Bert  laughed.  "There  was 
Annette,  the  nurse,  a  cook,  me  and  the 
twins.  Fifteen  milk  bottles  in  the  re- 
frigerator, a  double-sized  baby  car- 
riage, and  two  of  everything  from  cribs 
to  toys.  What  a  madhouse.  It  really 
required  a  director  and  producer  to 
cross  a  room." 

THEY  call  the  twins  their  double  bless- 
ing. Jeff  and  Joel  have  what  they 
had  hoped  for  in  their  children:  a  good 
sense  of  humor.  They're  beginning  to 
talk  a  little  in  kind  of  a  mumble  that 
would  cause  Bert  trouble  if  they  were 
to  appear  on  a  quiz  program.  But  they 
definitely  have  a  sense  of  humor.  When 
either  one  is  asked  his  name,  he  gives 
the  name  of  his  brother.  And  they  have 
private  jokes.  They  mumble  to  each 
other  and  suddenly  start  laughing  but 
no  one  else  knows  why. 

The  twins  are  mad  about  their  father 
and  love  to  hear  him  sing.  When  he 
isn't  at  the  studios,  Bert  frequently 
takes  them  to  the  park.  Neither  one  of 
the  Parkses  cares  for  night  clubbing. 
Ten  minutes  after  a  broadcast  or  re- 
hearsal Bert  is  home.  They  still  enjoy 
a  good  dinner  out  and  a  play  but  most 
of  their  social  life  is  spent  quietly  with 
their  friends  Jack  and  Terry  Rayel, 
George  and  Helen  Zachary,  and  Mr.  & 
Mrs.  Music  (Andre  Baruch  and  his 
wife  Bea  Wain).  On  winter  evenings 
they  get  together  with  the  Baruchs  and 
while  Andre  chords  on  the  piano,  Bea 
and  Bert  ad  lib  to  a  Calypso  tune. 

"Bert  and  I  have  always  had  wonder- 
ful times  together,"  Annette  says.  "And 
it  seems  the  longer  we're  married,  the 
happier  we  are." 


When  Bert  is  free,  they  work  to- 
gether around  the  apartment,  take  care 
of  the  children  and  still  find  themselves 
late  at  night  in  deep  conversation  even 
as  they  did  during  the  early  days. 

OUTSIDE  of  the  very  cramped  apart- 
ment, Bert  Parks  is  in  an  enviable 
position  with  his  husky  boys  and  lovely 
wife  and  radio  success.  Stop  the  Music, 
started  over  ABC  last  spring,  is  climb- 
ing steadily  toward  the  very  peak  of 
audience  popularity.  It  has  already 
usurped  the  places  of  several  favorites. 
Break  the  Bank  during  the  past  years 
has  become  standard  entertainment  for 
millions  of  listeners.  Excitement  on 
both  these  shows  runs  high. 

"They're  both  swell  shows,"  Bert 
said.  "The  contestants  are  grand  even 
though  we  have  some  embarrassing  as 
well  as  amusing  incidents."  And  the 
M.C.,  naturally,  must  be  adept  at 
handling  whatever  comes. 

On  the  amusing  side  of  the  ledger 
was  the  contestant,  a  woman  from  the 
middle  west,  who  was  pregnant.  After 
she  had  earned  her  prizes  on  Break  the 
Bank,  Bert  held  her  at  the  mike  for  a 
moment. 

"There's  one  other  thing  I  hope  for 
you,"  he  said.  "May  you  be  as  lucky  as 
my  wife  and  I  were  and  have  twins." 

Four  months  later  he  had  a  letter 
from  her.  She  had  twins.  Fortunately 
for  Bert,  she  too  considered  herself 
lucky.  Some  people,  prepared  for  one 
child  and  confronted  with  two,  might 
have  been  a  trifle  upset! 

On  the  embarrassing  side  are  the 
phone  calls  he  gets  in  the  middle  of  the 
night  from  people  who  want  to  partici- 
pate in  quiz  programs;  the  strangers 
who  come  up  to  the  stage  and  pretend 
they've  known  him  for  years,  expect- 
ing easier  questions;  and  the  people  who 
offer  him  seats  on  buses,  hoping  it  may 
lead  to  tickets  for  his  shows. 

"That  really  bothers  me,"  Bert  ex- 
plained. "In  New  York,  no  one  offers 
another  person  a  seat  unless  he  is  carry- 
ing a  medical  certificate  that  he  has 
been  dead  for  an  hour." 

But  Bert  has  only  respect  for  hu- 
manity and  gratitude  for  the  people 
who  have  helped  him.  He's  thankful 
for  his  father's  rich  sense  of  humor, 
the  sense  of  responsibility  his  mother 
gave  him,  the  patient  help  of  his 
brother  and  the  assists  from  his  radio 
pal,  Bud  Collyer. 

"There's  still  the  future  and  a  lot  of 
it,  I  hope,"  Bert  said.  "On  the  personal 
side  I'd  like  to  have  a  decent  house  and 
continued  happiness  and  good  health 
for  my  family.  Professionally,  I'm  itch- 
ing to  get  into  television.  I  still  like  to 
move  around  and  mug." 

Bert  will  be  a  sensation  in  television, 
his  associates  predict.  They  point  to 
the  swell  job  he  did  on  his  first  tele- 
vision show,  Party  Line,  and  the  laughs 
he  gets  from  the  studio  audience. 

There's  one  question  about  quiz- 
masters that  everyone  wants  to  know 
the  answer  to.  What  happens  to  them 
when — somehow  or  other — they  get  to 
be  contestants  on  other  people's  quiz 
programs? 

It  might  be  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
world.  It  might  be  that  with  the  tech- 
nique he's  learned  from  handling  a 
show  of  his  own,  a  quizmaster  could  go 
before  anybody's  mike,  keep  his  head, 
answer  brilliantly,  and  walk  off  with 
the  whole  studio.  It  might  be — but  ac- 
cording to  Bert,  it's  not. 

Once — just  once — he  was  a  contest- 
ant, on  Bob  Hawk's  program.  He  was 
ready;  after  all,  he  knew  the  ropes  .  .  . 

He  fluffed  every  question. 


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74 


INSIST  ON 
CANDY   STRIPIO   PAC 


R.  F.  D.  America 

(Continued  from  page  41) 


general  information  to  have  some- 
thing to  say.  Finally,  I  had  the  ad- 
vantage of  a  little  radio  experience, 
gained  through  interviewing  on  WAUX, 
Waukesha,  the  boys  and  girls  who  are 
outstanding  in  dairy  club  work. 

With  the  other  winners  of  our  local 
elimination — Bill  Wright  and  Helen 
Swartz — I  made  the  trip  to  Chicago  a 
family  affair.  My  Mary  Jean,  Bill's 
wife,  and  Helen's  husband  joined  the 
party. 

The  Louis  G.  Cowan  office,  producers 
of  the  show,  gave  us  full-scale  visiting 
firemen  treatment. 

By  the  time  we  faced  the  micro- 
phones, we  had  lunched  at  the  Shera- 
ton, toured  the  Museum  of  Science  and 
Industry,  dined  at  Matt  Schulien's,  vis- 
ited Don  McNeill's  Breakfast  Club,  seen 
the  Board  of  Trade,  and  laughed 
through  the  stage  performance  of  "An- 
nie Get  Your  Gun."  Night  clubbing 
at  the  Panther  Room,  a  tour  of  the  stock 
yards,  Natural  History  Museum  and 
the  Aquarium  added  to  our  feeling  that 
Chicago  was  a  gigantic  show,  staged 
just  for  us. 

Sometime,  in  the  midst  of  this,  we 
had  rehearsals,  where  they  peppered 
us  with  questions  similar  to  the  ones 
which  would  be  used  in  the  broadcast. 
Bill,  Helen  and  I  were  to  be  pitted 
against  Michigan's  Doris  Handy,  Farm 
Champion  of  the  previous  week. 

The  rehearsals  gave  us  the  idea.  By 
the  time  we  faced  the  studio  audience, 
we  knew  this  was  no  walk-away. 

Today,  replaying  the  transcription 
I  received  of  the  show,  I  remember  the 
way  I  felt  when  Joe  Kelly,  then  M.C., 
began  hurling  questions. 

He  started  out  easy.  Are  men  more 
forgetful  than  women?  Prove  it.  What's 
your  wife's  birthday?  How  do  you 
identify  apples  by  their  shape  and 
size?  If  you  milked  a  cow  three  times 
a  day  instead  of  twice,  would  you  get 
more  milk? 

I  had  an  answer  for  that.  "Yes, 
about  20  per  cent  more."  I  knew.  Two 
years  before,  I  had  milked  General's 
Myrtle  three  times  a  day  for  a  record 
and  she  had  hit  it.  In  ten  months,  she 
produced  17,743  pounds  of  milk  with 
770  pounds  of  butter  fat. 

Joe  Kelly  whistled — whistled  songs 
which  should  suggest  kinds  of  cheese. 
"God  Bless  America"  brought  Bill's 
answer  of  American  cheese;  "My  Blue 


Heaven"  prompted  a  reply  of  Bleu 
cheese. 

Claiming  he  was  tired,  Joe  handed 
me  a  flute.  "I  hear  you  played  in  your 
high  school  band.  Will  you  help  me 
out?" 

He  called  the  notes.  I  responded 
with  solitary  toots.  My  playing  was 
rusty.  It  was  a  long  time  since  a  foot- 
ball coach  had  turned  me  into  a  musi- 
cian to  improve  my  wind. 

"A;  D;  C.    Now  go  back  to  E." 

I  caught  on.  I  dropped  my  flute  and 
raised  my  hand.  The  cheese  questions 
had  been  bait.  The  number  was  "Three 
Blind  Mice." 

"Play  it,"  commanded  Joe. 

The  audience  survived,  but  I  think 
the  mice  ran  back  into  their  holes. 

I  was  into  the  semi-finals.  I  used 
my  stock- judging  experience  to  enu- 
merate characteristics  of  a  good  milk 
cow,  then  drew  on  college  chemistry  to 
explain  that  "trace  elements"  were  mi- 
nute quantities  of  such  elements  as 
boron  and  cobalt.  Lacking  them,  seem- 
ingly rich  land  produces  crops  which 
fail  to  provide  adequate  nourishment 
for  either  livestock  or  humans. 

As  finalists,  Doris  Handy,  who  al- 
ready had  won  three  times,  and  I  tus- 
sled over  a  couple.  The  showdown 
question  was  announced. 

This  was  it.  I  shot  a  glance  at  Mary 
Jean  in  the  audience.  I  would  have 
given  anything  to  be  able  to  change 
places  with  her.  This  was  worse  than 
a  University  of  Wisconsin  exam.  I  got 
set,  expecting  a  tough  one. 

It  was  tough  all  right,  but  not  the 
way  I  anticipated. 

Said  Kelly,  "Thomas  Quincy,  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.  wants  us  to  imagine  a 
fireman  quits  chasing  fires  and  settles 
down  to  a  quiet,  peaceful  life  on  a 
farm.  He  wants  to  surround  himself 
with  his  favorite  color — red.  Take 
turns.  Name  the  items.  You  have  five 
seconds  each." 

Mentally,  I  took  a  color  inventory  of 
our  farm.  The  only  trouble  was,  Doris 
thought  of  the  same  things  I  did. 

She  got  barn,  tractor,  Devon  cows, 
handles  on  farm  tools,  spaniel  dog.  I 
named  Duroc  hogs,  Guernsey  cattle, 
short  horn  cattle,  red  poled  cattle. 

What  else  was  red?  This  show- 
down was  getting  rugged. 

Doris  was  reaching  too.  "Red  sus- 
penders."    The  audience  howled. 


*?t  fa&ct*tate4>  me  5  mwuti*ty&  a  cvee& 


Every  morning,  Monday  through  Friday,  you 
"meet  new  people"  on  "My  True  Story"  Radio 
Program.  Every  morning  you  follow  a  complete, 
true-life  drama  prepared  in  cooperation  with  the 
editors  of  True  Story  Magazine.  On  "My  True 
Story"  no  long  drawn-out  episodes  .  .  .  no  re- 
hash of  yesterday's  story.  That's  why  so  many 
thousands  of  women  listen  every  day,  vote  it 
their  favorite  morning  program.  "Here's  real 
life"  many  of  them  write  in  appreciation. 


ftt 


*7u*te  in 

"MY  TRUE  STORY 

AMERICAN   BROADCASTING  STATIONS 


"Hereford  hog."  That  just  about 
exhausted   the   livestock. 

Doris  was  more  versatile.  "Red  ban- 
dana handkerchief." 

"Red  barn."  That  had  been  said.  I 
was  getting  rattled.  Joe  ruled  it  out, 
and  I   substituted   "red  truck." 

Doris   gasped,   "Red  strawberries." 

I  took  her  suggestion.  "Red  raspber- 
ries." It  was  positively  my  last  gasp. 
I  was  color  blind  and  color  dumb.  I 
couldn't  have  thought  of  even  such 
obvious  things  as  Mary  Jean's  lipstick 
or  a  red  sunset. 

But  that  did  it.  Doris  groped  for 
five  seconds.  The  horn  ended  the  con- 
test. I  mopped  my  brow,  looking 
through  the  audience  until  my  eyes 
found  Mary  Jean.  I  hoped  I'd  done 
well  enough  to  make  her  proud  of  the 
old  man. 

SHE  was  all  but  jumping  up  and  down. 
I,  however,  wasn't  so  sure  I  had  won. 
The  judges  huddled.    I  tried  to  com- 
pute the  score. 

At  last  the  M.  C.  announced,  "The 
Farm  Champion  is.  .  .  ." 

For  me,  his  pause  lasted  hours. 
".  .  .  is  Mac  McKerrow,  of  Pewaukee, 
Wisconsin." 

You  should  have  seen  the  loot.  Fif- 
teen one-gallon  cans  of  paint,  a  com- 
plete set  of  aluminum  cooking  uten- 
sils, a  vacuum  cleaner  and  attachments, 
and  a  home  freezer. 

It  was  quite  a  collection.  Prizes 
added  on  later  shows  have  put  me  years 
ahead  in  my  farming,  for  I  have  re- 
ceived such  things  as  a  ten  years'  sup- 
ply of  overalls,  more  paint,  nylons  for 
Mary  Jean,  23,343  live  Florida  bees, 
two  electric  water  heaters,  a  front  end 
loader  to  attach  to  my  tractor,  and  an 
automatic  ironer  for  the  house. 

A  contestant  works  for  it;  he  has 
to  know  more  than  his  own  name  to 
win,  but  when  he  earns  the  title  of 
Farm  Champion  of  the  Week,  he  has 
something  to  show. 

I  feel  like  a  good  provider  every  time 
!  I  see  Mary  Jean  running  the  family 
laundry  through  that  ironer  instead  of 
spending  hours  to  do  the  same  job  by 
hand,  and  when  she  gets  all  dressed  up, 
ready  to  go  out,  I  take  a  look  at  her 
nicely-filled  nylons  and  think,  "Mac, 
my  lad,  you  talked  for  those  socks." 

The  material  things,  and  their  dollar 

'  value,   however,  don't  begin  to  meas- 

I  ure  the  benefits  I  have  gained.     Most 

important,   it   keeps   me   from   getting 

root-bound  on  my  own  land. 

That   is   easy   to   do   when   you're   a 
farmer,  for  although  there's  drama  in 
;  farming,  it's  the  slow-paced  drama  of 
!  the  seasons.     Spring  planting,  summer 
labor,  fall  harvest   and   winter   enjoy- 
ment     of      accomplishment  —  youthful 
learning,  mature  endeavor  and  then  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  the   cycle  repeated 
I  again  with  your  children. 

You    need    to    concentrate    a    cross 
I  section  of  this  into  a  brief  radio  pro- 
gram to  have  the  drama  emerge  sharply 
!  defined.     Then  city  people  as  well  as 
I  farmers  feel  it.     Evidence  of  this  is  the 
mail.      Thousands    of    letters,    bearing 
city  addresses,  reach  the  Cowan  office 
each    week    suggesting    questions    for 
,  R.F.D.  America. 

My  grandfather,  who  settled  our  land 
in  1874,  and  my  father,  who  has  achieved 
an  international  reputation  for  breed- 
ing Shropshire  sheep,  also  realized  the 
importance  of  show  competition  in  a 
j  farmer's  life.  For  more  than  half  a 
I  century,  they  have  exhibited  our  sheep 
and  cattle. 

They  got  me  started  early.    Compet- 
ing for  the  title  of  Farm  Champion  of 
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POULTICE 


76 


years,  but  it's  still  a  lifetime — which 
has  been  punctuated  by  shows. 

I  went  into  my  first  one  at  the  age 
of  fifteen.  My  father  had  promised  "'if 
I  was  a  good  boy,"  I  would  be  permit- 
ted, when  fall  came,  to  take  our  show 
flock  to  the  Ohio  and  Michigan  state 
fairs. 

He  sent  me  out  alone.  The  lambs 
and  I  traveled  in  the  same  freight  car. 
At  night,  I  huddled  up  among  them  to 
sleep,  and  in  the  morning  I  woke  up 
when  my  pets  started  nuzzling  me  with 
their  noses. 

I  WAS  a  frightened,  homesick  kid 
when  I  unloaded  them  at  strange  fair 
grounds  and  drove  them  into  an  exhibit 
barn.  In  the  excitement  of  the  show 
that  feeling  evaporated,  but  when  I 
came  home  with  blue  ribbons,  I  owned 
the  world. 

I've  won  many  such  prizes  since.  As 
a  high  school  freshman,  I  had  the  grand 
champion  Southdown  wether  lamb  at 
the  Wisconsin  Junior  Livestock  show, 
took  a  similar  prize  at  the  University 
of  Wisconsin's  "Little  International," 
won  stock  judging  contests  which  sent 
me  into  national  competitions.  Through 
them  all,  winning  has  brought  me  that 
same  lift  of  spirit. 

I  might  even  stretch  a  point  and  say 
I  won  my  wife  in  a  contest.  We  met 
at  a  state  convention  of  the  Young 
People's  Christian  Union.  She  was  on 
the  committee  which  nominated  me  for 
president.  I  won  the  election — and  the 
girl,  Mary  Jean  Beigel  of  West  Allis. 
We  were  married  April  22,  1945,  and 
now  have  a  boy,  Bruce  David,  three. 

Aside  from  the  personal  sense  of 
achievement  gained  from  winning  on 
R.F.D.  America,  there's  the  added  satis- 
faction of  contributing  toward  better 
understanding  between  farm  and  city. 

Radio,  as  much  as  good  roads,  ended 
the  day  of  the  "hick."  The  isolation  of 
farming,  which  in  Europe  grew  so 
intense  that  the  language  of  one  valley 
could  not  be  understood  in  the  settle- 
ment on  the  other  side  of  a  mountain 
ridge,  has  broken  down.  Farmers  today 
know  what  goes  on  in  cities. 

The  opposite,  however,  is  not  always 
true.  To  many  city  dwellers,  farming 
is  still  a  remote  occupation.  They  still 
see  it  in  terms  of  ox  carts  and  asafedita. 

R.F.D.  America  lowers  this  barrier. 
Radio  listeners,  rural  and  urban,  meet 
those  who  produce  the  food  the  world 
needs,  they  discover  scientific  farming 
is  in  practical,  everyday  use,  and  that 
the  men  and  women  who  work  at  it  are 
interesting  individuals  who  can  spice 
their  exhibition  of  knowledge  with 
quick  wit  and  pleasant  humor. 

There's  Ed  Bottcher  who  took  over 
as  Country  Question  Editor  when  the 
show  moved  to  NBC  and  Joe  Kelly 
found  he  could  not  quiz  Quiz  Kids  and 
farmers  at  the  same  time. 

Ed,  although  he  does  today  a  pro- 
fessional radio  performer's  job  on  a 
big  network  show,  is  as  much  of  a  dirt 
farmer  as  his  great  grandfather  who 
settled  the  land  in  Cullman  County, 
Alabama. 

Entering  Alabama  Polytechnic  In- 
stitute at  fifteen,  he  took  his  Bachelor 
of  Science  degree  in  Agriculture.  Work- 
ing for  the  Bureau  of  Entomology,  he 
helped  farmers  fight  boll  worms,  later 
became  a  county  agent,  and  was  coun- 
ty supervisor  for  the  Farm  Security 
Administration. 

Like  me,  Ed  loves  a  challenge.  He 
first  came  to  R.F.D.  America  as  one  of 
three  contestants  from  Alabama,  and 
emerged  from  his  first  contest  as  runner 
up  to  the  title  of  Champion  Farmer  of 
the  Week. 


He  got  his  second  chance  when  the 
winner,  a  woman  from  Georgia,  an- 
nounced she  couldn't  return.  She  was 
"expecting"  and  her  doctor  would  not 
allow  her  to  travel. 

The  defeat  had  sharpened  his  wits. 
During  the  intervening  week,  he 
crammed  like  a  freshman  studying  for 
his  first  exam.  He  was  not  going  to  get 
licked  again. 

He  wasn't,  either.  He  set  an  all-time 
record  by  winning  eight  times  in  suc- 
cession. His  prizes  added  $600  to  his 
income  tax,  and  he  retired  undefeated 
when  he  topped  professional  radio  per- 
formers in  the  audition  for  Country 
Question  Editor. 

As  a  five-day  farmer,  he  now  has  less 
time  to  grab  a  fly  rod  and  fish  for  the 
blue  gills  and  large-mouth  bass  in  his 
one-acre  pond,  for  he  has  one  of  the 
longest  commutation  trips  on  record. 
Each  week  he  travels  1,342  miles  to 
spend  his  Saturdays  and  Sundays  in 
Chicago.  By  this  time  he  knows  every 
pilot,  stewardess  and  Pullman  conductor 
en  route,  and  he  also  has  a  large  num- 
ber of  farmer  friends  from  every  state 
in  the  union. 

In  contrast  to  Ed,  there's  Wayne 
Hardison  of  Carters  Creek,  Tennessee. 
Wayne  is  a  Farm  Bureau  leader,  and 
vitally  interested  in  PTA  and  church 
work.  Until  R.F.D.  America  summoned 
him  to  Chicago,  he  had  never  been  out- 
side his  state. 

He  was  so  excited  when  the  telegram 
arrived  that  he  climbed  on  a  horse, 
raced  to  tell  a  neighbor,  then  forgot  the 
horse  and  walked  home.  His  wife  put 
a  fruit  cake  in  the  oven  to  warm  and 
let  it  burn  to  a  crisp.  Later,  he  asked 
when  dinner  would  be  served  and  had 
to  be  told  he  had  already  eaten  it. 

Hardison  told  the  R.F.D.  America 
staff,  "I've  worked  hard  all  my  life.  This 
is  the  first  thing  I  didn't  have  to  earn  by 
the  sweat  of  my  brow  and  the  toil  of 
my  hands.  It's  the  most  wonderful 
event  that  ever  occurred  to  me." 

Mrs.  Gertie  Moody  gave  listeners  a 
new  insight  into  a  woman's  work.  She 
has  the  man-sized  job  of  managing  an 
80,000  acre  property  belonging  to  Delta 
Securities  Company.  In  charge  of  graz- 
ing lands,  farm  tenants,  trapping,  hunt- 
ing, camp  site  leases,  oil  leases,  she  is 
equally  at  home  on  a  horse,  driving  a 
truck,  rounding  up  cattle,  behind  her 
desk  in  the  office,  or  solving  school 
problems  with  her  local  PTA. 

DICK  Heckendorf  of  Littleton,  Color- 
ado, is  another  one  whom  R.F.D. 
America  sent  back  to  his  books.  He  won 
his  title  and  held  it  through  five  shows 
until  Clyde  Rowe  of  Chandler,  Arizona, 
took  it  away  from  him. 

Heckendorf  compensated  by  staging 
his  own  version  of  R.F.D.  America  for 
the  4-H  Clubs  in  his  own  community.  If 
the  show  could  stimulate  farmers  on  a 
national  scale,  he  reasoned,  it  could  be 
equally  exciting  for  the  kids  in  his 
neighborhood. 

Robert  Sawyer  of  Leland,  Illinois, 
one  of  my  coming  opponents  for  the 
"Oscar,"  is  going  to  be  a  tough  man. 

He  had  years  of  coping  with  questions 
when  he  taught  vocational  agriculture, 
and  he  now  does  a  good  job  of  putting 
those  theories  into  practice  on  his  own 
farm. 

We'll  have  two  other  competitors, 
who,  through  run-off  contests,  earn 
their  right  to  compete  for  the  title  of 
Farm  Champion  of  the  Year.  We  don't 
yet  know  their  names  (as  this  is  writ- 
ten) but  we  already  are  certain  of  one 
thing — to  go  into  that  final  contest,  they 
will  have  to  be  good  farmers,  good 
citizens  and  good  talkers. 


Ric-Rac 
Flatterer 

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trimming.'  its  youthful 
round  neckline,  9  more 
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pocket.  Expensive  to 
make,  but  so  becom- 
ing  to   you.    Fresh 
white  dots  on  Blue, 
Wine  or  Green  . . . 
Princess  panel 
front;  ties  in  Jhe 
back. 

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Striped  Darling 


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in  carefully  matched  stripes  with  zipper  and  wide  swing 
skirt.  Keyhole  neckline  with  perky  tie,  trim  set-in  waist- 
band.  Florida   Fashion's   exclusive   pattern   of  daisies 
and  stripes  .  . .  beautiful  enough  to  wear  everywhere. 

Colors:  GREEN,  BLUE,  PINK  Only 

Siies:  12,  14,  16,  18,  20  $077 


Nowhere  in  the  world, 
but  from  Florida  Fash- 
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Any  Florida  Fashions  cus- 
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doing  a  business  in  mil- 
lions, making  only  penny 
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you  and  your  pocketbook. 

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'esse 


fwtiaa  4ta>wwiiA,  owe . 


Please  send  me 

dresses  at  $2.77  (2  for  $5.50) 
plus  postage  and  C.O.D. 
charges.  I  may  return  pur- 
chase within  ten  days  if  not 
satisfied.  (You  save  C.O.D. 
fee  by  enclosing  purchase 
price  plus  20c  postage;  same 
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FLORIDA  FASHIONS, 

nc,  Sanford  92 

Florida 

IB) 

p, 

Quantity 

Size 

1  si  Color 
Choice 

2nd  Color 

Fill  in  Friie 

Ric-Rac 

Flatterer 

Striped 

Darling' 

Jiffv 

Coal 

F.-Z 
Whirl 

Total 

Home 

Address  

City  and  State  . 


78 


Toilet  Water  1.25,  2.00 
Sachet  1.25— Dusting  Powder  1.50 
Perfume  1.25,  4.50— Talcum  .75 
Bath  Crystals  1.75 


A  creation  of  OU1  South  Perfumers,  Fiftli  Avenue,  New  York 


Come,  Ye  Thankful 

(Continued  from  page  61) 

20-22  minutes  a  pound.  For  an  18  to 
24  pound  bird,  allow  18-20  minutes  a 
pound. 

SAVORY  BREAD  STUFFING 

10  cups   soft   bread  I    teaspoon 

crumbs,    packed  thyme 

2  cups  finely  2   medium  onions, 

chopped   celery  minced 
2   teaspoons  salt                  I  'A   cups  oil   or 

!/2   teaspoon    pepper  melted   margarine 

I    tablespoon  or  shortening 
poultry    seasoning 

Combine  all  ingredients  except  oil. 
Add  oil  slowly.  Toss  together  lightly 
with  a  fork  until  thoroughly  blended. 
Makes  10  cups  stuffing.  (Allow  ap- 
proximately 1  cup  stuffing  per  pound.) 
Try  one  of  these  changes  (but  remem- 
ber there  are  16  tablespoons  in  a  cup) : 
For  each  cup  of  bread  used,  add  IV2 
tablespoons  chopped  dill  pickle;  or  Va 
cup  mashed  sweet  potato  plus  1  table- 
spoon fried  sausage  meat;  or  2  table- 
spoons chopped  seeded  raisins. 

RICH    MINCE   PIE 


Vi 

lemon 

Va 

cup  sugar 

Vl 

cup  suet 

Va 

cup   whole   raisins 

C/4    pound) 

V2 

cup  molasses 

Va 

cups   raisins 

y? 

teaspoon    salt 

1 

beef    bouillon 

V2 

teaspoon 

cube 

cinnamon 

Vl 

cup    boiling 

Va 

teaspoon    allspice 

water 

Va 

teaspoon    ground 

2 

apples,     unpeeled 

cloves 

cored    and 

1 

recipe   pastry 

chopped 

(2   cups  flour) 

Put  lemon,  suet  and  1*4  cups  raisins 
through  food  grinder.  Dissolve  bouillon 
cube  in  boiling  water.  Combine  all#  in- 
gredients except  pastry,  in  a  saucepan. 
Heat  to  boiling  and  simmer  for  30  min- 
utes, stir  occasionally.  Roll  out  half  the 
pastry  to  fit  an  8-inch  pie  pan.  Cool 
filling  and  pour  into  unbaked  pastry 
shell.  Roll  out  remaining  pastry.  Make 
a  lattice  or  plain  top.  Seal  edges  well. 
Bake  in  a  very  hot  oven  (450°  F. )  for 
10  minutes.  Reduce  heat  to  350°  F. 
and  continue  baking  for  30  to  40  min- 
utes.    Makes  an  8-inch  pie. 

PUMPKIN  CHIFFON  PIE 


2  teaspoons 
cinnamon 
'/j   teaspoon   ginger 
Va   teaspoon    allspice 
'/2   teaspoon    salt 
2  tablespoons  sugar 
2   tablespoons 
grated    orange 
rind 
'/2   cup   heavy   cream 


'/2    recipe   pastry 
( I   cup  flour) 
I    envelope   plain 
gelatin 
Va   cuP   cold   water 
l'/2    cups   mashed 

pumpkin    (canned 
or    fresh) 
I    cup    brown    sugar 
3   eggs,    separated 

Roll  out  pastry  to  fit  9-inch  pie  pan. 
Shape  to  fit.  Bake  in  a  hot  oven  (450° 
F.)  for  12  to  15  minutes.  Cool.  Add 
gelatin  to  cold  water  and  allow  to  stand 
a  few  minutes.  Place  in  top  of  double 
boiler  with  pumpkin,  brown  sugar, 
egg  yolks,  cinnamon,  ginger,  allspice 
and  salt.  Cook,  stirring  constantly,  over 
hot  water  until  slightly  thickened  and 
mixture  coats  a  spoon.  Stir  constantly. 
Chill  until  mixture  begins  to  thicken. 
Beat  egg  white  until  it  stands  in  soft 
peaks.  Gradually  beat  in  remaining 
sugar.  Gently  fold  into  cooled  pumpkin 
mixture  and  orange  rind.  Whip  cream 
and  fold  into  pumpkin  and  egg  white 
mixture.  Pour  into  baked  shell  and 
chill.  Garnish  with  whipped  cream  or 
sprinkle  with  coconut,  if  desired.  Makes 
one  9-inch  pie. 


My  Boss,  Drew  Pearson 

(Continued  from  page  29) 


how  my  boss's  twenty-four-hours-a- 
day  job  creeps  even  into  his  barnyard. 
It's  the  work-day  of  his  that  alone  un- 
nerves me  about  my  job  as  his  assistant. 
Many's  the  morning  I've  rolled  over 
about  6:30  A.M.  for  another  two  hours 
of  sleep — when  my  telephone  rings. 
"Hello,  Dave,"  says  Drew's  cheerful 
voice.  "Hurry  over  here— we've  got 
work  to  do!"  ^ 

This  unearthly  hour  for  starting  the 
day's  work  means  nothing  to  Drew 
Pearson  because  he  keeps  farmers 
hours— although  he  lives  during  the 
week  in  a  dignified  house  in  Washing- 
ton, D.  C.  This  house  is  really  three  red 
brick  houses  locked  together;  and  one 
wing  (or  house)  is  his  office.  This 
makes  it  easy  for  Drew  to  roll  out  of 
bed  and  right  to  the  job.  It  makes  it 
tough  for  me  and  his  five  secretaries. 
Let  me  give  you  an  idea  of  his  day: 

He's  up  at  six  o'clock,  sipping  orange 
juice  and  writing  the  first  draft  of 
his  column,  "Washington  Merry-Go- 
Round."  At  7:45  precisely,  he  shaves 
while  he  listens  to  the  news  broadcast 
on  the  portable  radio  in  his  bathroom. 
At  8:00  precisely  he  eats  breakfast — 
two  soft  boiled  eggs,  bacon,  milk,  and 
one  cup  of  coffee— while  he  bends  his 
ear  to  the  radio  again,  this  time  listen- 
ing to  his  brother  Leon  who  broadcasts 
from  Paris  for  NBC.  At  8:45  he's  in 
what  I  call  his  Spartan  chair — it's  a 
wooden  job  with  an  agonizing  back  to 
it — and  he's  hard  at  work  answering 
his  avalanche  of  mail  with  the  aid  of 
all  his  secretaries.  This  goes  on  until 
12:30  P.M.  Meanwhile,  three  tele- 
phones are  ringing  steadily  on  his  desk. 
He  answers  all  of  them  personally. 

"I  live  in  deadly  terror  that  some  day 
I'll  miss  a  hot  news  story  by  not  an- 
swering some  phone  call,"  he's  told  me 
on  more  than  one  occasion — which  is 
one  reason  that  his  telephone  number 
is  in  the  Washington  phone  book.  Any- 
one with  a  nickel  can  call  him.  And 
sometimes  I  think  that  everyone  with  a 
nickel  does  just  that.  But  I'll  admit 
that  often  it's  those  calls — from  stran- 
gers— that  have  tipped  him  off  to  some 
of  his  biggest  news  scoops. 
i 

TAKE  the  war  profits  scandal  that 
Congressman  Andrew  J.  May  and  the 
infamous  Garsson  brothers  were  in — 
iDrew  got  the  tipoff  from  a  strange 
telephone  call.    But  let  him  tell  it: 

"I'd  been  broadcasting  one  night 
about  Congressman  May's  stand  against 
termination  pay  for  veterans,"  says  he, 
"when  the  telephone  rang  right  there 
in  the  radio  station  at  the  end  of  my 
broadcast.  It  was  a  veteran  who'd  been 
listening  to  me.  He  told  me  that  his 
wife  had  had  a  secretarial  position 
where  she'd  learned  about  the  scandal- 
ous operations  of  the  Garssons  and 
May,  and  he  advised  me  to  look  into 
;  it.  I  did — and  prosecution  for  the 
r  crooks  was  the  result."  He  got  his 
tip  about  Senator  Thomas  of  Okla- 
homa's speculation  in  the  cotton  mar- 
ket the  same  way — and  long  before 
Stassen  pointed  a  finger  at  the  Wash- 
ington speculators.  An  anonymous 
phone  call  from  a  woman  came  in  about 
Thomas.  My  boss  investigated,  and  a 
series  of  columns  resulted. 

For  that  matter,  as  this  goes  to  press 
my  boss  is  doing  a  Dick  Tracy  on  a 
phone  call  that  came  in  from  Michigan 
the  other  day.  The  guy  on  the  other 
end  was  an  ex-convict,  and  he  gave 
Drew  some  hot  tips  on  the  murder  of 


Senator  Hooper — which  Drew  is  work- 
ing on  right  now. 

But  back  to  Drew's  work-day.  At 
12:30  he  rushes  off  to  lunch.  It 
is  always  lunch  at  the  Mayflower 
Hotel,  and  always  at  his  own  table  in  the 
corner.  I  am  proud  to  announce  that 
my  boss  is  not  a  table-hopping  colum- 
nist.   No,  everyone  comes  to  him. 

HE  usually  lunches  with  one  of  his 
close  friends,  Senator  Sam  Rayburn, 
Senator  Ives,  Attorney-General  Clark, 
Harold  Ickes,  or  Senator  Barkley.  But 
most  of  his  friends  don't  give  him  news 
stories — these  come  from  other  people 
dining  in  the  Mayflower,  who  come  up 
to  tip  him  off  on  something  interesting. 
To  him  the  best  thing  about  lunch  is 
dessert — it's  the  one  time  in  the  day 
when  he  stops  being  a  Spartan  and 
really  lets  himself  go.  He  always  has 
something  horrifying  for  dessert,  like 
Baked  Alaska,  or  Crepes  Suzette. 

By  2:30  in  the  afternoon  he  hurries 
back  to  tus  office,  shuts  off  the  tele- 
phones, opens  up  his  thirty-year-old 
Smith  portable  typewriter  and  goes  to 
work  polishing  his  column  and  adding 
news  to  it.  The  column  goes  on  the  tele- 
type at  4  P.M.  sharp.  After  that,  my 
boss  merely  works  another  hour  on  his 
mail,  and  then  tours  various  govern- 
ment offices  to  pick  up  more  news. 
When  dinner  is  over,  he  is  often  back 
at  his  desk  to  answer  still  more  mail. 

Dinner  for  Drew  means  that  he  sits 
down  with  his  attractive  blonde  wife 
Luvie,  and  with  her  son  by  a  former 
marriage,  who  is  a  16 -year-old  named 
Tyler  Abell.  Drew's  daughter  Ellen, 
also  by  a  former  marriage,  moved  out 
recently  when  she  married  George 
Arnold — the  son,  if  you  recall,  of  the 
famous  trust-busting  Thurman  Arnold. 
Once  a  week  regularly  the  Pearsons  en- 
tertain at  a  dinner  party. 

It's  true  that  Drew  is  a  Quaker,  not 
only  in  his  religion  but  in  his  heart.  In 
fact,  he  often  thinks  like  a  Quaker 
relief  worker — which,  indeed,  he  once 
was.  But  let  me  give  you  a  quick 
montage  of  his  life — and  then  I'll  prove 
to  you  that  Quaker  blood  is  truly  boil- 
ing in  his  veins. 

My  boss  was  born  fifty-one  years  ago 
in  Evanston,  Illinois.  He  graduated  from 
Swarthmore  College,  where  his  dad 
was  a  professor,  in  1919 — Phi  Beta 
Kappa,  by  the  way.  Right  out  of  college 
he  went  overseas  as  a  Quaker  relief 
worker,  to  Yugoslavia.  There  he  stayed 
for  two  years,  rebuilding  a  destroyed 
Yugoslavian  village  with  the  help  of  its 
citizens — which  village  has  since  been 
named  Pearsonovits  in  his  honor. 

He  came  docilely  home  to  teach  eco- 
nomic geography  at  the  University  of 
Pennsylvania.  But  a  year  later  he  dis- 
covered he  had  $700  in  the  bank,  and 
he  decided  to  travel  once  more.  He 
went  all  through  China,  Japan,  Aus- 
tralia, New  Zealand — and  then  sailed 
for  Europe.  While  he  was  on  this  trip 
he  had  a  thousand  adventures,  includ- 
ing running  out  of  money  in  Australia 
and  shipping  as  a  seaman.  But  he  also 
interviewed  the  twelve  leading  men  of 
the  world  for  a  news  syndicate — two 
of  whom  were  Mussolini  and  Mahatma 
Gandhi — and  he  talked  many  of  the 
newspapers  of  Australia,  New  Zealand, 
India  and  South  Africa  into  hiring  him 
as  their  American  correspondent  for 
the  next  ten  years!  He  came  triumph- 
antly home  with  $734 — exactly  $34 
more  than  he'd  started  out  with! 


If  YOU  want  to  enjoy  that 

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J  payment    is   only    my    evidence    of    good    faith    and    is 

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Reveals  Sweetheart's  Name  ; 

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That  trip  set  the  pace  for  the  next 
ten  years  of  his  life.  Reporting  for 
various  newspapers,  he  was  all  over 
the  world  wherever  something  was 
happening  until  1932.  Then  his  friends 
were  afraid  he'd  committed  literary- 
suicide. 

What  he  did  was  this:  stepping  out 
of  his  role  as  foreign  correspondent, 
he  wrote  a  book  (anonymously)  called 
Washington  Merry -Go -Round  with 
Robert  S.  Allen.  It  truly  reported  the 
inside  doings  of  Washington  big  shots; 
and  while  writing  it,  Pearson  worked 
for  the  Washington  bureau  of  the  Bal- 
timore Sun  and  Allen  worked  for  the 
Christian  Science  Monitor.  Two  months 
after  publication  of  the  book,  when  it 
was  revealed  that  they  had  authored 
it,  both  men  were  promptly  fired.  They 
spent  a  hungry  year.  Then  they  col- 
laborated on  a  political  column  called 
"Washington  Merry-Go-Round."  At 
first,  only  six  newspapers  signed  up  for 
it.  Now,  and  with  Pearson  writing  it 
alone,  over  six  hundred  newspapers 
print  it.  On  top  of  that.  Drew  has  an 
audience  of  twelve  million  people  for 
his  radio  show  on  Sunday  nights — and 
he  makes  around  $400,000  %  year. 
Somewhere  here,  I'm  sure  there's  a 
moral! 

And  that  word  moral  brings  me  back 
to  what  I  was  about  to  point  out  a 
while  back:  that  my  boss  is  still  a 
Quaker  relief  worker  at  heart.  I  will 
never  forget  one  hot  Spring  day  last 
year.  Drew  and  I  were  in  New  York, 
riding  in  a  taxi  toward  a  United  Na- 
tions meeting  at  Lake  Success.  I  re- 
member the  date  too  well,  because  it 
was  the  last  day  of  the  World  Series, 
with  the  Yanks  and  Dodgers  tied  at 
three  all.  I  complained,  "Drew,  why  do 
we  have  to  do  all  these  light  pastimes 
when  we  could  be  doing  something 
serious — like  going  to  the  ball  game?" 

He  was  looking  through  some  papers 
in  his  briefcase  as  the  taxi  moved  to- 
ward the  U.N.,  and  I  saw  that  they 
were  reports  on  hunger  in  Europe.  He 
said  "Forget  the  ball  game.  Dave — 
when  I  see  these  reports,  I  get  furious 
at  the  slow  way  Congress  is  making  up 
its  mind  to  feed  these  people."  He 
thought  a  minute.  I  saw  the  beginning 
of  what  I  call  a  Quaker  Relief  Worker 
gleam  in  his  eye.  "Why  couldn't  the 
American  people  get  together  and  help 
feed  Europe  themselves?"  he  said. 

"UNRRA  already  thought  of  that.  But 
it  cost  so  much  money  to  collect  the 
food,  they  decided  it  was  cheaper  to 
buy  it,"  I  contributed. 

Drew  brushed  that  off  as  if  it  were 
a  gnat.  "We  could  start  a  train  of  our 
own — we  could  begin  it  on  the  West 
Coast  and  have  it  go  East,  picking  up 
food  all  the  way.  A  friendship  train  .  .  ." 
He  broke  off  sharply,  and  then  yelled, 
"By  God,  that's  it — the  Friendship 
Train!" 

And  that,  my  friends,  was  how  the 
Friendship  Train  really  got  started — 
right  in  my  boss's  brain  in  a  taxi  out- 
side of  New  York. 

Drew  flew  to  Europe  to  ride  the  train 
through  France  and  Italy. 

In  Genoa,  Italy,  he  started  something 
else  that  swept  America — over  short- 
wave, he  broadcast  to  the  U.S.  suggest- 
ing that  Americans  write  letters  to 
Italian  friends  and  relatives  urging 
them  to  back  democracy  in  the  coming 
elections.  And  what  happened?  The 
New  York  postmaster  reported  that 
letters  were  finally  going  over  to  Italy 
at  the  rate  of  one  million  a  week! 

Yes,  I  think  you  see  now  what  I  mean 
about  my  boss's  Quaker  relief  worker 
streak.  .  .  .  but  also,  he  never  loses  his 


sense  of  humor.  Example:  he  drives  a 
dark  green  Buick,  vintage  1940.  His 
wife,  however,  darts  around  Washing- 
ton in  a  baby  green  1948  Kaiser.  How 
did  she  get  this  snappy  car?  Well,  it 
seems  her  husband  made  a  bet  with 
Henry  J.  Kaiser  while  they  were  both 
aboard  that  Friendship  Train  heading 
for  New  York.  Kaiser  was  the  con- 
ductor of  the  New  York  Central  sec- 
tion of  the  train,  and  Drew  was  con- 
ductor of  the  Pennsylvania  section. 

In  Chicago,  where  the  huge  train 
was  divided  into  sections,  Drew  made 
the  bet.  "Bet  you  my  section  comes 
into  New  York  with  more  cars  of  food 
than  yours,"  said  he. 

"Bet  you  mine  has  more  carloads," 
said  Kaiser.  When  they  came  into  New 
York,  Drew's  train  hauled  117  cars  to 
Kaiser's  109.  So  Drew  won  a  brand-new 
Kaiser  automobile. 

"If  Kaiser  had  won,  I  was  going  to 
give  him  a  Buick!"  grins  my  boss. 

His  latest  Quaker  relief  worker  idea 
has  been  little  aired  in  America.  It  was 
concerned  with  Italy.  Right  after  their 
election  last  April,  he  began  worrying, 
"Now  I  suppose  Italy  will  think  we 
Americans  have  lost  interest  in  them, 
unless  we  can  show  them  we  haven't." 
With  which  remark  he  got  a  solution 
to  the  problem.  On  short-wave  radio, 
he  broadcast  a  contest  to  Italians  in 
Italy.  (This  was,  by  the  way,  the  only 
short-wave  contest  in  history.)  He 
asked  Italians  to  write  essays  on  "How 
to  Make  Democracy  Live." 

H/ELL,  15,000  essays  poured  in  from 
Italy  as  a  result  of  the  contest — in 
Italian,  of  course;  so  Drew  got  his 
friend  Generoso  Pope,  publisher  of  the 
largest  Italian  newspaper  in  the  U.S., 
to  translate  the  letters.  Then  he  and  a 
picked  committee  chose  the  winners. 
At  a  dinner  this  last  July  7th  at  the 
Waldorf-Astoria  Hotel  in  New  York 
City  the  prizes  were  announced — again 
by  short-wave — to  the  winners  in  Italy. 
If  you  ask  me,  I  think  the  prizes  were 
ones  Italians  (or  Americans!)  would 
love:  one  tractor;  250  wristwatches; 
1,200  men's  and  women's  hats;  100  men's 
suits;  100  pairs  of  shoes;  100  shirts. 

Yes,  my  boss  sure  has  a  Quaker 
streak!  But  he's  also  got  a  farmer's 
streak.  .  .  .  though  sometimes  I  wonder 
why  he  has  that  farm,  because  he  only 
gets  out  to  it  Saturdays.  Sunday  is  like 
any  weekday  to  him;  he  works  all  day 
long  on  his  column  and  his  broadcast. 
But  Saturday  he  and  Luvie  bustle  out 
to  Gaithesburg,  Maryland,  to  the  170- 
acre  Pearson  farm. 

"Why  do  I  have  two  pools,  when 
most  people  have  one?"  says  my  boss. 
"Well,  it's  because  I'm  a  bug  on  stop- 
ping soil  erosion.  When  I  was  a  young 
fellow  in  China  I  saw  what  devastation 
erosion  had  brought  to  China;  and  when 
I  taught  economic  geography  I  did  a 
lot  of  research  on  erosion.  ...  so 
once  I  saw  signs  of  it  on  my  farm, 
I  had  two  pools  dug  to  catch  the 
drainage  water  before  it  could  do  any 
harm." 

I  think  that  gives  you  a  pretty  clear 
picture  of  all  the  Drew  Pearsons  that 
are  combined  in  the  one  man.  There's 
Drew  the  Quaker  relief  worker.  Then 
there's  Drew  the  bloodhound,  who 
exposed  Senator  Bilbo's  dream-house 
and  war  contract  scandals,  the  Louisi- 
ana State  Government  scandals  that 
wound  up  imprisoning  Governor  Rich- 
ard K.  Leche  and  his  gang — and  a  hun- 
dred other  big  news  stories.  Then 
there's  Drew  the  columnist,  the  broad- 
caster, the  farmer,  and  the  family  man. 
And  I  work  for  them  all! 


Dear  Editor 

(Continued  from  page  25) 

after  the  first  two  nights  I  played  tele- 
vision host.  She  said  "It's  your  stag 
party.    I'm.  going  out." 

Domestic  tranquillity  won  out,  how- 
ever, when  she  herself  took  an  interest 
in  sporting  events.  When  she  took 
to  wrestling  I  knew  that  television  had 
won  a  rare  convert. 

I  must  concede  that  all  entertain- 
ment over  my  home  receiver  is  not  tops 
by  any  means.  Dramatic  technique  has 
not  shown  any  remarkable  advances.  I 
remember  a  performance  of  "Winter- 
set"  I  witnessed  over  a  friend's  set  some 
years  back  as  being  superior — in  my 
mind — to  many  of  the  plays  I  see  today. 

We  like  movies — even  the  old  films 
and  foreign  productions.  The  reels 
are  not  top-drawer  entertainment  but 
I've  always  been  a  lover  of  Grade  Bs. 

I  am  certain  the  movie  theaters  will 
never  be  put  out  of  business  by  tele- 
vision. My  teen-age  son  still  prefers 
seeing  movies  in  a  theater  with  his  best 
date.    And  I  think  I  understand  it. 

It's  the  things  that  go  along  with  tele- 
vision that  get  my  goat.  Like  the  tele- 
phone call  that  comes  in  the  midst  of 
dramatic  action. 

Among  my  pet  peeves,  the  one  that 
irritates  me  most  is  the  prolonged  use 
of  a  title  slide  that  fills  the  screen  until 
a  program  actually  begins.  I  think  that 
every  program  should  actually  get  un- 
der way  at  the  precise  scheduled  mo- 
ment. I'm  also  annoyed  when  a  pro- 
gram is  blacked  out  without  any  ac- 
companying announcement  as  to  why 
the  cut  was  made.  Another  nuisance — 
not  a  fault  of  the  broadcasters — is  the 
constant  mugging  of  persons  seated  in 
pick-up  range  of  the  television  cameras 
at  sports  and  news  events. 

Guests  at  my  home  exasperate  me  no 
end  when  they  insist  on  toying  with  the 
dials  during  a  program.  Just  turning 
knobs  for  the  sake  of  seeing  what  will 
happen  is  a  pesky  pastime. 

During  afternoon  sports  events,  I 
think  television  keeps  my  oldest  boy 
indoors  too  much.  I  got  so  concerned 
about  this  that  I  blew  him  to  two  tick- 
ets to  a  football  game  because  I  wanted 
him  to  get  some  fresh  air. 

Comedy  can  stand  improvement — 
particularly  in  the  use  of  bigger  names. 
Quizzes  are  usually  more  amusing  than 
the  radio  variety. 

The  how-to-do-it  features  click  with 
us  in  a  big  way.  I've  learned  quite  a 
bit  about  home  handicraft  and  have 
even  started  amateur  drawing  as  a  re- 
sult of  peeking-in  on  instruction  fea- 
tures. All  of  which  augurs  well  for  the 
future  of  television  as  a  mass  educa- 
tional medium,  I  guess. 

I've  taken  quite  an  interest  in  all 
television  news.  I  feel  that  my  $435  in- 
vestment entitles  me  to  it. 

Television  has  done  a  swell  job  in 
filming  distant  news  events  and  rush- 
ing them  to  the  transmitter  for  tele- 
casting. But  there's  much  more  fun  in 
seeing  an  event  while  it  is  happening. 
I'd  rather  take  my  news  "instanta- 
neous" than  by  delayed  film. 

We  take  tremendous  interest  in  po- 
litical talks.  There's  something  to  see- 
ing and  hearing  a  speaker  that  shows 
him  in  a  true  light.  I'm  sure  that  tele- 
vision was  an  important  vote-getting 
device  in  this  year's  campaigning. 

And,  speaking  of  votes,  mine  is  for 
bigger  and  better  television!  In  every 
home  —  above  all,  the  landlord's  — 
Anonymous. 


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Come  and  Visit  Ed  Gardner 


(Continued  from  page  33) 


a  long,  dark  moment.  "Play  with  me!" 

"In  a  moment,  darling,"  his  mother 
said.  "Stevie  doesn't  feel  well.  He  has 
a  stomach  ache." 

At  this  Eddie  bellowed.  He  had  a 
stomach  ache  too.  Such  a  stomach  ache. 
His  mother  should  rock  him! 

It  went  on  like  that  all  day.  If  the 
baby  cried — and  he  cried  a  lot,  "prob- 
ably because  I  was  tense  and  he  knew 
it,"  Simone  admits — Eddie  stumbled 
over  nothing  and  scratched  his  knee, 
and  had  to  have  Bandaid  service  im- 
mediately. If  the  baby  required  chang- 
ing, Eddie  suddenly  developed  button- 
ing trouble  of  his  own. 

"And  I  was  all  alone,"  Simone  re- 
minds Ed. 

"All  this  hassle  at  home,"  Ed  marvels 
at  this,  "and  me  away,  having  all  that 
fun  writing  jokes." 

"There  was  nothing  funny  here,"  Si- 
mone responds  with  some  pique.  "No 
laughs  at  all." 

By  the  time  Ed  got  home  from  the 
office — it  had  been  a  long,  hard  day 
with  the  script — he  was  exhausted.  And 
so  pleased  to  find  the  house  quiet  .  .  . 
Stevie  had  fallen  asleep  at  last,  ex- 
hausted from  his  crying,  and  Eddie, 
with  mama  all  his  own  again,  had  gone 
to  his  own  bed  blissfully  content. 

"And  do  you  remember  what  was 
the  first  thing  you  said  to  me?"  Simone 
asks  him  accusingly. 

Ed  has  completely  forgotten. 

"You  said  you  were  so  tired,  you 
thought  you'd  have  a  nap!" 

Worn-out  Daddy  slept  on  the  sofa  in 
the  study  from  7:30  until  10:30. 

"Right  through  dinner,"  Simone  says, 
with  some  satisfaction. 

Simone  managed  to  stay  upright 
through  dinner,  through  the  baby's 
waking  and  crying  and  feeding  and 
sleeping  again,  through  calls  from  Ed- 
die for  drinks  of  water,  a  toy  to  sleep 
with,  another  hug  and  kiss  from  mama. 

"I  tottered  downstairs,"  she  reports. 
"And  there  was  that  man  stretched  out, 
smiling  in  his  sleep,  completely  dead 
to  the  world. 

"I  was  so  furious,"  she  says,  "that  I 
...  I  woke  him  up!" 

It  was  only  the  first  of  these  two-are- 
not-as-easy-as-one  days,  so  they  could 
still  laugh. 

"So,"  Ed  says,  "I  take  it  back.  It 
isn't  a  cinch.  But  you  have  to  admit 
that  some  days  we  have  fun." 

That  they  do. 


They  have  fun,  most  days,  with  their 
children.  The  day  after  Black  Thurs- 
day, Ed  went  shopping  and  bought  Ed- 
die a  pair  of  professional  boxing  gloves. 

"He  can  take  his  grudges  out  on  me, 
from  now  on,"  he  explained,  "instead  of 
his  mother." 

"Or  his  brother,"  says  Simone,  who 
really  read  that  book. 

While  he  was  at  the  store,  Ed  thought 
he  might  as  well  really  pacify  Eddie — 
and  he  fought  his  way  through  the 
women  shoppers  in  the  boys'  wear  de- 
partment. 

He  made  a  vague  and  frightened  ges- 
ture over  the  counters  of  shirts,  pants, 
overalls,  cowboy  suits  when  the  clerk 
came  up. 

"Give  me  a  hundred  dollars'  worth,  I 
said,"  he  reports,  "making  like  the  Big 
Spender." 

What  size?  the  clerk  wanted  to  know. 

Oh,  dear,  did  he  have  to  know  that? 

How  old  was  the  little  boy? 

Eddie  was  four,  but  big,  his  father  in- 
dicated, marking  Eddie's  approximate 
height  at  somewhere  around  his  mid- 
dle. 

The  salesgirl,  looking  doubtful,  said 
maybe  he  would  take  a  six,  and  bundled 
up  one  hundred  dollars'  worth  in  that 
size. 

"He  couldn't  get  his  toe  into  them," 
Ed  reports  proudly.  "Had  to  take  them 
all  back  and  get  eights.  The  kid's  train- 
ing to  be  a  tackle.  Already  weighs  six- 
ty pounds!" 

Eddie  indeed  is  an  all-round  athlete. 
Challenges  his  father  daily  to  hand- 
stands. Swims  like  a  fish  in  the  pretty 
pool  the  family  has  had  built  in  the 
backyard.  Is  merciless  with  Ed — who 
plays  brilliant  tennis — when  he  reports 
an  only  adequate  score  at  golf. 

Simone  has  adapted  herself  to  the 
rugged  standards  set  by  her  men-folk, 
plays  a  very  nice  game  of  tennis  her- 
self. 

Her  really  favorite  sport,  though,  Ed 
says  ruefully,  is  "going  to  Magnin's." 

His  weakness  is  equally  expensive, 
Simone  retorts  with  some  justice.  Ed 
recently  acquired  a  55-foot  Alden  yawl, 
the  Malabar  VII,  and  although  he  went 
on  his  first  half-dozen  cruises  equipped 
With  a  pocket  edition  of  How  to  Sail 
a  Boat,  he  already  is  a  seasoned  sailor. 

The  Malabar  VII  won  second  place 
this  season  in  the  annual  Ensenada  race, 
but  Ed  gives  all  credit  to  his  crew.  He 
is  the  only  Skipper  on  record,  he  will 


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rtell  you,  who  ever  won  a  race  in  a 
prone  position.  However,  he  keeps  a 
high  polish  on  the  silver  trophy  which 
resulted  from  the  victory. 

The  silver  cup,  and  a  huge  picture 
of  the  boat,  have  places  of  honor  in 
the  Gardners'  drawing  room — which, 
like  the  rest  of  the  white  brick  house 
the  family  moved  into  last  November, 
is  invitingly  informal. 

They  really  use  their  house,  live — 
and  hard — in  every  room,  according  to 
Simone  who  panned  the  colorful 
French  provincial  interiors  to  take  wear 
and  tear,  as  well  as  to  look  charming. 

"Could  be  the  house  is  too  small," 
Ed  admits,  now  that  the  new  baby  has 
come.  They  moved  from  a  14-room 
mansion  which  was  just  too  rich  for 
Archie's  blood,  and  found  the  pretty 
little  chalet  comfortable  until  the  ad- 
vent of  Stevie  and  nurse  crowded  them 
out  of  their  upstairs  suite  into  a  guest 
room,  with  only  one  bath,  on  the  first 
floor. 

ED,  who  is  spoiled — "I  like  my  own 
dressing  room" — began  at  this  point 
to  talk  about  adding  rooms,  remodeling. 

"He  even  brought  home  a  carpenter's 
kit,"  Simone  recalls.  "I  was  frightened. 
I  was  afraid  he'd  hurt  himself." 

But  she  needn't  have  worried.  He 
didn't  open  it.  He  soothes  his  claus- 
trophobic panics  by  gazing  across  their 
garden  and  pool  to  the  lush  greens  of 
the  California  Country  Club  which  ad- 
joins their  property  in  the  back. 

"Biggest  back  yard  in  California,"  Ed 
brags.  "Sixty-two  gardeners  all  work- 
ing for  me  for  free." 

A  cook  and  butler,  driver, — and  of 
course  the  nurse— work  for  Ed  on  an- 
other basis,  and  keep  busy. 

It  is  not  just  that  the  family  is  grow- 
ing. Things  keep  jumping  in  the  Gard- 
ner house.  Ed  and  Simone  have  a  vast 
circle  of  friends.  Friends  from  the 
yachting  world,  the  tennis  world,  Si- 
mone's  old  friends  from  France  and, 
surprisingly,  Ed's  grand  opera  and  high 
society  pals,  rub  elbows  around  the  bar 
or  Ed's  "saloon  piano"  at  the  Gardners' 
frequent,  happily  informal  parties. 

Lauritz  Melchior  and  Helen  Traubel, 
who  can  sing,  and  Ed,  who  can't,  make 
a  great  trio. 

The  Melchiors  love  to  tell  people  how 
they  found  the  Gardners'  house  the 
first  time  they  were  invited  to  dinner 
after  the  moving. 

They  had  no  address,  only  Ed's  fair- 
ly vague  directions.  He  hadn't  found 
out  yet  how  to  find  the  place  himself, 
he  told  them. 

It  was  moonlight,  and  Lauritz  drove 
very  slowly  through  the  curved  streets 
of  Bel  Air,  rejecting  house  after  house 
as  impossible. 

Suddenly  in  their  path  loomed  a  dog, 
and  Lauritz  slammed  on  the  brakes. 
The  dog  was  a  friendly  dog,  and  in  no 
hurry;  she  was  awkward  and  ugly  but 
loving;  her  ancestry  was  extremely 
conglomerate. 

"This  is  it,"  Melchior  boomed  to  his 
wife,  turning  without  hesitation  into 
the  driveway.  "Nobody  in  Bel  Air  but 
Ed  Gardner  would  have  a  dog  like 
that." 

Anything — that's  the  dog's  name — 
ambled  down  the  drive  after  them,  ar- 
rived to  welcome  them  just  as  Ed 
opened  the  front  door. 

"Come  in,"  he  shouted.  "Simone  is 
in  the  kitchen  supervising  the  soup.  The 
kids  are  asleep,  at  last,  thank  the  Lord. 
Now  we  can  make  some  noise.  Come 
in  .  .  .  come  in  .  .  .  take  off  your  coats  .  .  . 
take  off  your  shoes  if  you  want  to." 

And  another  evening  at  Archie's  was 
under  way. 


/ 


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Sling  PUFF 
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$4.95 


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Be  sure  to  include  the  following  information: 
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Mary  Kay  and  Johnny 

(Continued  from  page   50) 


although,  as  he  says,  "Because  of  the 
pass  I  always  had  to  sit  in  a  box,  thus 
giving  me  an  oblique  theatrical  view  of 
things."  While  he  was  in  school  in 
Boston  and  Florida  Johnny  wrote  for 
school  papers  and  acted  in  little  theater 
groups,  school  plays  and  summer  stock. 

Mary  Kay  got  an  even  earlier  intro- 
duction to  the  stage.  She  made  her 
first  professional  appearance  at  the 
Pasadena  Playhouse  at  the  age  of  2Y2 — 
she  did  a  bunny  dance.  By  the  time  she 
was  14,  she'd  made  up  her  mind  that 
she  wanted  nothing  in  this  world  more 
than  to  be  an  actress.  Unlike  Johnny, 
she  had  no  theatrical  background  in  the 
family.  Her  father  was  a.  banker,  and 
his  father  had  been  a  banker,  and  he 
was  very  much  opposed  to  Mary  Kay's 
even  thinking  about  a  stage  career. 
Undaunted,  Mary  Kay  got  a  job  in 
"Music  City,"  a  record  store  in  Holly- 
wood, to  pay  for  acting  lessons  with 
Zeke  Colvin,  former  stage  manager  for 
Ziegfeld.  She  then  went  on  to  two  years 
in  the  Actor's  Lab,  famous  experimen- 
tal group  in  Hollywood.  She  was  just 
19  in  August,  1945  when  she  followed 
her  fluttering  heart  to  New  York. 

Johnny  can  laugh  now  about  his 
breathless  dash  from  the  campus  to 
Hollywood,  but  it  didn't  seem  so  funny 
at  the  time.  When  he  finally  landed  a 
screen  test  at  Paramount,  the  test  went 
on  from  8  one  morning  until  8  that 
night.  "I  didn't  know  whether  the 
trouble  was  with  me  or  the  camera," 
Johnny  remembers,  "until  the  next  day 
when  I  went  in,  confident  I  was  going 
to  sign  a  seven-year  contract,  and  I  was 
offered  the  job  of  carpenter!  I  told  them 
I  was  insulted — but  I'd  take  it.  So  I 
made  the  water  rough  while  Gary 
Cooper  rescued  the  heroine  in  'Souls 
at  Sea,'  cleaned  up  after  the  camels  for 
Irene  Dunne  in  'High,  Wide,  and  Hand- 
some,' etc.,  etc."  Frustration  gave 
Johnny  a  case  of  ulcers,  so  he  came 
back  East  to  New  Hampshire  where 
his  mother,  Edith  Bond  Stearns,  and 
he  operate  the  Peterborough  Players 
Summer  Theater.  He  started  getting 
parts  in  Broadway  shows  and  appeared 
briefly  in  almost  every  movie  made  in 
New  York  in  the  past  two  years. 

Mary  Kay  landed  a  job  two  months 
after  she  hit  New  York.  She  was  an 
understudy  in  "Dear  Ruth"  and  later 
got  a  part.  When  the  show  closed  in 
July  1946,  she  did  "Charlie's  Aunt"  in 
summer  stock,  first  at  Martha's  Vine- 


yard and  then — and  here  comes  fate — 
then  at  the  Peterborough  Players!  It 
didn't  take  the  pretty  little  ingenue 
and  the  young  co-owner  of  the  Peter- 
borough Players  long  to  discover  each 
other.  A  few  months  later  they  were 
married. 

Johnny  was  becoming  very  much  in- 
terested in  television  at  that  time,  and 
he  got  Mary  Kay  interested  too.  This 
was  not  particularly  difficult  since,  if 
it  involved  acting,  his  young  wife  was 
half  sold  at  the  start.  While  thinking 
about  a  show  idea,  Johnny  realized  that 
their  newly-married  state  was  a  con- 
stant source  of  material.  Mary  Kay's 
cute,  naive  approach  to  her  new  domes- 
tic duties  supplied  him  with  endless 
anecdotes,  so  why  not  build  a  show 
around  their  real-life  experiences?  In 
record  time  they  had  Mary  Kay  and 
Johnny  sold  to  Dumont — with  Johnny 
handling  all  the  writing  and  producing 
chores  and  Mary  Kay  appearing  in 
"Strange  Bedfellows"  at  the  same  time. 
Before  the  show  left  Dumont  to  go  on 
WNBT,  where  it  is  now  seen  and  heard 
on  Sundays  from  7:00  to  7:20  P.M.,  the 
young  Stearnses  had  received  26,000 
letters,  telegrams  and  postcards,  as 
well  as  numerous  presents.  Their  show 
has  been  mentioned  in  every  "most 
popular"  video  poll  to  date  too. 

Last  summer,  between  the  end  of 
their  Dumont  stint  and  the  start  of  their 
NBT  series,  they  had  their  first  vacation 
in  two  years.  They  went  up  to  the  farm 
in  Peterborough.  To  demonstrate  why 
he  contends  that  Mary  Kay  is  a  walking 
plot,  Johnny  tells  about  the  trip  up. 
"We  took  the  midnight  train,  and  I 
found  that  to  save  money  Mary  Kay 
had  reserved  only  one  berth.  The  trip 
proved  rather  hectic  when  I  discovered 
that  she  had  smuggled  into  the  berth 
her  cat  (a  pure  white  Angora  named 
Patricia)  as  well  as  a  high-strung 
Pomeranian  which  she  was  keeping  for 
a  friend.  After  flipping  a  coin  I  ended 
up  in  the  smoker  making  faces  at  the 
Pom."  That  incident  and  things  like 
the  time  they  attended  an  antique  auc- 
tion while  up  in  New  Hampshire,  got 
separated,  and  wound  up  bidding 
against  one  another  for  a  pair  of  cap- 
tain's chairs,  will  undoubtedly  appear 
before  the  cameras  on  their  show. 

They  are  writing  a  third  party  into 
the  script  in  December.  They  don't 
care  if  it's  a  boy  or  a  girl,  but  they're 
awfully  glad  it's  getting  into  their  act! 


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am 
tin 
till 

eni 

II* 


"It  Never  Hurts  to  Try!" 

(.Continued  from  page  43) 

Costello  programs,  both  the  Kid  Show 
on  Saturday  and  the  Wednesday  night 
one  on  ABC,  ever  since  they  started. 
And  so  I  heard  the  prize  contest  an- 
nouncement— $30,000  in  prizes  for  the 
most  sincere  letter  beginning  "I  want 
to  fight  juvenile  delinquency  be- 
cause .  .  ." 

"Well,"  I  said  to  myself,  "that  is  a 
subject  I  know  something  about —  chil- 
dren. It  won't  hurt  to  try,  and  who 
knows?     Maybe  I  can  win!" 

After  supper  that  evening  I  sat  down 
and  wrote.  I'm  not  a  writer,  and  I 
doubt  that  my  letter  had  anything  like 
"style"  or  "literary  merit,"  but  I  know 
it  was  sincere.  The  judges— Eddie 
Cantor,  Vincent  Flaherty,  and  Arthur 
Stebbins — especially  noted  that  quality 
of  sincerity,  I've  been  told. 

I  DON'T  remember  now  exactly  how 
I  worded  it,  but  I  tried  to  put  into 
that  letter  all  the  love  and  understand- 
ing Daddy  and  I  had  given  our 
children.  I  tried  to  express  my  belief 
that  the  best  way  to  fight  juvenile  de- 
linquency is  to  give  children  that  love 
and  understanding — before  they  are  de- 
linquent. Daddy  and  I  know,  from  ex- 
perience, that  there  are  no  "bad"  chil- 
dren. There  are  children  who  make 
mistakes  and  who  get  wrong  ideas,  but 
we  believe  that  such  children  are  the 
victims  of  poor  home  training  or  of 
poor  parental  example. 

Children  are  great  mimics.  If  you 
don't  want  them  to  do  a  thing,  don't  do 
it  yourself  or  they  will  imitate  you.  And 
don't  promise  them  anything  you  don't 
intend  to  do — because  they  will  lose 
faith  in  you,  and  then  in  others,  and 
first  thing  you  know  you  have  a  "bad" 
child  on  your  hands,  maybe  even  a 
"delinquent"  child.  Kindness,  patience, 
firmness  but  no  nagging — those  are  the 
rules  we  followed  and  believe  in.  And 
we  would  put  kindness  first  on  the  list. 

I  wrote  these  ideas  as  best  I  could, 
and  I  mailed  my  letter — with  a  silent 
prayer.  I  didn't  expect  to  win,  but  I 
hoped  and  I  kept  on  praying.  That  was 
on  May  7 — and  on  July  10  my  prayers 
were  answered.  Since  then,  it's  been  a 
fantasy  out  of  the  Arabian  Nights! 

Jim  Moore  of  Shenandoah's  station 
KMA  broke  it  to  us  gently,  or  I'm  sure 
I'd  have  fainted  dead  away.  He  came 
around  and  said  that  I'd  won  $100  for 
the  best  letter  received  from  KMA's 
audience,  and  he  wanted  us  to  come  to 
the  station  next  day  to  have  our  pic- 
tures taken.  That  was  wonderful 
enough,  but  when  he  broke  the  news 
that  my  letter  had  won  the  grand  prize 
— well,  I  cried!  I  still  can  hardly  be- 
lieve it — the  suddenness  of  it,  the  ex- 
citement, the  speed  with  which  won- 
ders mounted  upon  wonders. 

Imagine  it — two  simple,  hardwork- 
ing, God-fearing  grandparents  lifted 
from  a  little  Shenandoah  apartment 
and  set  down  bodily  in  a  beautiful  suite 
at  the  Hollywood  Plaza  Hotel,  in  the 
very  heart  of  the  magic  movie  and 
radio  city.  It  was  all  so  quick,  from  the 
first  news  to  the  time  we  boarded  the 
train  for  California,  that  Daddy  in  his 
excitement  even  forgot  to  bring  his 
watch! 

So  that  you'll  understand  why  we 
two  remained  in  a  daze  practically  all 
through  our  visit,  I'll  have  to  tell  you  a 
little  about  our  early  lives.  Both 
Daddy  and  I  were  farm  children  from 
Missouri.  We  married  young,  and 
Daddy    has    worked,    long    and   hard, 


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86 


since  he  was  seventeen.  Farm  laborer, 
construction  worker — all  kinds  of  jobs 
he's  had.  I  remember  in  the  depression 
after  World  War  I  he  walked  six  miles 
a  day  to  catch  a  ride  for  some  work 
sixty  miles  away.  The  children  came, 
and  we  both  had  to  work  harder.  I  did 
all  the  washing,  ironing,  cooking,  mend- 
ing, and  cleaning  for  the  family,  and 
we  could  never  afford  even  so  much  as 
a  hired  girl  to  help.  If  I  wearied  of  my 
endless  work,  I  could  always  look  at 
Daddy — bent  and  sweating  out  in  the 
hot  midwestern  fields  of  a  summer  day, 
or  plodding  through  bitter  winter 
snows  to  get  to  some  job,  any  job,  that 
would  keep  us  going. 

ONCE,  after  much  saving  and  skimp- 
ing, we  thought  we  had  "arrived." 
We  bought  our  own  little  farm.  It  was 
wonderful — and  we  lost  it.  We  began 
our  "travels"  again  around  Missouri 
and  Iowa.  During  the  last  war  we 
moved  to  Tucson,  Ariz.,  where  Daddy 
worked  in  an  airplane  factory.  But 
mostly,  for  the  past  fifteen  years,  we 
lived  in  Shenandoah.  We  had  many 
bad  times,  but  the  children  never  went 
hungry.  We  always  went  to  church, 
and  read  the  Bible,  and  said  grace  be- 
fore meals,  and  no  matter  what  hap- 
pened we  found  courage  to  carry  on. 
We  had  to  nurse  the  children,  each  in 
turn,  through  childhood's  usual  diseases 
— measles,  scarlet  fever,  and  the  rest. 
When  Carl,  our  youngest  boy,  was 
seven  he  had  pneumonia,  and  for  a 
time  we  feared  we  would  lose  him.  We 
prayed,  and  he  pulled  through.  We 
prayed  all  through  the  war  when  Carl, 
now  a  grown  young  man,  was  in  the 
army  and  served  in  the  Aleutians.  Dur- 
ing his  training  days,  I  visited  him  in 
California.  Then  I  went  by  bus.  This 
time  .  .  . 

We  traveled  in  style.  We  were  guests 
of  Abbott  and  Costello,  two  grand  gen- 
tlemen and  most  sincere  in  their  work 
for  the  Lou  Costello,  Jr.,  Youth 
Foundation,  their  living  memorial  to 
Lou's  tragically  lost  little  boy.  Guests 
of  these  great  stars,  we  appeared  on 
their  radio  programs.  We  visited 
movie  studios  where  we  met  other 
stars.  We. dined  at  the  Brown  Derby. 
Mrs.  Costello  took  us  to  Slapsy  Maxie's 
night  club,  where  we  were  "spotlighted" 
and  Tony  Martin  dedicated  a  song  to  us. 
We  were  guests  at  a  grand  barbecue 
party  at  lovely  Brenda  Joyce's,  where 
we  met  other  celebrities.  We  joined 
the  Costellos  on  their  yacht  for  a  trip 
to  Catalina.  We  had  sight-seeing  tours 
through  the  beautiful  streets  of  Bev- 
erly Hills  and  Bel-Air.  We  saw  the 
majestic  Pacific,  and  the  exciting  horse 
races  at  Hollywood  Park — quite  a  con- 
trast to  the  races  we  had  seen  at  small 
county  fairs!  So  many  exciting  things 
we  did,  so  many  celebrities  we  met — 
and  people  asking  us  for  our  auto- 
graphs! 

And  the  prizes!  That  $5,000  mink 
coat  and  that  $3,000  trailer;  the  $1,250 
diamond  ring,  the  $1,200  jewel  chest, 
the  $1,300  watches,  the  $3,000  sedan— 
so  many  fabulous  items  I  can  scarcely 
call  them  off  without  a  list.  No  wonder 
one  of  the  ABC  representatives,  meet- 
ing our  train,  made  that  quip  about 
Daddy. 

"What  line  of  work  do  you  follow, 
Mr.  Lawrence?"  he  asked. 

"Right  now,"  said  Daddy,  "I'm  un- 
employed." 

"You  mean  yesterday  you  were  un- 
employed.    Today     you're     retired!" 

We  are  keeping  the  new  car,  and 
we're  giving  the  "real,  live  baby  ele- 
phant" to  the  Costello  foundation.  (It 
wouldn't   be    very    happy    in    a    small 


apartment,  and  besides  it  will  bring  a 
lot  of  happiness  to  the  kids — of  all  races, 
creeds  and  colors — at  the  playground.) 
We  are  selling  most  of  the  other  things, 
not  because  we  wouldn't  enjoy  some  of 
them,  but  because  we  want  cash  to 
fulfill  a  dream.  That  $4,795  airplane 
is  no  temptation  to  either  of  us,  because 
Daddy  and  I  have  never  been  in  the 
air  and  don't  intend  to  start  flying  now. 
The  mink  coat  I'd  love,  but  not  as  much 
as  I'd  love  the  realization  of  our  dream. 

Our  dream  is  of  a  little  home  of  our 
own,  with  "just  a  little  ground  to  raise 
a  good  garden,"  as  Daddy  says.  Into 
that  home  perhaps,  we  can  put  the  gas 
range  we  won,  and  the  $1,000  heating 
and  cooling  system,  and  the  tile  kitchen 
and  bath,  and  a  few  of  the  more  prac- 
tical and  useful  prizes. 

We  have  both  fallen  in  love  with 
California,  and  it  may  be  that  we'll 
find  that  dream  here  if  prices  come 
down.  On  the  other  hand,  Iowa  has  a 
warm  place  in  our  hearts,  and  we'd 
think  long  before  deciding  to  move  so  far 
away  from  our  children's  homes  in  Iowa, 
Minnesota  and  Missouri.  Not  long  ago 
little  granddaughter  Patricia  was  pretty 
sick  in  Minnesota,  and  as  soon  as  we 
heard  we  caught  a  bus  and  got  to  her 
bedside.  As  a  grandma,  I  like  to  think 
that  our  visit  made  her  get  well  faster. 
And  I  like  to  know  that  I  can  reach  any 
of  their  homes  on  short  notice  if  need 
be.  So  maybe  we'll  settle  on  Iowa  after 
all,  despite  the  entrancing  flowers  and 
climate  of  California. 

Right  now  we're  not  rushing  to  make 
decisions.  When  our  merry  round  of 
Hollywood  life  is  finished,  we'll  rest  up 
on  our  two  weeks'  free  vacation  (an- 
other prize)  at  El  Rancho  Hotel  in  Las 
Vegas.  We  hear  there  is  gambling  in 
Nevada,  but  don't  worry  about  us  on 
that  score.  We're  looking  forward  main- 
ly to  the  wonderful  scenery  we've  heard 
about,  to  the  cool,  starlit  desert  nights, 
and  to  a  real  rest. 

SOMEONE  has  asked  me  if  I  don't  re- 
gret that  this  great  good  fortune  of 
ours  was  delayed,  if  I  don't  wish  it  had 
happened  in  the  days  when  we  were 
struggling  to  raise  our  family.  That's  a 
hard  question.  It  would  have  been  a 
great  help  then,  of  course.  The  children 
might  have  had  "advantages"  we 
couldn't  give  them,  like  nicer  clothes, 
and  a  few  luxuries  to  brighten  their 
growing  days.  As  parents  we  might 
have  had  fewer  worries  about  groceries, 
doctor  bills,  house  rent  and  expenses 
generally. 

But  probably  it's  just  as  well  that  it 
happened  now.  Life  is  a  struggle  in 
any  circumstances,  and  people  grow 
strong — or  soft — according  to  the  way 
they  meet  it.  Daddy  and  I,  and  later 
the  children,  had  to  meet  it  head-on, 
under  our  own  power,  and  we  figure 
we  came  out  on  top.  The  children  are 
healthy  and  strong,  and  they're  good 
American  citizens,  and  they're  rearing 
good  families  of  their  own,  and  that's 
the  important  thing.  So  our  prize 
money  came  after  we'd  done  our  jobs 
as  parents,  and  it's  satisfying  to  know 
that — however  grateful  we  are  for  win- 
ning—we did  those  jobs  as  most  plain 
Americans  do.  Without  help,  I  mean, 
other  than  God's. 

And  what  if  we  hadn't  won?  Well, 
we'd  have  managed  somehow,  just  as 
we  always  managed  before.  It  might 
not  have  been  easy,  but  we'd  have  done 
it.  We're  used  to  struggle,  and  misfor- 
tune doesn't  get  us  down. 

Neither,  of  course,  does  good  fortune. 
We're  happy  that  it  happened  to  me — 
to  us —  just  as  I  prayed  it  would. 

And  it  can  happen  to  you! 


Picture  Yourself  us  u 
Hollywood  Beuuty 

Well — why  not?  What  has  a  movie  star  got 
that  you  haven't  got? — 

"Look  at  yourself  in  the  mirror.  Why,  you'd  be 
lovely  if  you  didn't  have  those  big  hips,  if  you 
didn't  have  a  protruding  stomach,  if,  if,  ifl 
Well,  knock  those  'ifs'  in  the  head.  Start  to 
work!  Get  busy!  Use  your  brains,  your  com- 
mon   sense    and    courage!" 

The  above  paragraph  is  from  Sylvia  of  Holly- 
wood's book  No  More  Alibis — a  truly  amaz- 
ing, stimulating  and  inspiring  book.  A  book 
that  should  be  required  reading  for  every 
gal — regardless  of  age.  For  here  in  128  pages 
Sylvia  gives  you  her  most  successful  beauty 
secrets.  She  tells  you  how  she  helped  many 
of  Hollywood's  brightest  stars  with  their  figure 
problems.  She  names  names — tells  you  how 
she  developed  this  star's  legs — how  she  re- 
duced that  star's  waistline — how  she  helped 
another  star  to  achieve  a  beautiful  youthful 
figure. 

j  Bear  in   mind  that  all  of  Sylvia's  instructions 

i  are  simple  to  follow.  You    need    not  buy  any 

equipment  whatsoever.  You  can  carry  out  all 

of  Sylvia's  beauty  secrets  right  in  the  privacy 

of  your  own  home. 

This  book  formerly  sold 
for  $1.00  in  stiff-back 
binding.  Now  published 
in  paper  cover  you  get 
the  identical  information 
for  only  50c  and  we  pay 
the  postage.  Send  for 
your     copy    today. 


I 1 

Bartholomew  House,  Inc.,  Dept.  RM-1248  j 
205  E.  42nd  Street,  New  York  IT,  N.  Y. 

Send  me  postpaid  a  copy  of  No  More  Alibis 
by  Sylvia  of  Hollywood.    I  enclose  SOc. 


Name.  . 
Address . 
City 


Please  Print 


State 


.J 


Coast  to  Coast  in 
Television 

(Continued  from  page  48) 

fall,  still  have  plenty  of  good  football 
coming  their  way  via  WBKB.  Nov.  6th 
Iowa  at  Illinois;  Nov.  13th  Northwestern 
at  Notre  Dame;  Nov.  20th  Indiana  at 
Purdue;  and  Nov.  27th  Washington  at 

Notre  Dame. 

*  *         * 

WMAL-TV,  in  Washington,  D.  C,  has 
a  very  interesting  show  called  On 
Wings  of  Thought.  It  features  Robert 
L.  Friend,  a  mentalist.  He  hypnotized 
three  subjects  on  his  regular  Thursday 
night  stint  recently,  and  that  was  be- 
lieved to  be  the  first  time  anyone  was 
hypnotized  on  a  TV  show.  No  reports 
of  any  televiewers  being  hypnotized  as 
a  result  of  the  show,  although  hypno- 
tism is  not  permitted  over  the  radio  be- 
cause listeners  are  often  affected! 

*  *         * 

Many  owners  of  television  sets  worry 
because  with  new  improvements  con- 
stantly being  made,  their  sets  will  soon 
become  obsolete.  The  British  televiewer 
has  no  such  problem.  BBC  passed  a 
decree  in  the  Fall  that  the  present  sets 
were  adequate  and  all  future  sets  will 
be  turned  out  in  exactly  the  same  man- 
ner for  several  years  to  come. 

*  *         * 

Barry  Wood,  long'  one  of  radio's  fa- 
vorite crooners,  not  only  produces  and 
stars  in  his  own  CBS-TV  show  Places 
Please  three  times  a  week  (Monday, 
Wednesday,  and  Friday,  7:15  to  7:30) 
but  he  is  also  the  producer  of  a  lively 
video   show  featuring  the  Korn  Kob- 

blers. 

*  *         * 

Operation  Success,  which  we  lauded 
as  a  one-shot  over  NBT  a  few  months 
ago,  is  now  a  regularly-scheduled  fea- 
ture of  the  Dumont  network.  The  show, 
which  displays  abilities  of  disabled  war 
veterans,  is  done  in  cooperation  with 
the  Veterans  Administration.  Through- 
out the  program  employers  are  asked 
to  phone  in  job  offers.  The  program 
originates  in  New  York  and  is  also  seen 
in  Washington,  D.  C,  Baltimore,  Boston, 

and  New  Haven. 

*  *         « 

Cinderella  Weekend,  the  prize-win- 
ning audience  participation  show  is  now 
being  televised  on  Fridays  for  Detroit's 
100,000  televiewers  via  WWJ-TV.  The 
grand  prize  each  week  is  a  weekend 
trip  to  New  York  for  two.  The  weekly 
selection  is  made  on  Fridays  to  coincide 

with  the  telecast. 

*  *         * 

Veterans  in  Cleveland  with  good  war 
yarns  to  spin  can  tell  them  over  WEWS 
on  the  television  show  called  Booty 
Bag.  Stories  are  always  backed  up  with 
souvenirs  and  trophies  and  there  are 
prizes  for  the  best  stories  and  most  in- 
teresting souvenirs. 


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Life  With  Sister 

Margaret 


(Continued  from  page  53)  was  so  un- 
concerned about  this  episode  that  she 
didn't  tell  us  about  it  for  several  days. 
We  have  never  seen  the  little  boy  since. 
Maybe  he  was  a  mirage.  On  another 
occasion  Margaret  emerged  from  CBS 
after  her  Club  15  broadcast  and  was 
stopped  by  a  nice-looking  boy,  who — 
instead  of  saying,  "I'm  Joe  Doakes  and 
you  wrote  my  themes  when  we  were  in 
fifth  grade  together" — pulled  that  foggy 
line,  "I'll  bet  you  don't  remember  me!" 

I'M  the  sort  of  person  who  would  have 
said  "No"  thereby  winning  noth- 
ing except  lasting  enmity.  Not  Mar- 
garet. She  hedged.  "If  you'll  go  on 
talking,  I  think  I'll  place  your  voice," 
she  said.  And  there  she  stood,  laugh- 
ing and  talking  to  the  boy  and  tossing 
out  key  questions  until  she  remembered 
where  she  had  met  him,  and  even  what 
his  Army  rank  had  been.  When  you 
realize  that  we  entertained  about 
plenty-million  service  men  during  the 
war,  you  have  to  give  the  girl  credit. 

At  yet  another  time  she  exhibited  her 
customary  poise  and  efficiency.  For 
three  days  she  helped  me  pack  a  trunk 
and  several  bags  for  a  New  York  trip. 
She  called  the  transfer  company,  dis- 
patched my  trunk,  checked  my  airline 
reservations,  checked  hotel  reserva- 
tions, then  sent  me  off  to  the  beauty 
shop  to  get  my  hair  done. 

While  I  was  gone  my  agent  tele- 
phoned to  say  that  I  was  to  be  tested 
for  the  Junior  Miss  show,  so  I  would 
have  to  cut  my  New  York  trip  short. 
Margaret  telephoned  the  airline  to 
move  my  reservations  forward;  tele- 
phoned the  hotel  and  advanced  the 
reservations;  wired  Betty  Sullivan 
(columnist  Ed  Sullivan's  daughter,  who 
is  one  of  my  best  friends) ;  telephoned 
my  aunt  to  make  arrangements  for 
us  to  meet  in  Detroit;  then  telephoned 
me  to  say — not  that  I  was  about  to  get 
the  radio  break  of  my  life — but  that  she 
had  bad  news  for  me:  my  New  York 
trip  was  being  abbreviated. 

I  hung  up  and  went  back  to  the  drier 
to  let  the  news  bake  in. 

Margaret  hadn't  been  away  from  the 
telephone  more  than  two  seconds  before 
our  agent  called  again  to  say  that  I 
wouldn't  be  able  to  go  to  New  York 
at  all  because  rehearsals  were  to  start 
at  once. 

Hang  on  to  the  handrail  and  follow 
this:  Margaret  telephoned  the  airlines, 
the  hotel  ....  well,  she  unwound  every- 
thing she  had  just  wound  up.  Then  she 
called  me,  still  as  calm  as  a  string  quar- 
tet, and  said  soothingly,  "You  mustn't 
mind  too  much — there  will  be  hundreds 
of  future  New  York  trips  for  you." 

It  was  seven  hours  later  that  she  and 
I  and  Eleanor,  glooming  over  dinner, 
suddenly  realized  what  a  stupendous 
radio  break  the  Junior  Miss  show  repre- 
sented for  me.  The  local  shingles  are 
still  warped  from  the  shout  that  went 
up. 

One  more  item  of  my  sister's  poise 
makes  me  a  nail-biter  in  envy:  her 
management  of  date  problems  is  as 
smooth  as  an  Astaire  step.  She  gives 
the  general  impression,  in  a  group,  that 
she  is  showing  everyone  equal  atten- 
tion, but  afterward  she  points  out  to 
me  some  of  the  things  a  girl  can  do  to 
let  a  man  know  that  he's  special  stuff. 

Also,  when  our  mother  decided  that 
the  time  was  ripe,  Margaret  explained 
to  me  the  things  every  girl  must  learn. 


I  personally  think  this  was  a  better 
idea  than  being  informed  by  Mother; 
you  see,  afterwards  when  I  had  a  ques- 
tion, it  was  cosy  and  secret-sharing 
(and  girls  love  to  share  secrets)  for  me 
to  sneak  into  Margaret's  room  when  she 
came  home  from  a  date,  and  whisper 
for  hours. 

Another  endearing  fact  about  my  sis- 
ter is  that  she  is  the  most  generous  per- 
son you  ever  met.  I  don't  have  my  own 
allowance  and  I  really  don't  need  one, 
because  I'm  allowed  to  charge  the  gaso- 
line for  my  car,  and  my  clothing  is 
bought  on  my  mother's  charge  account. 

BUT  when  I  do  need  an  occasional 
dollar  for  stamps  or  stuff,  I  always 
know  that  Margaret  will  hand  it  over 
without  ever  asking  a  question.  This 
might  encourage  some  girls  to  take  ad- 
vantage, but  I  always  tell  Margaret 
what  I'm  going  to  do  with  the  dough. 

She  is  generous  in  another  way,  too. 
Few  people  realize  that  Margaret  has 
been  in  show  business  since  she  was 
fourteen.  She  loves  her  work  and  she 
works  hard. 

During  her  years  in  show  business 
Margaret  has  learned  all  the  tricks  of 
timing  and  has  developed  all  the  shad- 
ings of  technique  which  add  up  to  fine 
performance.  During  our  long  night 
sessions  of  yakity-yak,  she  has  coached 
me  in  the  methods  that  she  had  to  learn 
without   being   tipped   off   in   advance. 

A  lot  of  kids  I  know  think  that  the 
routine  in  this  world  is  (1)  have  talent, 
or  pretend  you  have;  (2)  get  a  break; 
(3)  buy  an  acre  of  automobile  and  a 
swimming  pool  entirely  surrounded  by 
house;  (4)  live  happily  ever  after. 

Margaret  has  pointed  out  to  me  that 
it  would  be  super  if  this  were  the  way 
the  world  operates,  but  that  it  plain 
isn't.  She  knows  the  value  of  a  buck 
if  anyone  ever  did,  and  she  has  let  me 
in  on  the  secret  that  dimes  aren't  found 
in  daisy-centers. 

She's  practical.  I  may  not  be  that 
yet,  but  at  least  I  have  the  brains  to 
understand  that  in  this  world  you've 
got  to  do  a  good  job,  you've  got  to  give 
your  best,  and  you've  got  to  go  right  on 
improving  yourself. 

She  always  has  a  goal  just  ahead. 
Margaret  is  now  taking  drama  les- 
sons, ballet  lessons,  and  also  a  course 
in  physical  conditioning.  She  wants  to 
progress  from  her  radio  and  recording 
successes  to  leads  in  Broadway  shows. 
After  that,  she  would  like  to  do  musical 
comedy  in  motion  pictures. 

With  that  kind  of  upward-and-on- 
ward  Brave  New  World  example  star- 
ing at  me  across  the  breakfast  table 
every  morning  there  is  no  chance  of 
me  turning  into  Miss  Sloth  of  1950. 

Another  smooth  thing  about  my  sister 
is  that  she  has  the  knack  of  saying  the 
right  thing  at  the  right  time.  When 
20th  Century-Fox  dropped  my  option 
with  a  mighty  thud,  Margaret  merely 
observed,  "Metro  passed  up  Astaire,  but 
now  see  what  they  pay  him  for  one 
picture!  I  don't  feel  sorry  for  you  at 
all;  you'll  hit  the  top.  I  feel  sorry  for 
people  who  don't  have  talent  in  the 
first  place  and  who,  in  the  second, 
drown  themselves  in  their  own  tears." 

Margaret  has  a  super  clothes  sense, 
which  comes  in  handy  for  me  as  I  can 
wear  all  of  her  things,  but  she  can't 
wear  many  of  mine  (too  short).  About 
the  only  garment  she  snatches  out  of 
my  closet  is  an  antique  pair  of  blue 
jeans  which  have  reached  that  perfect 


state  ha.1:  a-  between  newness  and 
total  ventilation. 

I  can  wear  her  evening  gowns  (when 
she  isn't  around) ,  her  sweaters,  skirts, 
and  date  dresses.  I  look  sensational  in 
her  fur  coat,  and  even  if  her  silver- 
brocade  evening  slippers  are  a  trifle  too 
large,  I've  acted  out  the  better  parts  of 
"Gone  With  The  Wind"  before  the  mir- 
ror, while  wearing  them.  They  make 
me  feel  utterly  Southern  Belle. 

Southern  Bawl  was  more  the  way  she 
felt  about  it  when  she  noticed  that  I 
had  scuffed  one  of  the  heels. 

Before  Margaret  was  born  I  think 
Mother  must  have  been  frightened  by 
an  electrical  transformer  station  which 
is  one  of  the  orderliest  places  on  earth. 

Margaret  has  a  spot  for  everything, 
and  brother,  everything  has  to  be  in  its 
spot.  She  says,  and  I  hope  you'll  par- 
don the  expression,  that  I  keep  my 
room  "loused"  up  all  the  time  and  that 
when  I  get  sick  of  the  muddle  in  there, 
I  move  into  her  room. 

Out  of  self-defense,  she  tidies  up  my 
room  as  well  as  hers.  She  makes  a  fuss 
while  she's  sorting,  folding,  hanging, 
and  dresser-drawering,  but  things  look 
elegant  when  she  has  finished. 

Margaret  is  a  junior  Elsa  Maxwell  at 
planning  parties.  When  I'm  going  to 
have  a  gang  in  or  an  evening  of  hot  dogs, 
cokes,  and  divertissement  (whatever 
that  means),  she  is  always  able  to  sug- 
gest things  to  do.  First  she  thinks  we 
should  play  records  (especially  hers — 
plug)  and  dance.  She  sticks  around  to 
teach  us  various  new  steps  which  the 
girls  usually  know  but  the  boys  don't. 
She  has  a  sixth  sense  about  which  guest 
is  self-conscious  and  which  is  a  spot- 
light hound;  she  puts  the  first  at  ease 
and  the  second  at  changing  records. 


I  don't  want  to  give  the  impression 
that  she  is  too  excruciatingly  perfect, 
because  she  isn't.  For  instance,  she  got 
hold  of  my  diary — the  one  written 
when  I  was  an  immature  child  of  fif- 
teen— and  read  a  great  deal  of  it.  At 
that  time  I  thought  I  was  in  love  with 
Peter  Lawford.  Now  that  I  am  seven- 
teen, I  feel  sure  it  wasn't  true  love,  but 
only  fascination.  Nevertheless,  this 
was  part  of  my  development  and  I 
think  she  should  have  allowed  me  to 
develop  in  private  without  quoting 
certain  breathless  passages. 

Here's  another  sore  spot:  Margaret 
has  a  perfectly  loathsome  habit  of 
showing  guests  my  juvenile  pictures, 
taken  when  I  still  had  my  baby  fat.  I 
tried  to  retaliate  by  showing  some  of 
her  early  pictures,  but  they  happen  to 
be  cute,  so  I  was  baffled  and  stuff. 

Just  when  I  have  reached  the  con- 
clusion, after  one  of  the  ghastly  Old 
Family  Album  evenings,  that  it  would 
be  better  if  Margaret  and  I  went  our 
separate  ways  and  met  only  as  ac- 
quaintances forever  after,  she  has  to  go 
away  on  a  personal  appearance  tour. 

The  second  or  third  night  of  her  ab- 
sence I  discover,  foolish  me,  that  I  am 
so  homesick  and  lonesome  for  her  that 
I  can't  stand  it.  I  moon  around  the 
house  missing  her  noise,  missing  her 
grownup  nonsense.  I  play  her  favorite 
song,  "Someone  To  Watch  Over  Me" 
over  and  over.  And  I  sneak  into  her 
room  and  sleep  in  her  bed  just  to  feel 
nearer  to  her.  So  far  I  have  never  sent 
her  a  telegram  reading,  "Come  home  at 
once,  all  is  forgiven,"  but  I  may,  yet. 

I  guess  the  final  word  on  an  older 
sister  is  that  sometimes  she  is  sure  to 
go  sour,  but  most  of  the  time  she's  ab- 
solutely super. 


Barb 

(Continued  from  page  53) 
know     more     about     the     mechanical 
gadgets  of  our  era  than  I  did  when  I 
was  their  age.   They  know  more  about 
geography,  politics,  music  and  art,  too. 

Speaking  of  mechanical  gadgets: 
Barbara — who  is  just  past  seventeen — 
has  been  driving  her  own  car  for  al- 
most a  year  now.  Mother  and  I  nearly 
disjointed  ourselves  keeping  our  fingers 
crossed  for  the  first  few  months  of 
Barbara's  solo  driving.  She  is  the  only 
known  human  being  to  turn  our  garage 
corner  with  one  wheel  touching  the 
driveway.  The  squeal  of  that  tire  could 
be  heard  for  miles.  During  the  meat 
shortage,  neighbors  used  to  rush  hope- 
fully into  the  street  looking  for  the  pig 
that  had  just  been  slaughtered. 

However,  this  was  a  brief  phase.  She 
and  her  friends  have  seen  too  many 
gory  results  of  speed,  scattered  along 
the  California  highways,  to  persist 
in  taking  chances.  Most  of  Barbara's 
group  are  careful,  considerate,  and  slow 
drivers.  Also  they  keep  their  cars  in 
fine  mechanical  condition  because  they 
know  from  rebuilding  motors  that  when 
the  tarposis  begins  to  wheeze  it  is  time 
to  have  the  naranthus  adjusted. 

Of  course,  this  mastery  of  motors 
sometimes  gives  Barbara  and  her 
friends  a  sense  of  being  in  full  over- 
seership  of  their  environment.  For  in- 
stance, Barbara — emerging  from  her 
bedroom  where  she  had  been  reading 
a  magazine — descended  the  stairs  an- 
nouncing at  the  top  of  her  lungs,  "I  do 
not  like  the  way  Betty  Grable  is  doing 
her  hair  these  days.  It  isn't  as  becom- 
ing as  some  of  her  earlier  styles." 

When  she  bounced  into  the  living 
room    to    discover    that    Mother    and    I 


ara 

were  entertaining  guests,  she  was  the 
epitome  of  calm.  She  showed  the  mag- 
azine cover  around  the  group,  repeating 
her  disapproval  of  Miss  Grable's  pic- 
tured coiffeur.  Then  she  stalked  out, 
happy  at  having  asserted  herself. 

It  seems  to  me  that  the  current  young 
crop  is  always  on  the  hunt  for  news  and 
facts.  They  are  glued  together  with 
curiosity.  Recently  Mother  and  I  came 
home  from  a  shopping  tour  and  found 
Barbara  quizzing  the  Fuller  Brush  man. 

For  the  next  two  weeks  we  heard  lit- 
tle except  brush  statistics  and  anecdotes 
from  the  life  of  a  door-to-door  sales- 
man. We  kept  expecting  these  nuggets 
to  run  out  but  when  the  vein  seemed 
— at  the  end  of  the  second  week — as  rich 
as  it  was  the  day  Barbara  told  the 
gentleman  goodbye,  we  questioned  her 
more  closely  about  the  length  of  his 
visit.  He  had  talked  with  Barbara  for 
almost  four  hours! 

OUR  entire  family  is  naturally  gre- 
garious. We  like  people,  but  Barbara 
has  inherited  the  Whiting  inclination 
kingsize.  Her  idea  of  the  perfect  house- 
hold is  the  three  of  us  plus  three  to  five 
house  guests.  Her  idea  of  the  perfect 
dinner  table  is  that  at  which  not  less 
than  eight  persons  are  seated.  I  think 
she  is  a  throwback  to  the  great  days  of 
the  south  when  flocks  of  cousins  de- 
scended upon  a  commodious  plantation 
house  and  stayed  for  six  months. 

Having  surrounded  herself  with 
guests,  Barbara  then  interprets  them 
as  members  of  the  family  in  good  stand- 
ing. She  does  little  to  entertain  them, 
leaving  everyone  to  his  own  devices, 
which  seems  to  please  the  guests  very 
much;    in    no    time,    they're    at    ease. 


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It  seems  to  me  that  Barbara  and  her 
friends  are  more  realistic  in  tlieir  social 
behavior  than  my  gang  was  at  seven- 
teen. We  tried  too  hard;  we  were  too 
conscious  of  what  the  etiquette  books 
said.  Not  this  junior  crop!  I  have 
strolled  into  a  silent  room,  thinking  it 
was  empty,  only  to  surprise  four  or  five 
happy  characters  with  their  noses 
buried  in  reading  matter  covering  an 
intellectual  span  from  comic  books  to 
Shakespeare. 

Another  wonderful  thing  about  Bar- 
bara is  that  she  is  professionally  gal- 
lant. Her  two  best  girl  friends  are 
Peggy  Ann  Garner  and  Peggy  Knudsen, 
and  she  thinks  each  is  "posituvally" 
tops  in  her  field.  At  present  it  is  a  great 
thing  among  them  to  refer  to  one 
another  as  "Ingrid,"  in  honor  of  their 
heroine  Miss  Bergman.  To  be  called 
"Ingrid"  is  the  compliment  supreme. 

Barbara's  professional  gallantry  with- 
stood one  of  the  most  difficult  tests  of 
all:  that  of  being  applied  within  her 
own  family.  Ever  since  we  could  re- 
member there  has  been  one  particular 
song,  written  by  my  father,  which  was 
regarded   as   Barbara's   property. 

She  sang  it  on  special  family  occa- 
sions. She  roared  it  in  the  shower.  It 
was  as  intimate  a  belonging  as  her 
toothbrush.  Or  as  mine — which  is 
practically  the  only  thing  I  own  which 
she  doesn't  borrow. 

The  song  was  so  catchy  that  it  was 
inevitable  that  someone  should  hear  it 
and  ask  me  to  sing  it,  merely  because 
I  have  the  reputation  for  being  the 
singer  in  the  family  whereas  Barbara 
has  the  reputation  for  being  the  co- 
medienne. The  time  will  come  when 
Barbara  will  make  me  look  like  an 
also-ran,  I'm  afraid,  because  she  has 
a  lovely  voice.  I  doubt  if,  when  that 
day  arrives,  I  will  be  able  to  equal  her 
as  a  comic. 

I  talked  over  the  making  of  this  song 
recording  with  my  mother  and  she 
agreed  that  it  was  going  to  be  rough  to 
take  Barbara's  pet  into  the  nation's 
juke  boxes  with  my  label  on  it  and  my 
voice  waxed  in  the  grooves.  But  there 
didn't  seem  to  be  much  else  to  do.  We 
wanted  Dad's  music  to  live  and  this 
was  one  way  of  keeping  it  alive. 

When  we  talked  it  over  with  Barbara, 
she  was  wonderful.  She  didn't  ask  why 
the  recording  couldn't  be  postponed  a 
few  years  until  she  had  undergone 
training  enough  to  be  the  singer.  She 
simply  started  to  coach  me. 

SHE  coached  me  right  up  to  the  door 
of  the  recording  studio.  This  might 
have  been  a  little  hard  to  take  under 
other  circumstances,  because  I  sort  of 
think  I  know  something  about  putting 
over  a  song,  but  I  realized  that  this 
anxiety  of  Barbara's  to  have  the  num- 
ber turned  out  exactly  as  she  thought 
it  should  be  styled  was  pretty  sweet. 
She  could  have  been  bitter  and  heart- 
sick, but  she  was  too  completely  the 
trouper  to  let  such  emotions  enter  her 
head.  That's  how  "Pass  that  Peace 
Pipe"  was  made. 

And  she's  such  a  good  sport  that  she 
changed  her  favorite  tune.  It  is  now 
"Somewhere  Over  The  Rainbow." 

Most  girls  Barbara's  age  are  tele- 
phone-hounds. Thank  heaven,  she  isn't. 
Our  telephone  rings,  rings,  rings  from 
dawn  until  dawn;  if  any  single  member 
of  the  family  held  up  the  line  for  more 
than  ten  minutes,  that  person  would 
have  to  be  gagged,  bound,  and  hidden 
in  a  chest  to  keep  the  telephone  com- 
pany from  launching  an  investigation. 

Probably  the  shortest  calls  of  all  are 
those  placed  by  or  received  by  Barbara. 


Her  technique  is  clarion,  but  effective. 
"Hello,"  she  yells,  "what  do  you  want? 
Anything  special?  Just  to  talk?  What 
about?"  That  defeats  the  would-be 
conversationalist  because  practically  no 
one  who  is  going  to  talk  more  than 
three  minutes  has  any  idea  what  he  or 
she  is  going  to  talk  about. 

My  little  sister  is  not  perfect,  of 
course.  Who  is?  I  find  that  some  of 
her  worst  faults  are  her  most  refreshing 
attributes.  For  instance,  she  almost 
never  allows  anyone  to  finish  a  sen- 
tence. She  interrupts  in  a  clear  and 
ringing  voice.  At  times  this  habit  has 
annoyed  me  to  suds-in-her-mouth. 

That  this  is  not  entirely  a  fault  was 
revealed  to  me  at  a  dinner  party  one 
night  when  I  was  on  the  verge  of 
finishing  a  sentence  that  would  have 
been  the  faux  pas  of  the  season.  Bar- 
bara cut  me  off  at  the  safe  mark  and  the 
next  day  I  bought  her  some  perfume 

"Don't  get  it,"  said  my  kid  sister.  "One 
day  I  get  a  lecture  on  manners  because 
I  interrupt,  and  the  next  day  I  earn 
perfume  for  the  same  thing."  But  she 
understood  perfectly.  She  was  jv.st 
having  fun  with  me. 

Another  fault  for  which  I  haven't 
found  a  counterpart  virtue  is  her  de- 
termination to  investigate  everything 
in  my  room  when  I'm  not  at  home. 
Several  years  ago  she  turned  up  a  diary 
in  which  I  had  been  spilling  my  girlish 
heart.  She  memorized  long  passages 
and  for  months  afterward  she  would 
stare  into  the  middle  distance  as  she 
passed  me  like  a  sleepwalker,  and  re- 
cite some  of  the  beautiful  thoughts  I 
had  been  fool  enough  to  trust  to  a  diary. 
I  suppose  I  should  have  been  cagier: 
after  all,  the  closed  covers  of  any  book 
are  an  invitation,  let  alone  the  book  in 
which  your  elder  sister  has  been  spilling 
the  secrets  of  her  grown-up,  madly  ex- 
citing   (Barbara  hopes)    life. 

Quite  by  accident  I  discovered  the 
journal  she  was  keeping  at  the  time  she 
worshiped  Peter  Lawford  from  afar. 
Mother  and  I  tried  the  Barbara  tech- 
nique on  Barbara  with  enormous  lack 
of  Barbara  approval.  My,  my — the 
things  she  said. 

Neither  of  us  keeps  a  diary  nowadays, 
but  either  of  us  could  with  entire  safety. 

Barbara  thinks  about  the  future  with 
realism.  She  works  hard  at  her  singing, 
drama,  dancing,  and  physical  education 
because  she  wants  to  be  not  only  a  great 
comedienne,  but  a  great  dramatic 
actress.  She'll  succeed,  I'm  certain,  be- 
cause she  has  both  the  talent  and  the 
dynamic  drive  such  a  career  demands 

HOWEVER,  at  the  end  of  this  dramatic 
rainbow,  Barbara  sees — not  the  tra- 
ditional pot  of  Fort  Knox  huckleberries 
— but  a  hundred  closets  filled  with 
clothes.  She  hopes  to  hit  the  list  of  ten 
best-dressed  women  by  the  time  she  is 
twenty-one,  and  she  plans  to  keep  up 
that  Hooper  until  she  wears  the  world's 
smartest  shroud. 

Meanwhile,  she  admits  with  a  guile- 
less smile,  she  will  have  to  be  con- 
tented with  the  things  she  finds  in  my 
closet,  a  paltry  collection. 

When  I  make  a  trip  to  New  York  1 
always  plan  to  lock  my  room  and  hide 
the  key,  but  I  never  go  through  with  it. 
Reason  one:  by  the  time  I  reach  New 
York  I  am  so  hungry  for  the  sight  of 
that  junior  miss — even  wearing  my 
newest  and  most  prized  evening  gown — 
that  I  telephone  her  and  suggest  that 
she  run  through  my  possessions  in 
search   of   something   she   really   likes. 

By  that  time  she  usually  has  complied 
in  advance. 

My  sister  is  also  efficient,  you  see. 


Another  Woman 

(Continued  from  page  65) 


for  good,  just  made  it  that  much  worse." 
"But  I  am  through!"  Portia  cried. 
"The  Mason  murder  trial  was  my  last 
case.  And  once  Walter  has  all  the  facts, 
he'll  see  why  I  had  to  go  back  to  the 
law  just  this  once." 

"Oh,  you  poor  dear!"  Leslie  looked 
ready  to  cry.  "And  now  it's  too  late! 
Oh,  dear,  this  is  so  awkward  and  pain- 
ful. When  he  first  told  me  he  wasn't 
going  to  let  you  know,  I  pleaded  with 
him,  told  him  he  simply  must  send  you 
some  word.  But  you  know  how  stub- 
born he  can  be — " 

"Will  you  stop  talking  in  circles?" 
Portia  almost  shouted.  She  was  shak- 
ing; the  cut-crystal  bottles  on  Leslie's 
dressing  table  were  dancing  before  her 
eyes.  She  felt  that  she  couldn't  endure 
another  moment  of  Leslie's  deliberate 
torture,  that  she  had  to  escape  or  ex- 
plode. "Just  tell  me  where  he  is!  Where 
is  he?" 

"He's  gone,  Portia.  His  plane  left  at 
two  this  afternoon." 

Portia  felt  the  floor  move  under  her 
feet,    saw   the    room   tilt    around    her. 
Walter  was  gone — this  was  the  truth. 
The  rest  of  it — Leslie's   chatter   about 
begging  Walter  to  write  to  Portia,  the 
false  sympathy — were  so  much  poisoned 
froth  and  probably  exactly  the  opposite 
of  what  had  really  taken  place  .  .  .  but 
j   she  could  no  longer  doubt  that  Walter 
,   had  gone.    Leslie  was  too  sure  of  her- 
self,  too  triumphant,  for  it  not  to  be 
true.     Somehow     she'd     managed     it; 
somehow  she'd  managed  to  send  Walter 
thousands  of  miles  from  Parkerstown 
1   and  Portia. 

"He  couldn't."  The  words  were  the 
i   merest    whisper    out    of    her    swollen 
throat.     "Not  Walter.     He  couldn't — " 
r      "Until  you  told  me,"  Leslie  agreed, 
her    voice    thick    with    sympathy,    "I 
wouldn't  have  believed  he  could,  either. 
Oh,  I  know  he  told  me  it  was  over  be- 
'   tween  you,  but  I  thought  he  was  just 
angry,  and — well,  you  know  how  men 
are.     Don't  let  it  hurt  you  too  much, 
Portia.      Any   man    who'd   do    such    a 
I   thing  isn't  worth  thinking  about.  You're 
|   still  young  and  lovely.     In  your  place, 
1   I'd    forget   Walter    Manning   ever    ex- 
isted." 

Portia  let  the  syrupy  words  slide  over 
her,  hardly  hearing  them,  not  caring. 
Nothing  mattered  any  more.  She  was 
hardly  aware  of  Leslie;  all  there  was  in 
the  world  was  the  fact  that  Walter  had 
gone  and  her  own  unbearable  pain. 


"But  why?"  she  asked  brokenly. 
"Why  did  he  do  it?" 

"I — oh  there's  no  use  saying  I  don't 
know.  All  I  can  tell  you  were  his 
reasons.  Are — are  you  sure  you  want 
to  hear  them?" 

Portia  nodded  dumbly,  fighting  the 
pain  within  her,  fighting  faintness. 
"I've  got  to  hear  them." 

"Well,  he — "  Then  she  started  slight- 
ly, as  if,  after  having  been  rapt  in  con- 
cern for  Portia,  she  suddenly  remem- 
bered herself.  "But — my — ah — guest  1 
Will  you  go  down  to  the  lobby  and  wait 
for  me,  Portia?  It'll  take  me  only  a  few 
minutes  to  send  my — my  friend — away 
and  to  slip  into  a  dress.  Can  you  wait 
ten  minutes?" 

Again  Portia  nodded;  she  even  per- 
mitted Leslie  to  take  her  arm,  lead  her 
to  the  door  to  the  foyer.  Leslie  opened 
the  door  an  inch  or  two,  glanced  into 
the  foyer,  and  whispered,  "Don't  say 
anything  as  you  go  through  the  foyer. 
I'll  tell  my  friend  you  were  my  maid. 
And  I'll  see  you  downstairs  in  a  few 
minutes." 

"I  understand."  Leslie  held  the  door 
open,  and  Portia  passed  through.  The 
faintness  was  creeping  up  on  her;  she 
could  hardly  feel  her  legs  move;  the 
door  to  the  hall  wavered  and  blurred 
before  her  eyes.  She  had  reached  it; 
the  knob  turned  under  her  nerveless 
hand.  Behind  her,  as  in  a  dream,  she 
heard  Leslie  start  toward  the  front  of 
the  apartment,  heard  a  man's  voice 
calling,  "Leslie,  was  that — " 

Portia  stopped.  The  faintness  filled 
her  vision,  roared  in  her  ears.  Then 
suddenly  it  was  gone,  and  sights  and 
sounds  were  vibrantly  clear. 

" — was  that  my  package?  I'd  like  to 
get  a  fresh  shirt  out  of  it,"  the  man's 
voice  went  on.  It  was  coming  into  the 
foyer.    Walter's  voice. 

Portia  turned.    "Walter — " 

"Portia!" 

Leslie's  words  leaped  into  the  silence 
that  followed,  like  chips  sucked  into  a 
vacuum.  "Oh,  Portia,  I  only  wanted  to 
spare  you,  to  keep  you  from  knowing — " 

"How  did  you  get  here?"  Walter  de- 
manded to  know.     "When — " 

Leslie  rustled  forward  to  stand  be- 
side him,  between  Portia  and  Walter. 
Appealingly  she  turned  to  Portia.  "Be- 
lieve me,  I  did  the  only  thing  I  could 
do — under  the  circumstances." 

The  circumstances  were  obvious — 
Leslie     in     the     clinging,     champagne 


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negligee,  Walter  in  shirt  sleeves  and 
his  eyes  heavy,  his  hair  rumpled,  as  if 
he'd  been  napping. 

"The  circumstances,"  he  repeated, 
and  took  his  dazed  eyes  from  Portia  to 
look  at  Leslie.  "Now  just  a  second, 
Leslie,"  he  began  sharply.  But  she 
rushed  on. 

"It's  too  late  to  try  to  hide  the  truth 
from  her,  Walter.  And  perhaps  it's 
better  this  way.  She  had  to  know  some 
time.  I  did  try  to  protect  all  of  us,  at 
first.  I  told  her  you'd  already  left  for 
Ankara.  I  thought  it  was  kinder  than 
telling  the  truth.  Or — would  you  rather 
I  had  told  her?" 

"No — I — Portia — Oh,  dear  God  in 
heaven,  I  didn't  mean  that  it  should  be 
like  this.  You  see,  I  have  to  go,  Portia. 
Everything's  all  set,  my  visas,  my 
tickets  .  .  .  there's  no  way  out — " 

HIS  eyes  pleaded  with  her,  mirroring 
;  the  pain  in  hers.  Leslie's  ex- 
quisite head  faced  to  a  mere  shadow 
between  them;  Portia  was  remember- 
ing another  woman  who  had  come 
between  them,  was  remembering  a 
summer  afternoon  on  a  Long  Island 
beach  two  years  ago.  .  .  . 

I'm  partly  to  blame,  Walter. .  I  knew 
what  Elaine  was  like;  I  should  have 
known  she  was  lying.  As  it  was,  oh 
Walter  darling,  I  was  so  frightened,  so 
terrified  of   losing  you — 

He'd  held  her  hard  by  the  shoulders, 
forcing  her  to  meet  his  eyes.  Let  me 
get  this  thing  straight,  Portia.  Are  you 
saying  that  even  though  you  believed 
Elaine  Arden's  lies,  you  were  still  will- 
ing to  forgive  me,  to  go  on  living  with 
me? 

That  doesn't  sound  as  if  I  had  much 
pride,  does  it?  But  I  love  you  so  much 
that  without  you — without  you,  there's 
no  point  in  living. 

He'd  taken  her  in  his  arms,  and  if 
heaven  is  knowing  one  thing  surely, 
forever,  she'd  been  in  heaven  then 
with  the  sureness  of  his  love. 

My  darling — maybe  you  don't  realize 
what  kind  of  woman  I've  got  as  a  wife. 
How  many  women  could,  love  their 
men  enough  to  forgive  them  for  the 
kind  of  thing  you  thought  I'd  done? 

I  was  a  fool  not  to  trust  you,  Walter. 
And  I'll  never  be  stupid  like  that  again. 
I  promise. 

And  now,  facing  him  with  Leslie  be- 
tween them,  she  thought,  "And  I  still  do 
trust  him.  I  don't  believe  any  of  this. 
It's  like  a  masquerade.  Only — is  this 
really  Walter?  He  looks  so  tired  and 
beaten  and  old.  Something  terrible  has 
happened  to  him." 

"I  don't  understand,"  she  said  aloud. 
"I  won't  believe  it  until  I've  heard  you 
say  it  in  so  many  words.  Look  at  me 
and  tell  me  you're  through,  Walter — 
really  through  with  Parkerstown  and 
with  me." 

"I — "  He  couldn't  finish,  and  she 
knew  that  he  was  remembering,  too  .  .  . 
remembering  four  years  of  living  and 
loving  each  other,  remembering  Elaine 
Arden,  remembering  the  times  they  had 
been  separated  and  had  come  together 
again. 

"For  heaven's  sake,  Walter,"  Leslie 
burst  out,  "what  are  you  waiting  for? 
Tell  her,  and  then  she'll  go.  The  longer 
this  drags  on,  the  more  embarrassing 
it  is  for  all  of  us.  For  my  sake  and 
yours,  Walter,  tell  her  that  it's  over!" 

He  said  the  words,  said  them  with 
agonizing  slowness,  as  if  they  were 
pried  out  of  him.  "I'm  leaving  for  An- 
kara, Portia,  at  midnight.  I  don't  know 
when  I'll  be  back.  I'd  planned  to  wire 
you  from  the  airport  just  before  the 
plane  left." 


"I  see,"  said  Portia,  wondering  that 
you  could  feel  your  heart  split  open  and 
still  go  on  breathing. 

Leslie  crossed  to  the  door.  "I'm  ter- 
ribly sorry  you  had  to  find  it  out  like 
this,  Portia  .  .  .  but  won't  you  go  now? 
This  is  all  very  distressing  for  all  of 
us — "      She  opened  the  door. 

"Walter  still  hasn't  told  me  that  he's 
through — with  me,"  Portia  said  steadily. 
"I'm  not  going  until  he  does." 

"Good  heavens!"  Leslie  whirled  upon 
her.  "Where's  your  pride?  Isn't  the 
situation  all  too  obvious  without  having 
it  put  into  words?  Must  you  keep  in- 
sisting— " 

Walter  crossed  over  and  shut  the 
door.  "This  is  between  Portia  and  me, 
Leslie.  Please  stay  out  of  it." 

"Stay  out  of  it?"  Leslie  cried  shrilly. 
"It  just  so  happens  that  this  concerns 
me  as  much  as  it  does  you,  and — " 

"No,  it  doesn't,"  said  Walter  grimly. 
"Not  since  Portia's  come  to  New  York. 
If  she'd  stayed  away,  it  might  have  been 
different.  But  now  she's  here,  I  can't 
hurt  her  like  this.  I'd  rather  make  a 
clean  breast  of  the  whole  rotten  mess." 

"Well!"  Leslie  exploded.  "I  must 
say  that's  a  very  nice  compliment  you 
pay  me,  Walter!" 

"Stop  play-acting,"  he  said  wearily. 
"You  know  what  I  mean.  Come  into 
the  sitting-room,  Portia.  Leslie,  if  you 
want  to  stay  and  hear  what  I  have  to 
say,  you  can.  If  not,  you're  perfectly 
free  to  go  into  the  bedroom  and  close 
the  door." 

Leslie  trailed  them  into  the  sitting- 
room.  She  seated  herself  in  a  corner 
of  the  divan — rather  ostentatiously, 
since  Walter's  coat  and  tie  were  draped 
over  the  other  end.  She  sat  watching 
them  narrowly — still  playing  her  cat- 
and-mouse  game,  Portia  thought,  only 
now  the  cat  found  herself  with  two 
mice  to  watch.  Portia  looked  at  the 
chair  Walter  held  for  her,  and  refused 
to  sit  down,  fearing  that  she  would 
never  summon  the  strength  to  get  up 
again. 

"Now  tell  me,"  she  begged.  "If  you're 
in  love  with  Leslie — if  you  don't  want 
me  any  longer,  the  kindest  thing  is  to 
come  right  out  and  say  it." 

"\OT  want  you!  Oh,  Lord  God,  I—" 
n  His  voice  caught.  Then  he  re- 
covered himself  and  went  on  almost 
briskly.  "What  I'm  trying  to  tell  you  is 
that  you  deserve  a  better  break  than 
this.  You're  young  and  beautiful  and 
warm  and — and  sweet.  You  have  a 
right  to  the  best,  a  right  to  try  to  find 
happiness  with  somebody  else." 

Portia  nodded  like  a  child  hearing  a 
lesson.  She  couldn't  speak.  This  was 
her  Walter  cutting  her  heart  out,  and 
telling  her  that  it  was  for  her  own  good. 

"I'm  only  thinking  of  you,  Portia — " 
He  groaned  and  sank  into  a  chair.  "Oh, 
Lord,  I'm  making  a  mess  of  this,  too, 
like  everything  else.  All  I'm  trying  to 
say  is  that  as  men  go  I'm  not  much,  but 
I'm  still  man  enough  to  cut  you  loose 
from  a  failure — a  failure  in  every- 
thing!" 

She  resisted  the  impulse  to  reach  out 
and  touch  his  bent  head.  "A  failure? 
You— Walter?" 

"I'm  fifteen  thousand  dollars  in  debt," 
he  said.  "That's  why  I  have  to  go  to 
Ankara  for  Advance  Pictures.  It's  the 
only  way  I  can  pay  the  money  back." 

"In  debt  fifteen  thousand — "  She 
stopped,  realizing  that  she  sounded 
shocked,  and  she  wasn't  shocked. 
Rather,  she  was  beginning  to  know  a 
great  relief.  If  the  root  of  the  trouble 
was  money,  and  not  Leslie,  not  a 
change  in  Walter's  feelings  toward  her, 


Portia  .  .  .  just  money, 

"Remember,"  he  said,  "the  money  I 
loaned  Bill  Baker  to  keep  Jess  Ward 
from  getting  the  Herald — the  money  I 
told  you  I  got  for  the  sale  of  'Survival?' 
Well,  I  lied  about  it.  Advance  Pictures 
didn't  buy  'Survival'." 

"But  you  did  get  the  money.  I  don't 
understand — " 

"  'Survival'  wasn't  good,"  he  said 
flatly.  "When  Leslie  read  it,  she  turned 
it  down.  I  lied  because  I  was  ashamed 
to  tell  you  it  was  bad." 

"Oh,  Walter — "  She  was  crying,  and 
she  didn't  care — crying  for  relief,  and 
for  the  abject  misery  in  Walter's  face. 
"What  can  I  say  to  make  you  see  that 
those  things  don't  matter?.  No  writer 
can  do  better  than  his  best — every  time. 
And  for  you  to  feel  ashamed  or  to  think 
you  had  to  lie — " 

"I  PROMISED  you  the  world  with  a 
I  fence  around  it,"  he  was  saying. 
"It's  either  that  or  nothing.  A  woman 
like  you  doesn't  have  to  settle  for  sec- 
ond best." 

Portia  hardly  heard  him.  Her  tears 
dried  on  her  cheeks,  and  she  was  think- 
ing. "I  haven't  settled  for  second  best," 
she  replied.  "There's  just  one  thing: 
if  Advance  Pictures  turned  down  your 
story,  how — where — did  you  get  the 
money  to  help  Bill?" 

"Leslie  advanced  it  to  me  on  my 
promise  that  I'd  rewrite  'Survival.'  I 
tried.  God  knows,  I  tried.  But  it — 
well,  it  just  didn't  jell." 

"And  when  you  brought  the  script 
to  New  York,"  Portia  went  on  for  him, 
"Leslie  turned  it  down  a  second  time." 

"Yes,  she — "  Walter  began,  but  Leslie 
broke  in  quickly,  "It  was  so  bad,  I  was 
shocked,  Portia.  I  couldn't  believe  that 
the  man  who  wrote  'Late  Blossoming' 
and  'Challenge'  could  have  turned  out 
such  inferior  work:  Yet  in  a  way,  I 
expected  it.  I  knew  that  Walter 
couldn't  write  in  Parkerstown — " 

"Did  you,  Leslie?"  Portia  asked,  her 
voice  dangerously  quiet.  "And  was 
'Survival'  really  so  bad,  or  did  you  turn 
it  down  to  prove  your  point?" 

"To  prove—"  Leslie  shrilled.  "Of  all 
the  ridiculous — I  won't  even  discuss  it! 
I  have  a  very  important  position  with 
Advance  Pictures,  Portia  Manning,  and 
I've  kept  it  because  I  know  a  bad  story 
when  I  see  one.    And  I  tell  you — " 

"And,"  Portia  went  on  relentlessly, 
"when  Walter  asked  you  for  that  fifteen 
thousand  dollars,  it  was  the  opportunity 
you'd  waited  for.  You  saw  your  chance 
to  force  Walter  to  leave  Parkerstown 
and  go  to  Ankara." 

Leslie  rose,  quivering  with  rage  and 
disdain.  "You're  mad!  I've  had  all 
the  nonsense  I  can  take  for  one  after- 
noon— " 

"Sit  down."  It  was  a  tone  Portia 
used  very  occasionally  while  trying  a 
case,  and  it  was  effective.  Leslie  sat,  al- 
though she  looked  a  little  surprised  at 
herself  for  obeying.  "There's  a  matter 
of  a  telegram,"  Portia  went  on.  "The 
wire  I  sent  Walter  saying  I  was  coming 
to  New  York,  and  which  the  desk  clerk 
told  me  he'd  given  to  you  to  give  to 
him." 

"You  wired  me?"  said  Walter.  "Les- 
lie, is  that  true?"  At  his  look  Leslie 
flinched. 

"I  was  only  trying  to  save  you  the 
embarrassment  of  just  such  a  scene  as 
this — "  she  began,  but  Portia  cut  in. 

"And  was  it  to  save  Walter  embar- 
rassment that  you  mailed  the  Herald 
and  the  Chronicle  in  Parkerstown  a  pic- 
ture of  you  two  dancing  at  a  night  club? 
Oh,  the  Herald  didn't  print  it,"  she 
added    quickly    to    Walter,     "but    the 


Chronicle  did,  and  then  Bill  told  me 
his  paper  had  got  one,  too.  It  set 
Parkerstown  on  its  ear." 

"I'll  bet  it  did,"  said  Walter  grimly. 
"Good  Lord,  Leslie,  were  you  crazy?" 

She  shrank  back  against  the  couch. 
"Whatever  I've  done,  Walter,  has  been 
for  your  sake!"  she  cried  desperately. 
"I  knew  what  that  hideous  hick  town 
was  doing  to  you!  You  were  miserable, 
and  it  showed  in  your  work,  and — and 
I  was  only  trying  to  help." 

"And  did  it  help,  Walter,"  Portia 
asked,  "when  she  told  Bill  Baker  that 
you  weren't  coming  back  to  Parkers- 
town because  you  and  she  had  reached 
an  understanding?" 

Walter  looked  blankly  from  Leslie  to 
his  wife.  "How  does  Bill  Baker  come 
into  this?  When  did  you  talk  to  him, 
Leslie?" 

"While  I  was  still  on  the  Mark  Ran- 
dall case,"  Portia  explained,  "he  called 
you  long  distance,  and  Leslie  answered 
the  phone.    You  were  at  a  dinner — " 

"You  never  told  me,"  said  Walter. 
He  moved  suddenly  toward  the  couch, 
and  Leslie  uttered  a  terrified  screech 
and  started  up.  "I  knew  it  would  only 
disturb  you — "  she  cried. 

But  Walter  had  reached  past  her  only 
to  pick  up  his  coat  and  tie.  "I've  heard 
enough  of  your  excuses!"  he  shouted. 
"What  a  fool  I've  been — what  a  com- 
plete and  stupid  idiot  not  to  see  it 
right  from  the  start.  Portia's  right; 
you've  been  trying  to  wreck  our  lives 
from  the  day  I  left  Hollywood — " 

"It  was  for  your  own  good!"  Leslie 
cried  frantically.  "Everything  I  did 
was — " 

"Was  for  the  insane  ego  of  Leslie 
Palmer,"  Walter  finished  savagely.  "As 
far  as  you're  concerned,  I'm  fed  up, 
through.  And  if  I  ever  trust  you  again, 
then  may  God  help  me  for  the  fool  I 
am!  Come  on,  Portia,  we're  getting  out 
of  here!" 

Leslie  had  the  last  word.  She  fol- 
lowed them  into  the  foyer,  raving. 
"You  say  you're  finished!  You  don't 
know  how  right  you  are,  Walter  Man- 
ning! Before  I'm  through  with  you, 
you  won't  be  able  to  get  a  job  anywhere. 
Do  you  hear  me?  Nobody  will  let  you 
in  the  door!  Then  you  will  really  have 
to  live  off  your  wife,  and  see  how  you 
like  that!    Just  see  how — " 

THEY  were  in  the  corridor.  The  door 
slammed  shut  behind  them,  cutting 
off  the  screaming,  vitriolic  voice.  They 
walked  a  few  steps  toward  the  ele- 
vators, and  then  they  stopped  and 
looked  at  each  other.  Then,  wordlessly, 
Walter  opened  his  arms,  and  Portia 
went  into  them. 

After  a  long  while,  he  said,  "My  dar- 
ling. My  own  darling,  let's  get  out  of 
here.  Let's  go — "  He  stopped,  looking 
blank.  "I  haven't  any  place  to  take 
you,"  he  said.  "I  haven't  even  a  place 
to  live—" 

"No  place — " 

"I  had  a  suite  here,  until  this  morning. 
Then — "   He  flushed  deeply. 

Portia  laughed.  "Then  Leslie,  know- 
ing I  was  coming,  suggested  that  you 
check  out  before  noon  and  use  her 
rooms  for  the  few  more  hours  you'd  be 
here — which  gave  her  a  chance  to  keep 
you  practically  under  lock  and  key.  Oh, 
dearest,  you  don't  have  to  explain — " 

And  he  didn't;  she  vowed  that  he 
would  never  have  to  explain  anything 
again.  She  had  never  believed  for  a 
moment  the  incriminating  picture  of 
Leslie  in  negligee  and  Walter  coatless 
and  tieless,  apparently  very  much  at 
home  in  her  rooms,  but  still  .  .  .  yes,  she 
was  glad  to  learn  exactly  how  it  had  all 


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come  about. 

"I've  a  lot  to  explain,"  he  said  rough- 
ly. "A  lot  to  ask  forgiveness  for.  I'm 
such  a  blind,  stupid  fool — to  leave  you 
as  I  did,  storming  out  of  the  house  with- 
out even  a  goodbye.  And  afterward,  I 
wanted  to  write,  and  so  many  times  I 
wanted  to  call,  but  I  was  too  ashamed. 
And  there  was  Leslie — she  had  me 
whipped  down  to  nothing.  If  she'd  been 
sharp  and  open,  I  could  have  fought  her, 
but  it  was  just  a  slow,  steady  drain  of 
my  self-confidence.  I'd  lost  all  faith  in 
myself,  in  my  ability  to  write,  in  every- 
thing. I  even  let  her  convince  me  that 
the  decent  thing  to  do  was  to  go  away 
without  telling  you — set  you  free  to  find 
someone  who'd  make  you  happier,  more 
secure — " 

OH,  Walter,"  she  whispered,  and  then 
she  covered  her  eyes.  "Hurry,"  she 
said  in  a  choked  voice.  "Call  the  desk 
and  see  if  your  rooms  have  been  turned 
over  to  someone  else.  If  they  haven't, 
tell  them  you're  reregistering  and  ask 
them  to  send  the  boy  up  with  the  key. 

It's  too  much almost  losing  you,  and 

then  finding  you  again.  I've  got  to  be 
some  place  where  I  can  let  go  a  little 
bit." 

The  suite  was  still  vacant.  And,  once 
they  were  in  possession,  Portia  found 
that  she  didn't  need  to  "let  go"  after 
all.  She  was  much  too  happy.  They 
both  were.  Walter  clung  to  her,  marvel- 
ing at  being  with  her  again,  marveling 
at  her. 

"Have  you  ever  been  beaten?"  he 
asked  finally.  "Why  weren't  you  finished 
this  afternoon?  I'd  dropped  out  of  your 
life;  you  came  to  town  and  were  told 
at  every  turn  that  I'd  left  for  Ankara — 
why  didn't  you  believe  it?  Where  do 
you  get  that  stamina  or  courage  or 
faith,  or  whatever  it  is?  No,  don't  laugh 
— if  you  can  tell  me,  maybe  I  can  learn 
to  believe  in  myself  again." 

Portia  closed  her  eyes,  hating  Leslie 
at  that  moment  more  than  she'd  ever 
hated  her  before,  hated  her  for  the  fine, 
thorough  job  she'd  done  of  destroying 
Walter's  faith  in  himself. 

"It's  simple,"  she  answered.  "The  old 
cliche,  loving  not  wisely  but  too  well'  is 
silly.  There  isn't  such  a  thing  as  loving 
wisely,  and  it's  impossible  to  love  too 
well.  Lov<=»  surpasses  all  thinking,  all 
common  sense;  it  can  work  miracles." 


"1  wish  it  could  work  a  practical  one," 
he  said  bitterly.  "I  wish  it  could  cancel 
that  trip  to  Ankara  and  put  me  back  in 
Parkerstown  for  the  rest  of  my  life — " 

"Do  you  mean  that,  Walter?  About 
Parkerstown?  You  can't — " 

He  nodded  soberly.  "Oh,  but  I  do.  I 
was  fed  up  with  it  when  I  left,  but  since 
I've  been  here  I've  realized  that  the 
trouble  wasn't  with  Parkerstown  but 
with  me.  And  I've  changed,  at  least  in 
that  respect.  This  Ankara  trip — a 
couple  of  years  ago,  no  matter  how 
much  I  hated  leaving  you,  I'd  have  still 
felt  a  little  tingle  of  anticipation,  a 
sense  of  adventure.  But  not  now.  I  hate 
— I  resent — having  to  go.  I  just  want  to 
go  back  to  Parkerstown  and  write — if  I 
can  still  write." 

"You  can  stiil  write,"  said  Portia.  "I 
know  that  as  surely  as  I  know  that  I 
love  you.  And  maybe — maybe  you 
can  get  out  of  that  trip.  Walter,  exactly 
what  is  the  procedure  when  a  manu- 
script goes  to  a  studio?  Doesn't  Leslie 
read  it  and  submit  a  synopsis  of  it  to  her 
superiors?" 

He  nodded.  "But  they  all  read  it  and 
turned  it  down — " 

"You  mean  they  turned  down  her 
synopsis,"  said  Portia  excitedly.  Walter, 
I'd  stake  my  life  that  that's  what  hap- 
pened! Perhaps  'Survival'  isn't  as  good 
as  'Challenge' — but  I'm  sure  it's  better 
than  'Late  Blossoming',  and  that  was  a 
hit.  Aren't  you  free  to  offer  it  to  another 
studio?  And  if  we  could  postpone  your 
plane  reservation  a  day  or  two,  and  get 
a  rival  studio — say  like  Soundstage — to 
read  'Survival'  in  a  hurry  .  .  .  and  if 
they  bought  it,  and  I'm  sure  they'll  buy 
it,  you  could  pay  your  debt  and  you 
wouldn't  have  to  go  to  Ankara — " 

She  stopped,  breathless.  Walter  was 
laughing  at  her.  But  his  eyes  were 
alight;  he  was  catching  fire  from  her 
enthusiasm. 

"You  dreamer!"  he  laughed.  "You 
wonderful,  impossible  dreamer!  We'll 
try  it,  and  there's  a  crazy,  far-off  chance 
it  might  work — " 

It  had  to  work,  Portia  thought.  Not 
thought — prayed.  And  she  knew  that 
it  would  work.  They  would  sell  "Sur- 
vival," pay  Walter's  debt;  they  would 
have  each  other  again,  and  Walter 
would  have  back  his  faith  in  himself. 
They  would  do  it  somehow — because 
they  were  together.  Together,  they 
could  do  anything. 


RADIO  MIRROR  QUIZ 

1.  You  know  him  as  Frank  Morgan.  What  is  his  real  name? 

2.  Jack  Smart,  "the  fat  man",  weighs  (a)  175,  (b)  235,  (c)  270. 

3.  What  two  famous  comedians  originally  planned  to  be  doctors? 

4.  What  famous  crooner  was  taught  to  sing  by  his  mother? 

5.  Singers  Dennis  and  Doris  Day  are  brother  and  sister.  (True  or 
false.) 

6.  Madonna  Josephine  Davis  is  Joan  Davis'  real  name.  (True  or 
false.) 

7.  Is  deep  water  easier  to  swim  in  than  shallow  water? 

8.  Did  any  president  ever  win  all  the  states  in  an  election? 

ANSWERS 


anal  puooas  sii)  'eojuo^  seuiDp  'sei^  '8 

'83U3J0UJP     OU 

53)|OUJ   jojom   ei|i   io   ijjdep   euj     ofg   ■[_ 

en-u.  '9 
espj    g 


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ue6j3g   JDbp^    puD   !iisa83|s 

-JOp|J9       iOSJQ       GH1>|       'AJD8J       |DH    •£ 

oa  z 

UDuueddn/y\    d>|l!Hd    s!0UDJd  'I 


EB  and  the  Boys 

(Continued  from  page   59) 


"Charlie's  view  of  Sweden"  via  16mm. 
camera.  Then  he  began  to  think  that 
black  and  white  wouldn't  do  justice  to 
Sweden's  beauties,  so  he  took  on  Tech- 
nicolor. Technicolor  seemed  sort  of 
wasted  on  16  mm.,  so  he  decided  on 
35  mm.,  the  film  used  commercially  in 
motion  picture  theaters. 

The  picture  was  originally  planned 
solely  for  entertainment,  and  that's 
still  its  first  function.  But,  the  way 
Charlie  handled  things,  there  couldn't 
be  a  more  natural  "good  relations"  me- 
dium. Maybe  he  should  be  an  ambassa- 
dor. After  all,  he  learned  Swedish  be- 
fore we  left  and  he  certainly  never 
missed  a  wink  at  the  cute  Svenska 
Flickas  we  met  in  our  travels. 

Edgar  and  he  can  hardly  wait  now 
to  take  on  Mexico  (you  should  hear 
Charlie's  Spanish!),  Hawaii,  and  Alas- 
ka. Even  Mars  wouldn't  surprise  me, 
in  their  present  state  of  enthusiasm. 

Besides  the  movie  Edgar  took,  which 
begins  in  New  York  and  includes  such 
events  as  the  King  of  Sweden's  90th 
Birthday  Parade  in  Stockholm,  EB 
and  the  boys  entertained  wherever  we 
went.  We  traveled  from  Gothenburg  to 
Stockholm  by  station  wagon,  stopping 
each  night  in  a  different  town,  with 
Edgar  and  Charlie  doing  their  stuff 
in  Swedish  for  the  local  kids.  It  was 
such  fun  watching,  because  so  many  of 
them  thought  Charlie  was  real.  Edgar 
played  the  Rivoli  in  Stockholm,  to  ten 
thousand  people  the  first  night,  then 
twelve  thousand,  then  fourteen  thou- 
sand. But  Charlie  got  all  the  raves. 

Our  itinerary  included  London,  with 
two  sell-out  weeks  at  the  Palladium.  I 
edged  into  that  engagement  with  our 
three-way  skit,  "The  Operation."  We 
went  into  Germany,  played  Frankfurt, 
Mannheim,  Weisbaden,  Heidelberg  and 
Berlin — were  the  first  entertainers  to 
fly  the  Russian  Corridor  after  "Opera- 
tion Vittles"  started.  Our  soldiers  there 
are  still  great  audiences,  and  we  came 
at  a  tense  time  when  they  were  on  alert 
status  and  entertainment  was  particu- 
larly welcome.  They  loved  Edgar  and 
the  boys — and  I  might  add  that  my 
tight-fitting  white  satin  nurse's  uniform 
made  a  hit  too. 

We  were  grateful  we  could  go  in, 
and  I  wish  every  American  could  see 
those  ruins  and  take  back  the  unfor- 
gettable picture  of  what  total  war  can 
do.  Paris,  by  contrast,  was  sheer  beauty, 
with    thrilling    avenues,    great    statues 


and  fountains,  and  an  air  of  gaiety  and 
fun. 

Travel  with  EB  and  the  boys  is  al- 
ways exciting,  even  on  shorter  trips. 
In  this  case,  perhaps  "hysterical"  is  the 
word.  The  boys  travel  in  padded  cases, 
and  by  the  time  those  two,  plus  the 
forty-eight  pieces  of  luggage,  cameras 
and  other  motion  picture  equipment  we 
had  to  take,  were  put  on  boat  or  train 
or  plane  there  was  hardly  any  room 
for  us. 

We  safeguard  the  boys  by  never  let- 
ting them  out  of  sight  of  someone 
trustworthy.  A  press  agent  once  had 
Charlie  "kidnapped"  and  restored  to 
the  paternal  knee  in  the  nick  of  time 
for  resumption  of  his  fall  schedule. 
When  Charlie  was  really  lost  some 
time  later,  no  newspaper  would  give 
a  line  to  the  story.  He  wasn't  stolen — 
they  merely  forgot  to  take  him  off  the 
plane  when  it  landed  at  Burbank.  He 
turned  up,  mad  as  Donald  Duck,  when 
the  plane  came  down  in  San  Francisco, 
but  it  was  a  bad  scare  for  EB  and  the 
sponsor  and  the  insurance  company  that 
has  set  a  price  of  ten  thousand  dollars 
on  Charlie's  little  wooden  head  (the 
same  head  he  started  with  many  years 
ago,  grown  older  but,  alas,  no  wiser). 

Our  little  Candy  stayed  home  in 
Beverly  Hills  this  time,  but  she  takes 
all  the  excitement  in  stride  when  she 
travels  with  us.  Whether  she  begins  to 
notice  that  people  recognize  Edgar,  we 
can't  say.  Probably  she  is  still  too 
young.  She  loves  the  attention,  makes 
friends  quickly,  and  manages  to  get  her 
share  of  the  spotlight.  We  may  have 
difficulty  later  in  keeping  her  unspoiled, 
but  with  good  schooling  and  sensible 
discipline  we  hope  to  give  her  a  com- 
pletely normal  little  girl's  life. 

Strangely  enough,  I've  noticed  on 
our  trips  that  most  people  don't  recog- 
nize Edgar  by  his  voice,  at  least  not  at 
first.  They  look  at  him — even  with  a 
hat  on! — and  seem  to  know  him  at 
once. 

Photography  is  only  one  of  EB's  in- 
terests, although  one  of  his  major  ones. 
He  collects  cameras — and  I  do  mean 
collects.  You  never  saw  such  an  array! 
But  it's  a  case  of  pot  calling  kettle 
black — I've  caught  his  collector's  itch, 
only  in  my  case  it's  matches.  And  a 
lovely  fan  I  brought  back  from  France 
has  set  me  to  collecting  those  too. 

He  has  never  been  lazy,  and  he  can't 
relax  even  now  unless  he's  doing  some- 


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thing.  When  he  says  he  is  going  to 
rest  a  while  you'll  usually  find  him  re- 
treating from  the  world  in  some  tome 
on  science,  aviation,  magic  or  the 
theater.  He  reads  biographies,  but  prac- 
tically no  fiction.  His  idea  of  pleasing 
music  is  "Meke  Believe."  "Sweet  Mys- 
tery of  Life,"  "Moonbeams,"  and 
similar  melodious  musical  comedy 
numbers. 

He  swims  and  rides,  putters  with  en- 
gines and  lathes  and  saws  in  his  work- 
shop, has  flown  his  own  plane  for  about 
nine  years.  He's  crazy  about  old  auto- 
mobiles— has  a  1905  White  Steamer  and 
a  Stanley  Steamer.  He's  a  pretty  good 
painter — does  still  life,  portraits,  most 
anything.  And  he's  a  bee-keeper.  We 
have  them  right  back  of  the  swimming 
pool. 

WE  live  in  a  ten-room  Mediterranean- 
style  house,  high  on  a  hilltop,  next  to 
the  old  John  Barrymore  estate.  The 
house  is  white  stucco,  with  terra  cotta 
shutters  and  tile  roof. 

We  have  a  big  living  room,  predomi- 
nantly green  in  color  scheme. 

Candy's  room  has  pale  pink  walls, 
with  furniture  sprayed  to  match.  Charlie 
still  has  his  own  room,  somewhat  "re- 
converted" since  Candy  came  along  and 
usurped  some  of  the  space  for  her  toys 
and  other  possessions.  There's  a  cedar 
closet  where  Charlie  hangs  his  hat — 
and  all  the  sartorial  splendors  of  his 
extensive  wardrobe,  including  his  Hon- 
orary Marine  Corps  Sergeant's  uniform 
and  his  West  Point  Cadet  regalia.  Poor 
Mort  needs  no  wardrobe  for  his  two 
homespun  suits! 

The  playroom  is  Early  American,  with 
simple  furniture  and  lots  of  copper 
and  brass.  It  has  a  stage,  where  Edgar 
has  been  experimenting  with  new  ideas 
and  routines,  which  he  tests  for  audi- 
ence reaction.  He  and  Charlie  are  talk- 
ing television  and  they're  ready  to  do 
their  stuff  on  video  any  day.  .That  dear 
old  girl,  Effie  Klinker,  who  worked 
with  Edgar  and  the  boys  a  while  on 
his  Sunday  night  NBC  broadcasts, 
misses  her  glamorous  past  and  wants 
to  be  in  on  the  television  highjinks.  Ed- 
gar feels  she  has  only  to  be  seen  to  be 
appreciated. 

We  have  16  and  35  mm.  projectors  in 
the  playroom  and  Edgar  likes  to  show 
pictures.  His  own  movie  favorites  are 
Ingrid  Bergman,  Irene  Dunne,  Margaret 
Sullavan,  Ronald  Colman  and  Spencer 
Tracy.  With  so  much  talent  to  draw 
from  among  our  friends,  we  have  some 
wonderful  extemporaneous  entertain- 
ment at  our  parties — and  of  course  the 
irrepressible  Charlie  always  has  his 
say.  Most  of  our  parties  are  small — a 
big  one  is  usually  for  some  special 
event. 

Besides  our  "collections,"  Edgar  and 
I  can't  resist  fine  glassware  and  paint- 
ings. Last  February  we  got  some  divine 
Bohemian  wine  glasses  in  New  Orleans 
and  now  we  have  some  handsome 
Swedish  glass  from  Stockholm.  We 
brought  Meissen  ware  from  Germany 
and  some  lovely  antique  jewelry  from 
Paris.  And  one  of  our  greatest  treasures 
is  a  Pierre  Bonnard  painting  of  "Mont- 
martre"  which  we  got  in  Paris  this 
summer. 

We  have  flower  and  vegetable  gar- 
dens, a  rose  garden,  and  an  unusual 
cactus  garden  next  to  the  pool.  Our 
house  is  built  picturesquely  around  a 
patio,  where  we  grow  the  biggest  and 
most  colorful  geraniums  I've  ever  seen. 

An  outdoor  barbecue  at  the  Bergens' 
is  apt  to  bring  out  lots  of  good  old 
friends:  Dinah  Shore  and  George 
Montgomery,  Georgia  Carroll  and  Kay 
Kyser,  the  George  Murphys,  the  Fred 


MacMurrays,  the  Freeman  Gosdens, 
among  others.  EB  likes  to  be  barbecue 
chef,  but  his  own  food  favorites  are 
seafood,  cheeses  and  fruit. 

Edgar's  main  interest,  of  course,  is 
The  Show.  That  comes  before  every- 
thing else.  Writing  days  are  Monday, 
Tuesday  and  Friday.  Saturday  is  re- 
hearsal, and  again  on  Sunday,  before 
showtime.  Usually  everything  is  pretty 
well  lined  up  a  few  hours  before  he 
goes  on  the  air,  but  sometimes  there 
are  last-minute  changes.  EB  is  ex- 
tremely conscientious — therefore  a  per- 
fectionist— therefore  a  worrier! 

Occasionally  I  go  to  a  rehearsal.  They 
are  tense  affairs  at  times,  especially 
when  the  inevitable  temperament  is 
present,  but  they're  mostly  hard-work 
sessions — reading  lines,  cutting,  edit- 
ing, typing  the  script  together,  work- 
ing   it    out    to    the    last    smartcrack. 

EB's  ventriloquism,  which  is  properly 
called  "voice  mimicry,"  provides  some 
informal  fun  for  us.  For  instance,  we 
have  one  of  those  fanciful  carved  birds 
in  a  wooden  cage,  and  Edgar  confounds 
the  dogs  and  our  visitors  by  making 
the  bird  talk,  sometimes  in  English 
and  sometimes  quite  unexpectedly  in 
Swedish. 

It  was  when  he  was  twelve  that 
Edgar  discovered  he  could  throw  his 
voice  successfully.  The  family  was 
having  dinner  when  he  tried  his  skill. 
His  mother  went  to  the  door,  was  mys- 
tified to  find  no  one  there,  and  he  knew 
then  that  he  could  really  "deceive" 
people.  It's  true  that  he  had  bought  a 
"wizard's  manual"  of  ventriloquism  and 
magic,  but  he  soon  learned  that  much 
depended  upon  his  own  practice.  His 
new-found  talent  and  his  stock  of 
magic  tricks  helped  pay  school  and 
college  expenses  from  that  time  on, 
and  got  him  the  vaudeville  and  night- 
club bookings  that  decided  his  career. 

Even  after  years  of  performances,  it 
took  Edgar  a  long  time  to  realize  how 
popular  he  and  Charlie  were.  They  had 
been  on  the  radio  for  several  months, 
on  the  Rudy  Vallee  program.  They 
had  won  praise  and  awards  for  the 
novelty  and  originality  of  the  act.  Then 
Edgar  was  booked  into  the  Wedgewood 
Room  at  the  Waldorf,  in  New  York. 
Before  the  deal  was  closed,  Edgar  told 
Ken  Murray  about  it.  Ken  told  him  he 
was  crazy  to  take  the  $400  offered. 

"Why,  all  those  little  dancers  get  at 
least  $750,  and  you're  worth  more  than 
they  are.  If  you  don't  demand  $750, 
and  hold  out  for  it,"  Ken  threatened 
him,  "you  can  stay  away  from  me.  I 
can't  bother  with  small-timers,"  he 
taunted,  trying  to  make  Edgar  realize 
his  own  importance. 

IT  worked.  EB  went  right  back  to  his 
telephone  and  called  his  agent. 

"I  want  $750,"  he  told  him.  "And 
don't  come  back  at  me,  either,  with  a 
$700  offer.  It's  $750."  And  he  got  it. 

When  I  married  Edgar  I  had  been  a 
model  and  a  singer,  and  some  of  us 
girls  in  Hollywood  used  to  get  together 
and  jest  about  the  "big  careers"  we 
had  given  up  for  love.  Then,  a  few 
years  ago,  I  decided  I  wanted  to  do 
something  on  my  own  again.  I  opened 
a  little  dress  shop  in  Beverly  Hills  and 
Edgar  was  enthusiastic  about  it,  en- 
couraging me  every  step  of  the  way. 
But  suddenly  I  realized  it  was  begin- 
ning to  run  away  with  me,  and  with 
the  time  I  should  be  giving  to  my  home 
and  family.   So  I  gave  up  the  shop. 

Being  Mrs.  Edgar  Bergen,  mother  to 
Candice  Patricia,  and  stepmama  to  the 
boys — and  Effie — had  become  a  full- 
time  job.  My  job — the  very  best  one 
in  the  world  for  me. 


Traveler  of  the  Month 

(Continued  jrom  page  47) 


medleys  of  request  numbers. 

Somewhere  along  the  line,  Bernard 
began  forgetting  about  his  own  sick- 
ness as  he  thought  about  the  other 
patients  and  tried  to  plan  programs 
which  would  appeal  to  all  tastes  and 
backgrounds.  Several  good  friends  in 
St.  Louis  took  to  driving  him  around 
town  to  ball  games  and  operas  on  his 
"days  off."  His  mother  came  to  the 
ward  every  Wednesday  with  home- 
made cookies — enough  for  all  of  the 
boys.     Bernard  was  moving  along. 

Still,  however,  he  suffered  from  the 
uncertainty,  the  lack  of  self-confidence 
that  marks  most  persons  who  have  been 
sick  for  a  long  time.  One  night,  there 
was  to  be  a  big  show  at  the  hospital 
auditorium,  with  Connee  Boswell  as  the 
star.  The  program  called  for  Bernard 
to  go  out  on  the  stage  and  get  the  show 
rolling. 

"I  was  worried  sick,"  he  recalled.  "It 
was  one  thing  to  sit  before  a  house 
microphone,  all  by  myself,  and  talk.  It 
was  something  else  again  to  go  out  in 
front  of  that  whole  audience  in  my 
wheel  chair.    I  just  couldn't  do  it. 

"Then  Connee  Boswell,  waiting  to  go 
on,  realized  what  was  wrong.  She 
talked  to  me,  and  reminded  me  that 
she,  too,  was  a  victim  of  polio.  She 
calmed  me  down,  and  said  there  was 
nothing  to  be  afraid  of.  Then,  she  made 
me  wheel  onstage  with  her — and  I  was 
all  right  after  that." 

I  think  that  Connee  Boswell  did  a 
wonderful  thing  that  night  for  an  un- 
known young  man  named  Bernard 
Estrin.  Everyone  in  our  Welcome  Trav- 
elers audience  joined  me  in  feeling 
pride  in  such  a  grand  trouper  as  Connee. 

A  little  later,  Bernard  acted  what  we 
call  a  "side  character"  into  his  disc 
jockey  routine.  It  was  Jose,  a  Mexican 
with  a  sad  voice  and  a  love  for  the 
rhumba,  played  by  our  Bernard  Estrin. 

One  day,  a  WAC  who  also  was  a  pa- 
tient came  to  see  Bernard  and  de- 
manded an  introduction  to  Jose. 

Bernard  introduced  himself  as  Jose, 
and  was  flattered  by  the  WAC's  dis- 
belief. If  Jose  was  so  real,  then  per- 
haps he  wasn't  such  a  complete  ama- 
teur. Maybe  he  had  a  touch  of  talent 
for  this  radio  business. 

That  was  a  thought — but  what  a  dar- 
ing thought!  It  was  something  to  think 
about  during  the  long  hours  in  bed.  A 
hope  for  a  new  career.  After  all,  disc 
jockeys  didn't  have  to  use  their  feet. 


What  difference  would  it  make  if  a  disc 
jockey  were  in  a  wheel  chair? 

Things  move  at  a  slow  pace  in  a 
hospital.  After  months  of  such  thoughts, 
Bernard  brought  himself  to  approach 
some  St.  Louis  radio  personalities.  They 
gave  him  a  voice  test  and  were  en- 
couraging. He  should  keep  at  it,  they 
said.  His  voice  was  good,  his  mike 
technique  showed  promise. 

For  the  first  time  now,  the  young 
man  had  a  dream.  Sure,  the  pain  still 
came.  Sure,  the  monotony  was  as  bleak 
as  ever.  Sure,  his  old  cocksure  world 
was  gone  forever.  But  perhaps,  out  of 
the  years  of  suffering,  a  new  world  was 
shaping. 

That  was  Bernard's  frame  of  mind 
when,  with  a  leave  from  the  hospital, 
he  visited  his  old  home  town,  Chicago. 
I  was  nattered  that  he  took  time  out 
from  his  busy  round  of  seeing  old 
friends  and  dining  with  relatives  to 
visit  with  us  at  the  College  Inn  of  the 
Hotel  Sherman. 

During  the  first  moment  of  our  inter- 
view, I  was  impressed  by  his  dignity 
and  sincerity.  As  he  began  telling  of 
his  work  as  the  hospital  disc  jockey  and 
admitted,  under  my  questioning,  that 
he  hoped  to  go  into  radio,  it  struck  me 
that  our  very  conversation  was  Bernard 
Estrin's  big-time  radio  debut. 

Of  course,  I'm  using  that  word  "de- 
but" loosely.  Bernard  isn't  yet  a  pro- 
fessional, and  he  wasn't  appearing  on 
our  program  as  a  professional.  He  was 
just  another  guest,  just  one  of  the  thou- 
sands of  ordinary  persons  who  have 
stopped  to  chat  with  us.  But  as  this 
young  man's  dramatic  story  unfolded 
all  of  us,  I'm  sure,  were  hoping  that 
some  day  Bernard  would  have  a  radio 
show  of  his  own. 

When  Bernard  is  released  from  the 
hospital,  I'm  going  to  introduce  him  to 
lots  and  lots  of  radio  people,  and  be  as 
helpful  as  I  can.  It  would  be  a  real 
privilege  to  be  of  assistance  to  a  fine 
young  man  like  him.  I  think  of  that 
whenever  I  recall  one  particular  state- 
ment of  his.    It  went  this  way: 

"If  I  should  ever  make  good  in  radio, 
I'll  never  forget  the  shut-ins,  the  sick 
people  to  whom' the  radio  is  the  whole 
outside  world.  I've  been  a  shut-in  so 
long  myself  that  I'll  do  everything  pos- 
sible to  make  their  lives  happier  and 
fuller." 

I  hope  Bernard  gets  that  chance. 
Don't  you? 


Do  Dreams  Come  True? 

m  Mli!Sm  Find  out  how  you  can 
get  your  fondest  wish.  Fabulous  gifts 
awarded  daily. 

*,srav  to  HEART'S  DESIRE 

Daytime — Monday  through  Friday 
on  the  Mutual  Network 


Ben   Alexander,    granter  of 
heart's  desires. 


DRAMA 


HUMOR 


LOVE 


Do  you   want  your  dream  to  come  true?   Read   the   HEART'S   DESIRE  feature   in  this  month's 

TRUE    ROMANCE   Magazine 


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Step  up  and  ask  your  questions — we'll   try  to  find   the  answers 


FOR  YOUR  INFORMATION— if  there's 
something  you  want  to  know  about 
radio,  write  to  Information  Booth, 
Radio  Mirror,  205  E.  42nd  St.,  New  York. 
We'll  answer  if  we  can  either  in  Infor- 
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tach this  box  to  your  letter. 


IS  THIS  BETTER? 

Dear  Editor: 

In  my  opinion, 
Kay  Armen  of  Stop 
The  Music  is  the 
best  singer  I've  ever 
heard.  That  picture 
in  a  recent  issue  of 
Radio  Mirror  didn't 
do  her  justice — it 
was  terrible.  Haven't 
you  got  a  better 
one? 

Miss  M.  S. 
Akron,  Ohio 


Kay    Arnien 


Well,  we  have  another  one. 

AFFILIATES 

Dear  Editor: 

Would  you  please  tell  m..  the  number  of 
affiliates  each  network  has? 

Mr.  J.  K. 
Ponca  City,  Okla. 

According  to  the  latest  listings,  the  Mu- 
tual Broadcasting  System  has  the  most 
affiliates,  with  515  which  includes  those 
operating  in  Hawaii  and  Alaska.  The  Amer- 
ican Broadcasting  Company  is  next  with 
approximately  245.  Columbia  Broadcasting 
System  has  178,  and  the  National  Broadcast- 
ing Company  has  170. 

ROGER  OF  DR.  MALONE 

Dear  Editor: 

Can  you  tell  me 
who  plays  Roger 
Dineen  in  Young  Dr. 
Malone?  I  think  he 
is  one  of  the  finest 
actors  on  the  air. 
Also,  what  ever 
happened  to  Marion 
Mann,  formerly  of 
the  Breakfast  Club. 
She  had  a  lovely 
voice,  and  I  miss  her. 

Mrs.  M.  S.  G. 
Madison,  Conn. 


Barry   Thompson 


98 


The  actor  who  plays  Roger  Dineen  is 
Barry  Thompson,  graduate  of  the  London 
Academy  of  Arts.  Marion  Mann  is  no 
longer  active  in  radio.  She  left  the  Break 
fast  Club  in  1946  to  devote  more  time  to 
her  husband  and  family. 

OFF  THE  AIR 

Dear  Editor: 

I  have  lost  track  ol  one  ol  my  lavorite 
programs,  Rose  of  My  Dreams.  It  was  my 
favorite  serial.  Will  you  please  tell  me 
what  station  this  program  comes  on  now? 

Miss  V.   L. 
Nathalie,  Va. 


This  serial  went 
off  the  air  several 
months  ago  and  at 
present  there  seems 
to  be  very  little  like- 
lihood that  it  will 
return.  But  for  old 
time's  sake,  here's 
a  picture  of  pretty 
Mary  Rolfe  who 
played  the  title  role. 
Incidentally,  she's 
also    Henry's   sister.  Mary  Kolfe 

Mary,  in  The  Aldrich  Family,  heard  Thurs- 
days at  8:00  P.M.  EST,  over  NBC. 

BLAINE'S  HIS  NAME 

Dear  Editor: 

Will  you  please 
tell  me  the  name  of 
the  actor  who  played 
Ned  Brandon,  on 
Katie's  Daughter, 
now  off  the  air?  I 
believe  I  recognized 
his  voice  in  The 
FBI  in  Peace  and 
War.  If  so,  who  does 
he  portray  on  this 
program? 

Mrs.  P.  M. 
Hollis,N.  Y. 


.Martin  Blaine 


Before  Katie's  Daughter  left  the  air, 
Martin  Blaine  played  the  role  of  Ned  Bran- 
don. And,  as  you've  guessed,  he  does  play 
a  part  in  The  FBI  in  Peace  and  War — 
field  agent.  Mr.   Sheppard. 

SHE  ISN'T  NANCY 

Dear  Editor: 

I  would  like  to 
know  if  the  actress 
who  plays  Sunday 
in  Our  Gal  Sunday 
is  the  same  actress 
who  plays  Laurel  in 
Stella  Dallas  and 
Nancy  Donovan  in 
Just   Plain    Bill. 

Miss  G.  C. 
Oleme,  California 

Vivian  Smolen 

Vivian  Smolen, 
the  actress  you  have  in  mind,  does  play 
the  role  of  Sunday  and  Laurel,  but  she 
doesn't  play  Nancy  in  Just  Plain  Bill.  That 
part  is  played  by  Ruth  Russell  whose  voice 
sounds  very  much  like  Vivian's. 


WE'D   LIKE   TO    KNOW,   TOO 

Dear  Editor: 

I've  heard  Jimmy  Durante  for  a  long 
time;  not  only  when  he  teamed  up  with 
Garry  Moore  but  way  before  that.  While 
he  was  with  Garry,  he  started  something 
that  puzzled  me  greatly  more  and  more  as 
time  went  on  with  no  explanation  in  sight. 
Every  week  he  closes  his  program  with  these 
words,  "Goodnight,  Mrs.  Calabash."  My 
question  is,  who  is  this  Mrs.  Calabash? 

Miss  P.  S. 
Greenwich,  Conn. 


We  certainly  wish 
we  knew,'  as  it's 
got  our  curiosity 
aroused,  too.  We're 
convinced  that  there 
are  probably  only 
two  people  who 
know  who  "Mrs. 
Calabash"  is  —  Jim- 
my, and — er,  Mrs. 
Calabash,  herself. 


Jimmy  Durante 


CATHY   CAMERON 


Rosemary  Rice 

Yes^  she    does; 
name. 


Dear  Editor: 

Please  tell  me  if 
the  actress  who 
plays  Cathy  Cam- 
eron in  When  a  Girl 
Marries  is  the  same 
one  who  plays  Betty 
in  Adventures  of 
Archie  Andrews. 
Mr.  J.  S. 
Madill,  Okla. 

Rosemary    Rice    is    her 


Frank  Lovejoy 


A  TRIPLE   YES 

Dear  Editor: 

Would  you  please 
give  me  some  infor- 
mation about  my  fa- 
vorite radio  actor, 
Frank  Lovejoy? 
Does  he  play  Chris 
topher  Barnes  in 
Today's  Children? 
Is  he  married — and. 
if  so,  to  whom?  And. 
wasn't  he  in  a  movie 
called  "Black  Bart"? 

Miss  L.  M.  P. 
Jacksonville,   Fla. 

Yes  is  the  answer  to  all  three  questions. 
Frank  does  play  Christopher  Barnes,  and, 
what's  more,  his  wife,  Joan  Banks,  plays 
the  part  of  Carlotta  Lagorro  in  the  same 
serial,  which  incidentally,  started  its  14th 
year  on  the  air  this  year.  In  "Black  Bart," 
Frank   played   the   part  of  Lorimer. 

BLOCK   AND   WHITEMAN 


Dear  Editor: 

What  happened  to 
the  two  programs, 
Martin  Block  at  1 :30 
CST,  and  The  Paul 
Whiteman  Show  at 
2:30   CST? 

Mr.   B.   P. 
Lubbock,  Texas 

Martin   Block 

Martin  Block  is  still  on  the  air,  but  is 
no  longer  on  Mutual.  He  is  announcer 
on  NBC's  Chesterfield  Supper  Club,  and 
disc-jockey  on  Make  Believe  Ballroom  on 
WNEW.  As  for  Paul  Whiteman  he  doesn't 
have  a  regular  show,  but  is  busy  with  ABC- 
Television. 


•V^  la8l<  JU8t  °i,e  Ration  ple»*e<J 

What  do  YU  U  want  most 
when  you  travel? 


"Just  about  every  one  I've  talked  with  has  a  different 
answer  to  that  question! 

"If  your  reply  is  like  any  of  the  ones  below,  there's  a 
way  in  which  you  can  save  quite  a  lot  of  money,  and 
have  a  better  time— on  almost  any  out-of-town  trip.  And, 
if  you  have  some  other  pet  preference,  when  traveling, 
my  guess  is  that  Greyhound  will  come  nearest  meeting 
it,  too— in  SuperCoaches  built  for  travel  satisfaction! 

"The  best  way  is  to  phone,  or  call  on  your  Greyhound 
agent,  next  time  you  plan  a  trip  anywhere  in  America." 


Who,  me?  1  want 
convenience— lots 
of  schedules  ... ." 

"Then  Greyhound's 
for  you!  There  are 
many  departures 
daily,  timed  at  most 
convenient  hours- 
prompt  arrivals,  too. 


n  I  like  to  see  things, 
meet  people,  have 
a  good  time  .  .  . 

It's  truly  more  fun 
traveling  Greyhound 
— you  meet  such  congen- 
ial people,  see  Amer- 
ica's beauty  spots 
close-up,  by  highway. 


"Everything's  so 
high  —  I  want  to 
save  money!" 

Lady,  you'll  save  mon- 
ey on  every  Greyhound 
trip!  Fares  are  lower 
than  any  other  trans- 
portation —  less  than 
driving  your  own  car. 


'I'm  a  salesman  — 
gotta  make  all  the 
little  towns!" 

Well  sir,  Greyhound's 
going  your  way  .'Serves 
■  all  the  big  cities — and 
stops  at  thousands  of 
small  towns  and  com- 
munities in  between. 


"I  want  to  get  home 
from  school  on 
week-ends." 

Then  go  Greyhound. 
Serves  hundreds  of 
schools  and  colleges— 
in  many  cases  stops 
right  at  campus  gates. 


"I'm  'way  past  50 
—  give  me  com- 
fort,   relaxation." 

There's  real  riding 
ease  in  deeply-cush- 
ioned chairs  that  re- 
cline to  any  desired 
angle.  Drivers  are 
careful  and  courteous. 


G  R  E YHOUND 


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